"The sign of intelligence is that you are constantly wondering. Idiots are always dead sure about every damn thing they are doing in their life." - Vasudev

::

I sighed.

Staring down my hands I frowned. It was once smooth, soft. Now all that was left were calloused, tired hands. Covered in cuts with skin peeling off and blisters healing over. I had wrappings tied tight to minimise injury.

I sighed. When did it become such a struggle?

I can remember when I was young — younger than I am. Life was simple. Father wasn't as bad. He still wasn't the father of the year, but he was better. He didn't broad, he didn't turn silent every time I entered the room. He din't gaze at me with such disappointment.

When mother was ok. Yet she wasn't — she'd never been. It was true what they said; ignorance truly is bliss. When I was young, younger than I am. Life was simple and mother was ok.

At seven years old, life was not simple. It was hard. It was challenging, so much so that I sometimes wondered why I even bothered. To be a shinobi? To prove them all wrong? What was the point... I couldn't change their opinions of me. Ever.

Maybe it would have been better for me to be born into a civilian family. A life without these pressures. Where I could be a normal child and play and not have to worry about meeting my father's expectations.

I was grateful, sometimes, as one of the perks that came with being seven was that second to none, stubborn determination that came with it.

Yeah, it was hard. Yeah, it was challenging. No, it never was simple — but then wheres the fun in that?

::

"Again!" 

I gasped, sharp, heavy. My eyes sharpening as I dodged my father's strikes. They were fast, powerful. He showed no mercy. 

I took to the ground, rolling to the left of me in a haste to escape. Narrowly missing my father's chakra infused foot as it slammed down beside me, shattering the dojo floor in which I once stood.

'He's serious!'

Like any other clan. The Takahashi had a unique fighting style. Theirs relied on the sleek, elegant look — preforming swift, agile movements.

Speed was a Takahashi's best friend. They used to say.

A true Takahashi never uses their fists. They danced their away around their opponents. Flipping and twisting, using their agility and speed to catch their enemies by surprise with a chakra powered kick.

Bones would shatter.

I leapt up. Twisting my body through the air, I dodged another merciless attack. His foot never hit, but the heel of his boot brushed against my chest — and so did the radiating blue chakra. 

Like it were made up of a thousand blades, the chakra ripped my shirts to shreds. Exposing my tanned chest, the chakra burnt through my skin.

"Argh!" I seethed, collapsing on the ground.

I grabbed my chest, breathing in and out deeply. Bracing myself through the pain I squeezed my eyes shut. I looked down — my skin had been badly burn. Not scarring worthy, which was difficult with medical ninjutsu around, but it still hurt. 

I was a shinobi in training, injuries were bound to happen. But for a seven year old it killed.

"You deserve this."

I could practically feel my blood freeze.

"You cannot even avoid a measly attack." I could hear the disgust in his voice. "You disgrace me... Ichirou."

I never liked my father.

He was cruel, overbearing and arrogant. He was selfish and heartless and he was never there for me. But it hurt — it hurt a lot.

To hear him say those words... it felt worse than the burns on my chest.

"Y—Yes... father." I heaved, looking down as I heard the sounds of his footsteps as he left.

My eyes glossed over with unshed tears as I grit my teeth.

'A disgrace? Hah... how fitting'

::

Mother was silent.

She sat straight, face black, listening as I retold her the events that took place in the dojo. She took her hands from my chest as the green glow of medical ninjutsu left her palms.

I told her not to heal me — she couldn't waste any chakra. But she insisted and I wasn't in any mood to argue.

Once I was done she was still silent. And when I looked up I frowned at what I saw. She lifted her hands to cup her mouth, tears gathering in her sad maroon eyes as she sobbed.

My heart ached.

"It's ok mother..." I frowned. "... i'm used to it." 

I took her hands in mine and offered her the best smile I could muster — it wasn't much.

My words did nothing but bring a frown to her face.

"But you shouldn't be... Ichirou. You're my baby... my only child... why must you be used to it?"

I sighed. "Fate."

Mother reached out, wrapping her arms around me as she pulled me close, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

"I've always hated fate."

::

"Alright listen up brats!"

Everyone looked up as Azashi spoke. His usual stern expression on his scarred face.

"Today we'll be outside! I'll be seeing what level you brats are at!"

Kitsuchi practically leapt from his seat. "YES! Finally!"

After months of theory we were all looking forward to beginning some practical work.

I stood up from my chair, wearing a lazy smirk as I followed behind my classmates. Sachiko had already sprinted after Kitsuchi and off to the Academy training grounds with Azashi leading the way.

Han simply trotted after us at a much leisure pace.

::

"Listen up!" Azashi snapped, leaning his weight onto his cane. "Today it'll be a simple spar. Winners battle winners. Got it?!"

We nodded and so did he.

"First off! Han and Sachiko!"

Sachiko grinned brightly as she ran into the ring. She shifted into the standard academy stance just as Han walked over. He didn't look nearly as confident as she did. It wasn't that the Uzumaki was arrogant, but rather believed taijutsu was her strong suit and she could take on Han.

She couldn't be more wrong.

"And go!"

