Seracen stands atop one of the lower peaks of the mountain, breathing the thinner air easily enough. He'd been training there since the Chuunin Exams, so his acclimation to the mountains should come as no surprise. Of course, the thin oxygen would cause others to become winded quickly, and so the attempt to climb the mountains would pose as something like a pre-test, to see who has the intestinal fortitude to get themselves up to the difficult position. The special jounin gazes out across the expansive landscape with the village of Shippuugakure like a jewel at its center. This position was a perfect location for his special kind of training: low oxygen, fairly high heat and humidity, plenty of large rocks nearby. Seracen was sweating just standing there waiting! He knew the genin would complain about these hardships; they complain about everything. The thought of the students makes him groan inwardly and ruins any good mood he might have had.

Seracen's long white and blue jacket sways in a light breeze blowing down the side of the mountain, and his short black hair is ruffled as though by an old friend. He thinks of his old teammates, but only for a moment. He doesn't have the ANBU mask attached to his waistband today; Seracen had opted against annoying questions about his past. He seems galvanized into action suddenly, moving towards one of the strong, living trees nearby and roughly twisting at one of the straight branches until he breaks it off, and he diligently begins breaking off shoots and leaves until he has a simple sword-like stick of living wood; it would be a painful, but mostly harmless method of instilling discipline.

He looks up at the sky, specifically at the sun. He judges it's position and figures the time to be nearing three in the afternoon, the hottest part of the day. A quick second check shows him that it is almost exactly three. Seracen sighs to himself. His notice on the board had specified that low ninja be at this particular peak at three, but a good ninja always arrives ten minutes prior to the appointed time. It seems that punctuality would be his first lecture for this group.

Yitian looked back up, his hair sticking to his face because of the sweat, first he lost track of time at the graveyard, now he had to climb, with some luck he wouldn't be too late. "Perhaps the punishment isn't as bad as i think... ugh.." He told himself as he used a stick to push himself up, he had planned to use the stick in case he would need to fight, but now it just served as a walking stick to help him get up, it helped him to save just a little bit of his energy, if he hadn't taken it he would have been crawling up here instead.

After taking another deep breath he looked up again, through his hair he saw some blurred out shapes, he guessed he was nearly there and did his best to climb just a little faster, he ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face before taking a look down, there it was Shipuugakure, it was a nice view, it made his mood brighten up a little after the climbing.
As he turned his face towards where he saw the shape before he saw what he suspected to be the sensei he was to meet here, so he walked closer, bowing his head a little."Sorry for being late..." He said, hoping that he would be asked why he was late, he slowed his breathing to calm from the climbing, he straightened his back as he waited for a response.

He took a short moment to observe his surroundings, he was still holding the stick in his right hand, though didn't lean on it anymore, trying to hide how tired he is from the climb even a little, he knew that after being late he couldn't afford to make mistakes, he wanted to make as good an impression as he could, it was also when he noticed he was the only other person here so far, it was a bit strange, did the others doze off? was he alone? It made him wonder if it was a good or a bad thing that he was the only one here.

(WC: 353 / 1 Post)

Seracen watches the genin sweating heavily as he makes the long climb up the mountainside. Even from the far distance, it is clear to the Special Jounin that the kid is having a rough time, sweating and leaning down on the walking stick quite weakly. While it was true that he had expected some difficulty for the genin, it was clear from the stern expression on his face that he had expected more.

"You're damn right you're sorry! A real sorry kid, that's what I see! And I'll bet you've got some excuse, huh?" Without waiting for a reply, the faster Special Jounin whips the branch towards the genin's walking stick. Because there is hardly any weight on the stick, it would be more likely to fly backwards if the strike lands true. Whether or not the blow even connects as intended, Seracen follows up immediately with a quick move to try to grip the boy's sweaty hair, revealing the whistling swing of the branch as a feint and a diversion.

