Jinichi left again two weeks after the double Missile Fist landed.
Another mission, no details, no estimated return.
The estate felt quieter without his heavy footsteps and his usual scowls, but training never paused.
If Tetsuya wasn't training with his father, the clan made sure he got his daily moving in.
That afternoon, after the usual group drills, Haruto kept the seven boys on the grounds. No dismissal. Just a low grunt and a gesture toward the open dirt circle.
"Free for all." he said. "Last one standing. No killing blows. Go."
The words barely left his mouth before the dynamic shifted.
Tetsuya felt it instantly. The sideways glances, the subtle circling. The six others didn't charge each other. Their eyes locked on him.
He was ahead in control, in reserves, in technique.
But six against one? Even with Missile Fist and his way bigger reserves, he was still six years old. Inexperienced. His attacks weren't devastating yet. At least not devastating enough to close the gap.
The violet fist missiles were strong, at least stronger than how strong he could punch himself, but they were short ranged, hard to pull off in the midst of battle, and the double shot had been a one time fluke born of perfect timing and birthday fueled spite.
In other words? The free for all turned into a 1v6.
He reinforced his body, cursed energy humming like a low current.
Blocked the first two strikes, ducked a wild kick, fired a single Missile Fist that clipped one boy's shoulder and sent him tumbling back to the floor with a yelp.
But the rest closed in.
A knee to his ribs. A fist to his cheek. Hands grabbing his haori, yanking him off balance. Cheap shots weren't off the table, as the guy Tetsuya knew as Yakumo really liked kicking his legs.
This wasn't a cakewalk. Zenin children were still Zenin above all. Trained just like him. Group tactics were one of the biggest lessons they learned.
After another grab attempt, he twisted free and launched another Missile Fist, its violet whip cracking through the air, hitting one of the boys right in the chest with a heavy thwomp, sending him out of commission.
But the opening cost him. Someone tackled him from behind.
He hit the dirt hard, breath knocked out.
They piled on.
Fists, elbows, and knees rained down, fueled by months of resentment over Haruto's favouritism, over Tetsuya always pulling ahead, over him being more talented, and a myriad of other reasons.
He blocked what he could, reinforced what he remembered, but numbers won. A sharp elbow to the temple blurred his vision. Another kick to the stomach folded him.
When the dust settled, he was on his back, gasping, blood trickling from a split lip, arms pinned by two of the bigger boys who kept swinging even after he stopped fighting back.
Haruto stepped in.
Massive hands clamped around the last two attackers' wrists. He yanked them up like ragdolls, eliciting a yelp, as the boys had focused completely on hitting him, feet dangling and tossed them aside like trash bags.
They landed on the stone tiles with a thud, winded but unhurt. CE reinforcement really was nice.
The instructor looked down at Tetsuya. The boy was breathing hard, chest rising and falling, small fists still clenched in the dirt.
Haruto's expression didn't change, but in his mind, a single thought echoed.
'Like father, like son, I suppose. The Hei might have a new blade after all.'
Logical, really. Six against one, and none of those kids were pushovers. Decent reserves, decent forms.
Still, the boy had lasted longer than most would have.
Jinichi returned three days later.
He didn't ask about the free for all.
Didn't ask why Tetsuya moved with a limp or why his cheek was still swollen.
He brought the boy to one of the closed off training boxes.
A smaller version of the disciplinary pit Ogi would one day use on his own daughters.
Stone walls, low ceiling, single sliding door. Sealed tight. No escape until someone opened it from the outside.
Tetsuya stepped inside. The door shut behind him with a heavy thud.
Darkness. Silence. His heart hammered.
He waited. Nervous, palms sweaty, for whatever punishment Jinichi had decided on. A beating? Hours of isolation? Something worse?
Minutes passed.
Then the door cracked open just enough.
A single flyhead curse fluttered in.
It was a tiny, buzzing thing, barely more than a hand sized bug with wings and a mouth.
It was also Tetsuya's first curse.
Tetsuya blinked, nervousness disappearing for the moment. Flyheads are supposed to be easy.
"I got this." Tetsuya mumbled as cursed energy reinforced his body. now more than ever.
The flyhead darted toward him.
Tetsuya jumped and slapped it out of the air like swatting a mosquito.
It hit the ground with a wet splat, cursed energy dissipating.
'...That's it? still. Not bad for my first curse kill. I mean, that was like a jump serve or something.
"Maybe if this sorcerer thing doesn't work out, I can pull a Hinata or something." Tetsuya mumbled, snickering. He didn't laugh for very long.
The door cracked again.
Four more flyheads buzzed inside.
Tetsuya's stomach dropped.
The pattern was obvious now.
He lost to numbers.
So Jinichi would teach him to fight numbers.
'Me and my big mouth. Great. Just jinxed yourself. Great going Dude.'
The flyheads swarmed in an erratic way, uncaring of Tetsuya's thoughts.
Despite their weakness, Flyheads were rather fast for their size.
His reinforced arms and slapped two down, jumped to crush a third underfoot, but the fourth latched onto his shoulder, tiny teeth sinking in.
It didn't hurt. Tetsuya simply grabbed the little bugger and crushed it in his fist.
The boy let out a deep, calming breath, standing in the center of the room, four tiny black smears on the stone floor, slowly crumbling to nothing.
The process was interesting to watch. He didn't have enough time to do so, though.
The door opened, and twenty Flyheads poured in.
'This is gonna take a while, right? I hope that old man doesn't make me miss dinner.' Tetsuya thought with a frown.