Sachiko ran forward. She lifted her leg up to kick Han but he caught it with ease, throwing her back. She went flying back, catching herself in a sloppy back-hand spring before charing again.

Preforming a faint, she jumped behind him, readying what she believed to be a knockout punch. Han then moved so fast that I couldn't follow, but of course sensei could. He caught her fist and pulled her forward. Then he let go, spinning his body round to build of speed before smashing his foot into her chest.

She went soaring out the ring, kicking up dirt on the way out. And so the timid jinchuuriki had completely destroyed the boisterous Uzumaki.

Sachiko landed with a whine. Wincing as she rubbed her back, she frowned, dusting off her kimono. Han must have instantly regretted his actions because it showed clear in his eyes as he rushed forward, offering her a hand up.

"I'm so sorry!" He fretted. "I didn't mean to be so harsh! I'm-"

Sachiko cut him off with a wave and a big smile. "Nah it's cool," She told him. "But that kick? You were amazing! Great job, Han-kun!"

Han went a little pink from shock as compliment weren't a usual thing for him. A few anxious bows later and he had helped up the redhead, still burning bright from embarrassment.

Sachiko was a little confused but smiled none the less. Then, standing outside the ring, we all turned out attention as Azashi announced.

"Ichirou! Second-rate Kamizuru brat! You guys are up!"

Kitsuchi scowled at the name before taking his place before me. He smirked, cockily, and I wanted nothing more to wipe it off his face.

It reminded me so much of my father that it made my blood boil. He thought, no knew, he'd won this. And damn was I gonna fix that.

We fell into our clans' stance.

"Go!"

Usually, if this were any other fight, I would wait. Stand back and evaluate situations and possible outcomes and let my opponent strike first. But I was pissed. I knew I would hate Kitsuchi the moment I heard his family name but this was another level.

So I attacked first, charging. And apparently we had similar thoughts as he ran at me too.

He launched a punch, intent on hitting my jaw before I ducked under it. Shifting my feet slightly I flipped, three-sixty style, building up speed before kicking him straight in the chest. 

I was no where near my clan's standard as my speed was average and my strength was lacking. I knew he could see my attack coming but even a mediocre Takahashi was still faster than an average person.

So even though Kitsuchi could see it that didn't mean he could dodge in time. 

His arms crossed against his face and he took my kick head on. I felt sick satisfaction on the way he grit his teeth, trying to hold his ground before failing and skidding back. But he kept his feet planted and managed to stay in the ring.

I didn't waste a second of it and ran forward. Kitsuchi was cooking up a plan and we both knew it. I went to kick in his head but he ducked, gliding his feet along the ground and kicking up dirt.

Before I knew it he had created a smoke screen.

I quickly cupped my mouth. Making sure to inhale the dust. However I couldn't help the cough that bubbled up and as I leapt back into fresh — there he was.

Kitsuchi packed every bit of strength he had into his swing. Powerless to stop it, I felt the fist collide with my jaw and was sent skidding back. Digging my fingers into the dirt, I tried desperately to slow myself down.

Fingers bleeding and clearly annoyed, I managed to stop just before I crossed the threshold. I gently touched the irritated skin on my jawline and frowned. It was definitely going to bruise. Eyes hard I glared at the smirking boy before me.

'What I wouldn't give to wipe that smug look of his face...'

I felt a spark of anger as I ran forward. I ducked under a punch and swung myself round to deliver a kick. But the blow earlier sent me smashing into the ground and the know growing lump on my head made me slightly out of it. 

My kick was sloppy even by my standards. It barely grazed Kitsuchi's cheek as his smirk widened. He drew back his fist and then everything went black.

::

"You're too reckless Ichirou!"

Mother fussed as she applied the bandage to my jaw. I was correct in assuming it would bruise. When hearing of it my father forbid my mother from using medical ninjutsu to heal it. It was supposed to be a lesson of some sorts.

With a snide comment under a breath and a glare she complied — she had to. Whatever the clan Head wished, he got.

"I don't now what Azashi-san was thinking! That Kamizuru child is a maniac! Hurting my poor Ichirou-kun..." Finished with my jaw, she checked me over for other injuries.

"Mother! I'm fine!" I reassured her. "But you should me in bed! Please lay down."

She argued for a while but soon laid back. Her body no doubt relieved.

Mother was always such a passionate person. Overtime it was lost in the 'perfect wife' she was forced to act but it never left. Every time I was hurt it came charging out, flames and all.

And so with that final — literal — knock out punch, Kitsuchi won. Much to my distaste. Only to lose to Han in the final match. Much to my joy.

After everything I realised something important. My taijutsu needs a lot of work and I cannot rely on my clan's teachings anymore. I have to learn my own style. One that fits me not them.

'And... I officially do not like Kamizuru Kitsuchi'

::

For those who didn't know — Kitsuchi is Kurotsuchi's father.

Kurotsuchi is the fourth Tsuchikage and Onoki's granddaughter (she was first seen in the Kage Summit act back in Shippuden)

Kitsuchi and Ichirou's relationship will be similar to Naruto and Sasuke's. But only in the rivalry aspect as neither are like the Uzumaki or Uchiha (maybe only sharing a few qualities). However they will be much closer than Naruto and Sasuke, and not as hostile.