"I don't give two shits about excuses. All I want are results! Remember this: if you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, you're FUCKED!" This last word is punctuated by a light tug on the long hair if he had actually managed to grip it, or just the Special Jounin pointing to the ground if he had not managed to do so. "Push ups! NOW! Go until you've pushed the mountain back down!"

Seracen waits to see how the boy reacts to this intense introduction, which is likely to determine every interaction from this point forward.

(OOC: Just going to keep this going as a two-person until someone else shows, in the interest of maintaining activity.)

There it was, the shouting, Yitian kept the same neutral expression as he continued to listen to it, though just when he thought he could say something he saw a stick, it was swinging for his own, instead of trying to stop it however he let go of his own stick, allowing it to fly back, though he never saw the grab for his hair comming, not fast enough to evade he just stood still, his face showed a little sign of surprise before it went back to its neutral self.

Yitian listen again, his hair getting a tug when he is told to do push-ups, Yitian then opens his mouth"Before i do that.. Could i please properly introduce myself?" He asked, hoping it wouldn't spark even more anger, he just wanted a moment of calmness after all the climbing and the man shouting, that way he could at least center himself a bit which would help him focus on whatever he had to do, it was also just a bit to try and see more of how he would react against this, he was always a bit interested in those kind of things, looking at peoples reactions to try and figure out something about them, one time he could even guess something about the past of an old man, he hoped that this skill would help him figure out how to act against different people and know how to help them with it, it would help him solve problems and other difficult things.

He looked at the mans face, observing every movement and the look in his eyes, there had to be something he could figure out, be it the things that annoy him or something that would help get his mood towards the better side. If he could find something he could use it as well, though he would still try to at least lower the amount of yelling and stop his ears from hurting, sometimes he wondered why one would shout from this close a distance, he would have understood if he had just said it to him, but there was no time to think about that now, he had to prepare for either more shouting or for a chance to introduce himself properly, if he was allowed to introduce himself he could at least change the mood a little bit, if not he wouldn't try to go against it either, it was all about learning to know whom he would be training with.

During the shouting, Seracen's eyes had maintained a calm neutrality, at odds with the aggressive and loud actions and words. Seracen was not truly angry; his eyes, in fact, showed some amusement. He was "instructor-mad", not personally angry. When the boy asks to introduce himself instead of doing the prescribed push ups, however, there is just a quick flash of dangerous anger, which is stifled again immediately. The special jounin is clearly only angry professionally, not personally. Even so, his next words, almost a whisper, are dangerously icy, a layer of powerful threat just below the surface.

"Are you disobeying a direct order from your superior?" Again, allowing little chance for a reply, Seracen answers his own question. "You sure don't look like you're doing push ups." After some careful consideration, he sees that the boy is attempting to read his face, and he relents. A little.

"Fine. But you may only speak while you're going down or up. So introduce yourself, and if I care, I might remember your name." The icyness is gone from his voice, speaking to the boy like a normal person for the first time today. The special jounin even releases the boy's hair, though he wipes his hand clean on the shoulder of the boy's robe as though disgusted. Even so, he never loses the look of professionalism; it's as though he thinks that his job requires some aggression when dealing with genin.

Yitian stayed silent, the words of the man first brought a slight chill up his spine, though as he suddenly heared the word "fine." he nearly asked "really?" Stopping himself just before he did so, he nodded as he got down onto the ground. As he started to do push-ups he spoke "My name... Is Uchiha... Yitian." making a small pause in his speaking once he was up, then down. He continued with his push-ups.

That is when he stopped speaking and continued with the push-ups. He felt like he was slowly being stripped of air, yet he instead slowed down his breathing and tried to just take deeper breaths, it seemed to help a little, he could feel his heart pound in his chest, slowing down with his breathing, he kept his face forwards, his expression seeming a bit absent, everytime Yitian trained he was usually alone, so instead of paying attention to everything around him he seemed to be somewhere else, he could feel the heat, starting to sweat more, at this rate he would still be able to do at least half the push-ups he would be able to do normally, yet he would of course always try to do more.

