Sonata

Chapter ten: Zetsu

"You have done well learning how to control that aura of yours. Keeping it close. Not wasting it, like you were before. You learn fast, kid. Faster than most. You dont say much and you dont show much, but those wheels are constantly turning, arent they? Soaking up every word. Taking in every sight. Cataloging every sound. Every feeling"...

The old master paused to take a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving his young student, reading everything he possibly could as he spoke. The boy could have only been thirteen years old at best, but he was the most difficult person to read that the elder had ever met. A blank slate that never gave anything away. At first, the old man thought that perhaps there was something wrong with him. Something wrong with his brain. Certain connections that never really met. But considering how easily the boy implemented every lesson and how quickly he was able to learn things most people would take weeks to master, his original assumptions were very quickly put to rest. If he could manage to control his aura as masterfully as he had learned to control his emotions, his words and his body language, it would not be long before the little slum rat grew into a force to be reckoned with. One that he could unleash upon the world, while he sat back and enjoyed the show.

"Now I want to see if you are able to shut it off".

A subtle squint of Feitan's sharp eyes, was the smallest indication that his mind was racing to come up with a reason why someone would work so hard to find a power, only to end up turning it off. There was a reason for everything. A motive for all. And the old master knew such was a lesson this boy had learned a long time ago.

"It helps to conceal your presence", he continued, answering all the boy's internal inquiries for him. "It can help you to evade an opponent. Move around without being detected. It helps when tracking a target. It can allow you to land a sneak attack in the heat of a battle. Zetsu. You dont have to repeat it. Just shove it away in that massive memory bank of yours. We wont waste time while you struggle with the proper pronunciation."

Feitan would not allow the slight verbal jab to get to him. The old man liked to toss around insults. He was waiting for some kind of reaction. Some kind of strike back. Feitan would never give him one. Never allow him the satisfaction.

"Keeping all that energy inside of you, leaves you vulnerable to some things. But it also makes you much more sensitive to others. While keeping your own aura inside, you will be able to perceive others with little to no effort. Its important. Though whoever was bored enough to teach it to that friend of yours, didnt do a very good job. Does he always watch you? Nothing better to do with his time?"

Internally, Feitan seethed. Phinks had promised he would go away this time. He wasnt quite sure whether the big, blonde idiot was trying to pick up on some pointers his own teacher had forgotten to show him, or if he was foolish enough to think Feitan couldnt handle himself and hung around due to some kind of misplaced worry, but his lingering presence was becoming somewhat of a nuisance. One that the old master never failed to point out.

"His teacher was soft", the elder continued, flicking away the rest of his cigarette so he could stoop to pick up a long gnarled stick. "The best lessons are the ones that are beaten into you. But you already know this, dont you boy?"

As usual, Feitan remained completely silent. Non reactionary. Even though he knew what was coming next.

"I will give you five minutes. That means I will count to sixty five times. Close off all those points of release. As many as you can. If I can still see your aura - regardless of how truly beautiful it is - I'm going to hit you. Understand?"

The boy nodded. There wasnt much about any of that needed to be understood. Feitan had no idea how to go about closing off all the nodes he had worked so hard to open, but quickly decided that doing it all in reverse was the best way to go about trying.

Much like he had those days along in his shelter, before the stupid water test, he closed his eyes and worked to wipe his mind clean of every thought besides the task at hand. Isolating the odd tingling feeling flowing through him, that he had come to enjoy like a drug, he fought to ignore it, drawing it all back in starting from the bottom and making his way up to the top. The process left his extremities feeling numb and cold. He didnt enjoy it. It made him feel open and vulnerable. An infant without his newly gifted security blanket.

His concentration was suddenly shattered, breaking into a million pieces like a window that was hit by a brick, as he felt the stick the old master had picked up, striking him in the side. He hadnt felt it coming. Hadnt been counting the seconds. He must have taken too much time. Now he would have to start all over again.

"Not good enough", the elder chastised. Even though it was made plainly obvious, by the throbbing in his right side.

Now Feitan would have to work harder to clear his mind. He had to wipe away the pain, the anger he felt at being hit while he had been in no position to evade it, the threat that another strike was imminent if he couldnt do it fast enough. He fought to push it all down, using his aura like a paper weight, drawing it inside of himself and laying it like a blanket right on top of everything else. His entire bottom half felt naked and exposed before he felt the stick again. This time it struck him in the shoulder.

He cursed aloud, but fought not to lose everything he had accomplished. In a fight he would have to learn not to let every punch and jab annihilate his concentration. In a real battle, his opponent would not allow him any time to start over. He would take the moment of weakness and use it to his advantage, striking quick and hard to end it while he had the chance.

Though the coldness of his aura-less bottom half did dissipate by a small amount, Feitan was able to grab it and hold onto it while he shoved the new pain and frustration underneath his proverbial inner weight. This time he found it easy to set his mind back to task. In a small amount of time, he had managed to close everything off below his neck. It still wasnt fast enough however. This time the stick caught him in the side of the head and as a ringing reverberated inside his skull and his hands balled into involuntary fists at his sides, he nearly lost it all.

He maintained his grip on his own energy and wasted no time in zipping the rest of it off, like one would zip up a jacket, quick and easy after a blast of winter wind. It was then a new sensation took over, much worse and much stronger than any blow that could be dealt with a stick.

Replacing the coldness that was almost enough to make Feitan shiver, was a feeling like he was being doused with thick, toxic oil. It skulked across his skin and dripped down the back of his neck. A malicious, evil oozing that threatened to leak into the nodes he had finally managed to close off. It took him a few seconds to realize that what he was feeling was the old Master's aura. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before and before he could stop himself from doing so, all his effort was released in one swift motion and his own aura flared up like a defense mechanism. As his eyes opened he found himself staring into the sand, down on his hands and knees, his chest heaving and his heart pounding.

"Good work", the elder spoke, the honey in his voice as thick as his sickening aura. He tossed away the stick and gave the boy a good prod with the toes of his sandals. "Now go on. Get out of here. Its getting dark".

Still a little dazed and with all the pain of his beatings suddenly coming back to him all at once, Feitan pulled himself to his feet. He stood in place as he watched the old man walk towards his shack without another word or so much as a glance back in his pupil's direction. The man was wicked. Powerful. He felt some kind of sick pleasure, beating a defenseless kid with a stick. A thrill had taken him over as his aura had attempted to consume Feitan's own. Feeling a sense of real fear that he had never felt before, he struggled to get himself together, his mind still racing with a plethora of questions as he trudged off in the direction where he knew Phinks had been sitting and watching. He said not a word to his friend as he stalked right past him. From his place in the dirt, Phinks scrambled to his feet. With his long legs it took him no time at all to catch up.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?!" the older boy asked, his voice a little louder than it needed to be. "If I were you I would have taken that stick and shoved it right up his old grey asshole."

"He get whats coming to him", Feitan replied, raising a hand to brush back sweat soaked strands of raven hair. "Sooner or later. Everyone does".