𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 | 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐨 [HEAVY EDITING]

𝟏 | 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞

"Taijutsu is the basic form of techniques and refers to any techniques involving the martial arts of the optimization of natural human abilities. Taijutsu is executed by directly accessing the user's physical and mental energies, relying on the stamina and strength gained through training."

Deep breaths. I close my eyes, and take in my surroundings with just the senses of touch, smell and sound. Deep breaths.

It's cold. Well, of course it's cold. It's the middle of the winter season, one of the worst I've seen since I can remember, and we're at the top of a mountain. It is snowing awfully hard, though. It's been like this for about a month, non-stop. But I don't mind. I mean, I have lived here my whole life. I just wish that Makara-sensei might consider moving somewhere that's just a little warmer.

I exhale. Crouching down on my gloved hand and my padded knees, I hold the snow, squeezing it until it is forced to form around my fingers. I stare back at the cabin where I live. The snow is leveled neatly against the edge of the wooden porch. It is six feet off the ground, which worries me. At this rate, if the storm doesn't stop, our cabin will be buried.

The roar of the wind starts growing louder. I sigh. I really do hate this place. The Hidden Snow Village is the secret village of the Land of Snow. The storms here never stop, and since we live higher up in the mountains, the weather is more problematic than it is down below in the village. Or, so I've heard. I've never been.

I've always wondered why we live in seclusion. Why can't we live with all the others? I've never left the mountains, because Makara-sensei says it isn't safe. It is rather lonely here, and all I ever do is train with her. Makara-sensei is an old woman, who became my guardian after my parents' passing. I don't know how they died. She won't tell me. Although, I'm not sure that I want to know.

I push myself up and let the snow-turned-slush-turned-liquid in my hand slide off my fingertips.

"Are you prepared?" Makara-sensei asks. I brush my snow covered bangs from my face and nod. I take a stance and place my hand out in front of me, my palm toward her. She takes her own stance, with her fist clenched and leveled at my face. There is no one else I know that I can compare her to. But if I did, then I'd say that she's the best at what she does. I had been six years old when she made the decision to train me. And since then, I haven't had a break.

"Yes, I'm ready."

"Then, begin!"

She runs at me, taking no time at all to attack. Despite her frail and wrinkled figure, she really packs more of a punch than someone might expect. Jumping a foot off the ground, she brings her leg up and aims carefully at my stomach. I'm able to block it just in time with my knee, though it knocks me off-balance a little, my heels dragging through the snow, and the impact has my right hip aching. Her next attack comes just as fast, and I barely have enough time to react. I cross my arms in front of my face to deflect her fists. It makes my forearms burn; she must have added some force to that one.