In his mind Yitian was in an empty space, a space with no sound, a space in which he levitated and was able to center himself quite well. Though never completely able to center himself it took more then shouting to get him out of this sort of "Trance" he blocked out sounds, the feeling of the air and the ground, yet he couldn't stop the building heat, after about 30 more push-ups he started to run out of air, his push-ups slowed down, for a short moment he stared down the mountain as far as he could, not to enjoy the sight, but to try and see anyone else that would be climbing upwards, still unsure if it was good or bad that he was alone, not wanting to know the horror of anyone else that would show up even later then him.

Yitian ran a few things through his mind as he continued with a last few push-ups, he had only been to this mountain once and not even this far up, it made him think about changing it to his regular training spot, with it being harder to train here he would be able to get even better, it was then that he couldn't push himself back up, well more like half-way before dropping onto his chest, breathing loudly.

Seracen watches the boy do the push ups silently, and he sees the blank stare; the genin had gone deeper into himself, ignoring the world around him by closing it out. There is a flash of recognition in Seracen's eyes at the name of Uchiha, but he stifles that, too, returning to blank neutrality. When the boy collapses, the special jounin yanks him up by the back of the collar, pulling him to his feet with sheer strength.

"Pitiful! And you claim to be an Uchiha? Your hair is too long and you've had too many fatty-cakes to do push ups!" The voice is gruff, but not really angry. Mostly, he sounds disappointed. Seracen suddenly points down the mountain towards where the makeshift walking stick had gone. "Go grab your weapon, boy. Never let it just go like that, or you'll be dead before you can even react. We'll get you a haircut later." The mischief in the older man's eyes should make it clear that the genin is not going to like where this is going.

The special jounin sits down in what looks like a very relaxed position, leaning back on one elbow with his other arm resting on a raised knee, the other leg laying on the ground. "When you get back, we'll start on the basics. I doubt the Academy or your soft parents taught you anything useful. Fucking genin."

Yitian looked up at some of his hair, he had indeed not cut it in a while, so he wouldn't have too much trouble cutting it, he nodded as he was told to go get his stick, though he stopped as he heared the last line. "My father can't really teach me from his grave." He said with a cold tone to his voice, then he continued towards the stick, the line had sparked some anger within him, if it hadn't been for his mother Yitian would be trying to avenge his father, though she told him to instead live the life his father was never able to, though he was sure that if he could find the men that killed his father he wouldn't be as good at controling himself.

Further down the mountain Yitian grabbed his stick from the ground, this was the stick he had used for training for quite a while now, he would need to get a real sword some day, a sword which he would use to strike down foes and to protect others, for now he would have to act as if this stick was that weapon, he streched out his arm, pointing the stick forwards."This stick should be like a part of my own body.." It was one of the last lessons his father had thought him, the weapon should be like a part of ones body.

Yitian then started to go back up the mountain, which seemed just a little easier as his lungs slowly got used to the air, once he reached the top he walked back to where he stood earlier."I brought the stick." He said, holding the stick in his right hand. He then waited for what was going to be told next, the "Basics". So far he had been teaching himself how to fight with it, not really knowing anything about any sword style he was quite sloppy, but he wasn't completely useless either, not using a style also had a good side, it was random, which made it harder to see a move comming. He was sure that if his father was alive he would have at least known which styles there were, but for now he had to hope he could do well enough without that knowledge.

Seracen has no reply in response to the knowledge that the boy's father was dead. It was not that he didn't care; the statement didn't require a response, and the taunting would wait until later. Instead, the special jounin turns to start doing push ups, his body moving with surprising speed and his breathing controlled. It is quite clear that the older man is not only used to the thin air, he also has an endurance that doesn't seem to quit.

He watches the boy even as he continues his push ups, seeing a silly little movement of pointing the stick straight forwards, as though pointing something out. It was the kind of thing seen in movies or television; it was not something used when actually fighting.

