One jab between the ribs, followed by another when the boy raised his arm a moment too late to defend against the first one. He grunted in pain, a response that might have been a cry if he hadn't remembered in time that to cry out was to show weakness.<br/><br/>The boy was named Ibiki, a child of no more than nine or maybe ten years. His face showed a mixture of pain and anger, reined in by the beginnings of discipline and pride. He was Hyuga, heir to his clan, as he had so often been told: indeed, his features bore the trademark entirely white eyes that came with their possession of the Byakugan along with the pale skin and black hair that was prominent throughout the family, currently bound together into a ponytail for training.<br/><br/>The man who was so casually poking through his defenses was his father, Issun. A tall, well-muscled man dressed only in a pair of black training pants, he had the looks of a seasoned warrior with little humor or ability to compromise. A few scars crisscrossed his body, though none more prominent than the heavy burn marks along his bald scalp.<br/><br/>Both of them currently had thin veins bulging out around the outer and upper side of their matching white eyes. To them, the ghostly afterimage of chakra emissions streamed through the air: made visible by the active Byakugan.<br/><br/>His father's mastery of the Juuken, their particular soft fist combat style, made Ibiki's own attempts at attacking his internal organs little more than an annoyance, but nonetheless each attack was commented upon as he had tried again and again to deliver what would be a decisive strike if he wasn't training against a far superior master. Issun's strikes in turn usually found their intended target -- but were made to sting rather than disable.<br/><br/>Their sparring took place in the family dojo, a small training hall that was reserved for use of the clan head and thus his immediate family. It was utilitarian and lacked the pomp of their official training grounds but it afforded privacy. Two others were watching their match: two women who knelt next to the entrance. Ibiki's mother, a beautiful woman with long black hair, whose lavender colored eyes made it obvious that she had married into the clan - though she likely carried some Hyuga ancestry, considering the strict clan laws on marriage designed to preserve the Byakugan - was watching intently. Next to her knelt an attendant; a young female member of the branch house with fair features, though as usual marred by the seal on her forehead, a blemish she hid behind a silk band.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>Ibiki hissed in pain as the next strike graced his throat -- he swerved back to evade the brunt of the attack and pushed his own counter by instinct, bringing his own thrust -- middle and index finger -- to bear against the underside of his father's limb. Under ordinary circumstances Ibiki should have paralyzed the arm, but the clan head merely narrowed his eyes and pushed his own chakra against the invading force to dispel it.<br/><br/>For a moment it seemed as if Issun might strike again with the other hand, but then he opened the one he had attacked with instead, used their current position to take hold of the boy's collar and quickly flung him to the ground. Ibiki attempted to roll with the force of his fall but still found himself gasping for air after the impact.<br/><br/>"Never rely on what you expect an opponent to do," the bald jounin declared with his rough voice. "You're small. Light. Even if I use the Juuken, I can throw you with ease."<br/><br/>The larger man crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared down at his son, the veins around his eyes slowly fading. "We're done for the day. The counter just now was acceptable, but you fall into patterns too easily." Turning his back to his son, he slowly walked towards the exit as he continued to speak: "Kiko, have his training adjusted. He'll need sparring partners versed in other styles. I won't have him anywhere but at the top if I am to send him to that wretched new school."<br/><br/>The attendant, Kiko, bowed her head slightly as he passed her.<br/><br/>Just as the clan head walked out through the open door, Ibiki had managed to pull himself into a kneeling position, one hand clutching his ribs as he breathed heavily. His eyes, too, returned to their normal state as he glared after his father.<br/><br/>Ibiki knew that Issun was only doing it to make him strong; he wasn't really angry at his father, though the pain he felt all over made it all too easy to be. He was angry at himself for not living up to his expectations - he had a duty to his clan, after all. He had been told many times and already internalized the thought long ago.<br/><br/>Once he had pulled himself fully together and stood on his feet once more -- and only then -- his mother rose and rushed over to him, pulling the boy into her arms. She smelled of lilacs. Her embrace was soft. Comforting. It made Ibiki feel strange, like something was caught in his throat - the emotions that a normal child might have had were already well on their way to the practical coldness of a shinobi, he failed to understand why his eyes stung. Her voice was gentle in his ear, but he barely heard what she was saying. Something about his sister.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>Later that day, after a trip to the clan infirmary for some ointment and bandages, Ibiki was dressed again in a long white robe, looking good as new. He was expected to attend study lessons with Kiko - writing and reading, the history and geography of the nations, lore on various clans and types of shinobi and many other subjects that seemed to increase in number all the time -- in an hour and then to participate in the combat training for the younger Hyuga. Between all the extra training and special lessons he received as the heir, it was less a challenge and more a chore for Ibiki, but one he didn't mind. It was an opportunity to relax a little and associate with other children -- only those of House Hyuga, but it was something.<br/><br/>They had tried to hide it from him for a while, but he had already overheard it weeks ago: that we was to be sent to the Shinobi Academy that was being established. Ibiki was looking forward to it: though he expected that few if any of them would be able to challenge him, an attitude well nourished by his father, he was glad for it. Perhaps there his efforts would be recognized rather than constantly criticized. Perhaps he'd find someone close enough to train with, even. Things just hadn't felt quite right since he was no longer allowed to spar with his sister. They had barely seen each other and even if they did, Misaki had refused to talk to him.<br/><br/>Deep in thought, Ibiki was strolling around the wall that surrounded the Hyuga territory. He was on the outside despite having been told not to leave on his own, but this was one of the few little acts of rebellion to young Hyuga allowed himself. Considering the Byakugan of their family, the guards and even his parents probably knew about and tolerated the behavior - a small indulgence was allowed, apparently, as long as he obeyed where it mattered.