The sound of heavy breathing filled the small hut nestled deep in the wilderness of the Land of Rivers.
Miles away from the nearest settlement, the hut stood isolated, surrounded by thick trees and the quiet nature.
Inside, the gasps came from a figure hunched over, her hands on her knees, drenched in sweat as she struggled to catch her breath.
Reifū Genpū straightened slowly, her muscles burning from the intense training she had just endured. Across from her, Kūga Seiryu watched while his white hair was outlined by the sunset glare. His arms were crossed and an amused smile tugged at his lips.
He stood with a relaxed posture, as though the physical exertion of their sparring had barely affected him.
"You've improved," Kūga said, his voice calm but edged with a playful challenge, "but you're still relying too much on brute strength. Aether isn't just about power, it's about control. Precision."
Reifū shot him a glare, wiping the sweat from her brow. "You could've mentioned that before making me run laps around the entire forest," she snapped, though there was no true malice in her tone.
Over the past month, she had grown accustomed to his brutal training methods, as well as his smug demeanor.
What annoyed her most wasn't his teaching, but his infuriatingly handsome face and that stupid, knowing smile that he wore during every session. It was as if he knew exactly how to get under her skin.
Kūga chuckled, unfazed by her frustration. "If I told you everything upfront, you'd never learn to think on your feet." He leaned against the wooden frame of the hut, his blue eyes watching her with a quiet intensity. "Remember what I taught you, adapt. Always adapt."
It had been a month since their first encounter. The days had turned into weeks filled with grueling physical combat training and Aether theory.
Kūga had been relentless, pushing Reifū to her limits, but he had also shown her a side of himself that was more than just a strict mentor.
Every day after their training, they would relax together, sometimes hunting for food in the dense forests, other times camping by a fire when they were too far from the hut to return by nightfall.
Kūga made it a point not to rely on his Aether powers for everything. He wanted Reifū to grow, to learn survival through effort, not shortcuts.
He refrained from using his own abilities to do the heavy lifting, despite how easy it would've been for him. Instead, he let her struggle and find her strength, guiding her but never taking control.
There was a quiet understanding between them, a growing closeness that neither of them had expected.
Reifū often found herself caught between annoyance and admiration for Kūga.
His mocking grin would get under her skin, especially when she failed at a technique or when he corrected her with a condescending smile that seemed to say, I told you so.
Yet, despite the frustration, she respected him. His strength was undeniable, and his knowledge of Aether was something beyond her comprehension. It made her curious—curious about him, about his past.
Reifū vividly recalled their first day of training. Kūga had been ruthless, far more intense than she had expected.
He had thrown her into combat without warning, his movements fast and precise as he knocked her to the ground time and again.
Every time she stood up, he would smirk that infuriating smirk, his white hair falling into his eyes as if mocking her without words.
~Flashback~
"Too slow," he'd say as she swung at him. "Your form is sloppy," he'd add when she tried to counter his attacks. And that damned smile—it never left his face, no matter how many times she glared at him.
After hours of struggling, Reifū had finally snapped. "Do you enjoy mocking people?" she had yelled, her breath heavy, her patience worn thin.
Kūga had only laughed, that soft, knowing laugh that always made her grit her teeth. "It's not mockery," he had replied, his tone light. "It's motivation. You'll thank me later."
At that moment, Reifū had sworn that she would wipe that smile off his face one day.
.
Despite their rocky start, Kūga and Reifū grew closer as time went on.
It wasn't just the training that bonded them; it was the quiet moments in between, the times when they would sit by the fire after a long day, letting the night wrap around them like a blanket.
One evening, as the fire crackled softly and the stars shined aesthetically, Reifū found herself talking about her mother.
It had started as a casual remark, but the words flowed from her as if she had been holding them in for years. "My mother... she was everything," Reifū said, her voice soft but filled with emotion.
She stared into the fire, the flickering flames reflected in her dark blue eyes. "She raised me on her own. Taught me everything I know. She was strong, so much stronger than I could ever hope to be."
Kūga listened quietly, his gaze focused on her as she spoke. He rarely interrupted when she opened up like this, understanding that some stories were meant to be heard without judgment.
"When she got sick," Reifū continued, her voice wavering slightly, "I tried everything I could to help her. But it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough." She paused, blinking away the sting of tears.
"She was all I had."
Kūga's expression softened. "She sounds like a remarkable woman."
Reifū nodded, a small, bittersweet smile on her lips. "She was. And I never got to properly say goodbye..."