The special jounin was still doing his push ups when the boy returns, and he brings himself back up to his feet and glares at the genin that had just spoken so flippantly. "You have your weapon. Let me catch you calling it a stick again and you'll beg for push ups." Seracen's brow is dry; it almost seems that he hadn't even done anything.

Seracen lifts his own stick and points it at the genin. "Don't do this. Ever. You make yourself a bigger target, and you risk a disarm." The special jounin brings his impromptu sword back down. "For now... hold your weapon out in front of you, like this." He extends both hands forwards with the stick held in his open palms. Seracen knows that although the act of keeping it held out at a perfectly parallel level would not be easy, especially after push ups. The boy would likely be straining after a few minutes.

Yitian still observed the man, noting that the push-ups were like nothing to him, it was interesting and made him want to improve himself even more, so that he one day would be able to do the same, he knew that it would take great efford and that it would mean constant training, yet there was a fire burning in his eyes, he felt slightly re-energised by the thought of one day being able to do even more then that.

Yitian nodded as he got told not to call it a stick, it was a weapon, it felt a bit like he was preforming an act, usually too busy focusing on what was real he knew that he would need to pay attention or else he would just call it a stick again. As he looked closely when he got showed how to hold it he mimicked it quite well, also quickly working out some of the slopiness himself before he could be corrected."Like this?" He asked just to be sure, he would rather be corrected after asking then waiting to be corrected.

He kept a close eye on how he held the weapon, his expression showed he was being serious about it, a small sign of deremination, he wanted to become better, both for his father and for himself, he loved swords and that is why this was one of the things he wanted to know about, it was one of the things that also held him distant from some others from the academy, he found them childish, not looking serious enough to try, the few that didn't seem childish were self-obsessed, which he himself was as well, though he knew that, he would admit it when asked, the only other thing that kept him appart from others was his unwillingness to attach himself to others, for if they get harmed he would fear he'd blame himself and become weaker because of it.

While he never talked about it much, there was a small sign of loneliness, while nearly too small to see it was there, hidden behind the fire currently burning in his eyes, he was afraid of failing others, of being too weak to protect them, he was afraid of making them suffer because he couldn't do something, it is why he needed to get stronger, to become the strongest, not for himself, but for everyone, as long as he was weak, he would try to avoid bonding, making friends and falling in love, at this moment it would only become a weakness, something he didn't want.

Seracen sees the determination in the young boy's eyes, but his own face registers no surprise. He'd seen the same fiery stare many times, but the flame tends to be extinguished by the second week. The special jounin ensures that the genin's arms are perfectly straight out in front of him with the stick laying across the palms. Then he simply waits for exhaustion to set in.

As he waits, he says nothing to his student, practically as though he doesn't even exist. It would serve as a method of ensuring that the boy understands his place as a genin. Of course, it was unlikely that the genin would consciously understand this lesson, but the idea of his unimportance would be buried in his head somewhere. He might even become more humble due to this training, with the added bonus of greater strength.

Seracen actually waits until he sees the arms shaking before he says anything. "All right, now we can begin some sword exercises." He spins his own branch in his fingers for a moment before gripping it by its thicker end and bringing it to the side of his right leg. "Come at me, if you think you have any chance of being trained by me." Of course, this little "test" was entirely unfair. The boy's arms and shoulders would be quite tired at this point, and Seracen had been resting up. But any fight was hardly fair, and the opponent would never care for fairness. And so Seracen relaxes his entire body to a degree that even his eyelids drooped slightly, as though the man were on the verge of falling asleep. Beneath his exterior, however, his body was readying itself for a fight, his muscles supple and ready to react reflexively.

"Be warned. Nobody has ever defeated me in close combat. Not even my own sensei, a man who managed to achieve a Mangekyou Sharingan." It was really more of a subtle half-truth than an outright lie. It was generally not with just his sword that he fought with; ninjutsu was his primary method.

