Morning.
Thud.
Thud thud.
The usually silent Hatake compound rang with heavy impacts.
The racket hammered the sleep out of Hatake Kakashi.
"Ahh…"
He yawned, crawled out from under the covers, dressed, and pulled open the curtains.
Gold poured into the dim room.
He shielded his eye against the glare, blinked a few times, then peered outside.
Out on the broad training ground, a slight figure in a white cloak stood at center while a green blur flickered all around her. Konome Taketori and Might Guy.
What are those two doing up at this hour?
Morning practice?
Kakashi raked a hand through his unruly hair, filled a basin, and, toothbrush in mouth, leaned against the window to watch.
Whoosh, whoosh.
Guy's silhouette flashed through the air around Konome. Feinting kicks, all of which she parried offhandedly.
A breath of wind.
The green figure condensed at Konome's back.
Twist the waist, turn the hips.
Kick.
No wasted motion. Pure, tempered taijutsu. Only the word clean fit.
The whipkick split the air into vacuum. Before the gust even arrived, the toe was already at the girl's slender neck.
Leaf Strong Whirlwind.
Three tomoe spun in Kakashi's Sharingan as he silently named the move. Guy challenged him with it so often that he knew the cadence as well as his own breath.
This was Guy's serious opener. Fast to the point that from lift to kill the window to react was no more than a sixteenth of a second. The power was such that even if you blocked, most mid level taijutsu users went limp. A true scrub detector.
How would Konome stop it?
Kakashi already had a dozen counters in mind. He watched, curious whether hers would match his.
She had hospitalized a jonin instructor before she even enrolled. He had not managed that at her age. Curiosity burned.
His curiosity, along with the last of his morning fog, got its answer.
A pale forearm, lotus-white, lifted seemingly slow, in truth razor fast, to guard the throat.
Boom.
Guy's knotted thigh smashed into the girl's soft looking arm. The meaty thunder of impact made Kakashi wince mid-brush.
He half expected to see Konome sent skidding across the yard.
Reality did not oblige. She only shivered once and bled off the force.
Then.
Twist the waist, turn the hips.
Kick.
The very same form, the very same economy, power distilled to a note.
Only one thing was different. Konome's Leaf Strong Whirlwind felt heavier.
The tomoe whirled faster. Kakashi's eye picked out the nuance. Guy's version lived up to its name, a gale, sharp and swift. Konome's felt like swinging a solid iron bar with everything you had. Take one full on and bones would go.
Same technique, utterly different flavor.
So young, and she already has a distinct taijutsu style?
Kakashi could not help the thought. At twelve he had been anointed Leaf's top prodigy. A few years later here he was, sighing over someone else's gifts.
Guy felt the same way, and harder.
Even the distant Kakashi knew better than to meet that kick head on. Face to face, Guy knew better than anyone.
When his shin had slammed her forearm, it was like striking a counterweight. Dense, unforgiving. On the outside Konome was mochi soft. Inside, she was solid iron.
One exchange told him the truth and charged a price. His right tibia ached to the marrow, his whole right side tingled from the rebound.
Now her returning Strong Whirlwind sang toward him.
The lash of leg and wind arrived together. The pressure alone made his hairs stand. Long training offered a clean verdict in his mind.
Do not get hit.
A flash of green.
Konome's vision blurred, her Byakugan failing to track his acceleration in time. Her sure-kill kick shredded a decoy afterimage.
Far off, Might Guy reappeared, body shining with a viridian life-glow. He crossed his forearms, fists clenched. The life within him seemed almost tangible, gleaming greener than Healing Palm under the sun.
"Eight Gates, third gate, the Gate of Life."
His voice carried an iron confidence.
He had a right to it. The Eight Gates had existed since the old days. No one knew the original creator. In the Might line, no one before his father had breached the fifth. As for the final array, the Eight Gates Released Formation that could explode to many times Kage level in an instant, that had been more legend than manual, and a recent legend at that.
Until Might Duy broke the last four one by one and painted the Seven Ninja Swordsmen red with steam. Only then did the Eight Gates become a name the world respected.
Now Guy had opened three gates in the blink of an eye. He had surpassed his father, his ancestors, perhaps even the technique's nameless author.
"So how do those gates actually open?"
Konome's Byakugan bloomed to its limit. Chakra pathways, vessels, muscle fibers, all of Guy was laid bare. Three bright points blazed within him like stars.
The Gate of Opening, which lifted the brain's limiter on the body and let it output a full hundred percent. The Gate of Rest, which muted exhaustion and pain so you could give yourself wholly to the fight. The Gate of Life, which whipped the body's vital force to a peak for a brief surge.
She knew the theory by heart and had a living exemplar in front of her, yet she still could not find the key to lift those three latches in herself.
She turned her sight inward.
Her own body bore the corresponding acupoints. No matter how she prodded them with chakra, they did not open.
Why?
Her body was entirely under the dominion of Byakugan control. In principle the Eight Gates should have been easy.
"Train without stopping, grind the flesh to its limit, and the gates will open on their own," Guy shouted, blood hot, as if to hand her the secret.
Konome rolled her white eyes.
That was no answer at all.
Why would that open them?
Her structure was not like other people's. Meat-puppet mastery let her cut pain off completely. She could work a muscle to shutdown without flinching.
She had already tried the first night she got the scroll.
Useless.
Hence this morning's spar.
They had started with Leaf Hard Fist. Byakugan could not copy like Sharingan, but with a monstrous body and inhuman motor control, learning a style even Guy called idiot proof had been trivial.
One morning of drills and Leaf Whirlwind, Great Whirlwind, and Strong Whirlwind were all in her pocket.
Only the Eight Gates, the thing she wanted most, refused to yield. Guy's rough method grated on someone used to finding the principle and cutting the path short.
As for body training, she hardly needed it.
Muscle grows from overcompensation after punishing loads. For her, muscle growth happened when she decided it should. Given enough chakra to fuel it, and as long as her bones could bear the stress, she could take this frame to its natural strength cap in a day.
For her, physical conditioning was the most pointless thing in the world.
"Old man, you are holding out on me."
Konome looked at Guy, voice certain.
She did not believe a technique even Might Guy could learn would be beyond her. He was hiding a step.
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