Yitian stood there, waiting, completely silent after his last question, though no longer waiting for an awnser, very slowly he would feel the exhaustion and after some more time his arms shaked. That is when he heared the words "come at me." While happy about the fact he got to move instead of just standing there he knew there was about zero chance of him landing a single hit, so instead of trying to get a hit in, he would need to try something else, perhaps he could try to surprise him or just hope that his exhaustion won't get the better of him, for now he would try to go for a simple strike, perhaps he could come up with something as he made a few swings, though there wouldn't be much power behind any of them, after all, he already started to have a hard time keeping it up, so he would need to do something as fast as possible.

He lifted the weapon above his head, his arms shaking just from the movement, then he swung it down, aiming for the head, just a simple swing for the head to spark a reaction, be it dodging, blocking or even a counter against it, he would need to react as fast as possible to either of them, it made him wonder about how fast he himself would be taken out if this was an actual fight, perhaps if he actually thought of it as a real battle instead of training he would be able to react better, though that would mean he could also just get himself a beating, it was worth a try, a mental switch that he turned on, he had to try, only then would he know how far he would come, it might not be the smartest thing, but rather try and fail then not try at all.

He didn't seem to react that much as he heared "Mangekyou Sharingan." it was more as if he didn't care about it, he himself didn't have the sharingan and he was conviced he wouldn't need it either, he wanted to prove himself to be strong enough without ever obtaining it. It was because he never wanted to go after those that killed his father, he never used his anger to train and never sought vengance, it was to train as if his father was still alive, in memory of him he would do his best, yet it also sparked something else, he never saw his fathers sharingan, it made him wonder a little about if his father had actually managed to obtain it, though he quickly cleared his mind of thoughts as he focused on what was in front of him.

He watches the boy raise the stick above his head, making the next attack far too obvious. He reacts quickly as soon as it begins moving down; shifting his body away from the blow, he lifts his own stick at a diagonal in a way that would redirect the attack away from its intended target and barely miss his unprotected fingers. But his fist is already moving again on reflex, closing the distance between the two ninja rapidly so that the special jounin's fist is rushing towards the genin's face, threatening a painful punch with his sword hand.

But Seracen pulls his punch, not making a connection to the boy's face, though he would feel the wind brush at his nose like a real physical force. The teacher pushes back against the ground, regaining his original distance. "Hmph! You won't win like that. Why should I train someone that can't even stop a punch in a sword fight?" Seracen hoped that his words would galvanize the genin. Some would have given up before even trying, prompting immediate verbal reprisal. Now he almost wanted to see how far he could push the boy.

Yitian missed, though it wasn't a surprise, though as the fist traveled towards his face he didn't stand still, even when he saw the fist stop he decided to not listen to what was said, his mind had switched into battle mode, plus that he knew that whatever was said would just be negative. Close to the end of the sentance Yitian stepped towards him, bringing the stick up diagonally from the ground, putting more power into this swing then the last, the only thing going through his mind was that he wouldn't be able to speak in a real fight anyway, so instead of reacting through talk, he decided to do it through action, though he did say something. "How about you talk after i can't continue any longer."

He had little hope for this strike hitting, though he had a plan for the next one, something he had only tried against a large boulder, though it could be more of a surprise, yet he would need to find the right moment to use it, for now he had to keep things moving, observing as much as he can. His hair hung half in front of his face, though he was working more on his feeling then his sight with this strike, he would need to get his hair to stop moving in front of his face, but he would worry about that later, for now he had to focus again on any small movements that might show a counter to his second strike, to be sure he would this time be more able to evade it then with that punch, he had to make sure he would show that he was capable of doging a punch like that or a kick, anything that was thrown at him.

Around the end of the swing he couldn't see anything through his hair, simply closing his eyes for a short moment, hoping that it would highten his other senses, or at least help him focus more on the rest, a sound maybe the air, anything that would help him when he wouldn't be able to see.