There was a long silence before Kūga spoke again.
"I never knew my mother," he said quietly, his tone thoughtful.
"She died giving birth to me." He glanced up at the sky, the stars above casting a faint glow over the clearing. "My father raised me, though. He was a good man. Strong. He taught me everything I know about survival, about strength. But when I turned ten, he passed away too."
Reifū looked at him, her heart aching at the quiet sorrow hidden within his nonchalant voice in his voice. "What did you do after that?"
Kūga's lips curved into a small smile, one tinged with both nostalgia and pain.
"I went into the wilds. Alone. It was where I first began to understand my power, to learn what Aether truly was." He paused, his eyes distant as if recalling those early days. "But it was also where I met two heirs of powerful clans. Two boys who would eventually become my closest friends."
Reifū tilted her head, intrigued. "Clan heirs? Of powerful clans at that..."
Kūga nodded, his smile widening slightly. "Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju. Back then, they were strong for their age. But now..." He paused, his voice growing more confident. "Now, no one can rival them. Even if armies of thousands were to face just one of them, they wouldn't stand a chance."
Reifū raised an eyebrow, impressed but curious. "Oh Really, how about you? How do you compare to them?"
Kūga's grin returned, that infuriatingly proud grin that Reifū had come to both hate and admire. "If both of them, along with thousands of battalions, were to face me?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'd win."
Reifū snorted, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, right."
Kūga didn't say anything more and chuckle, continuing his gaze towards the stars.
And then for a moment, they just stared at each other, the quiet crackle of the fire filling the space between them. Reifū shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. He was infuriatingly confident, but there was something about his confidence that was hard to ignore.
~Flashback over~
Reifū's breath slowed as she finally straightened, her muscles aching from the exertion.
She glanced over at Kūga, who still stood watching her with that same calm, assessing look he always had.
Their closeness had grown over the past month, and this was because of her intense training and the quiet moments of vulnerability. And though he drove her crazy, there was no denying that Kūga Seiryu was unlike anyone she had ever met.
As she caught her breath, she couldn't help but wonder how far their journey would take them, and what more she had to learn about this enigmatic white-haired warrior who had changed her life in ways she had never expected.
.
Days after their training session, Kūga and Reifū set out for a new challenge—hunting.
The forest around them buzzed with the life of early morning, the cool air brushing against their skin as they walked silently through the dense undergrowth.
Kūga moved with an effortless grace, his white hair catching the dappled light filtering through the trees, while Reifū followed close behind, her eyes sharp and focused.
Today, it wasn't about sparring or mastering Aether techniques. No... Today, Kūga wanted to teach her the art of hunting. How to track, how to stalk, and most importantly, how to kill swiftly and efficiently.
Although it was far from the land of fire, the forest was vast, teeming with creatures both big and small, but their target was clear: deer.
Kūga paused, crouching low to the ground as his eyes scanned the area. He signaled for Reifū to do the same.
"Look," he whispered, pointing toward a patch of flattened grass near a bush. "Tracks. See how the hooves are pressed in here? It's fresh. There's a deer nearby."
Reifū leaned closer, her dark blue eyes narrowing as she studied the tracks. "How fresh?"
"Very," Kūga replied, his voice barely a breath. "We're close."
They moved silently through the forest, their steps light and careful, avoiding the crunch of leaves underfoot. After a few minutes, they spotted it... a deer grazing near the edge of a clearing, its head bowed as it nibbled at the grass.
Reifū's heart raced, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding her veins.
Kūga motioned for her to stop, crouching down behind the cover of a fallen log. He leaned in close to her ear, his voice a soft murmur. "Now, remember what I taught you. You aim for the neck, just below the jaw. Quick and clean."
Reifū nodded, feeling the weight of her bow in her hand. She slowly drew an arrow from her quiver, her fingers steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her. Kūga watched her closely, his sharp eyes studying every movement.
He gave a small nod of approval as she lined up her shot, her gaze locked on the deer.
For a moment, the world around them seemed to still. The forest fell silent, and all that existed was the space between Reifū and the deer.
She released the arrow, and in a heartbeat, it struck true.
The deer collapsed instantly, the arrow embedded in its neck.
Reifū exhaled, her breath coming out in a rush. Kūga grinned, clapping her on the back. "Not bad."
They approached the deer, and Reifū crouched down, her fingers brushing the soft fur of the animal.
There was a quiet respect in her movements, an understanding of what it meant to take a life for survival.
Kūga, however, wasn't one for solemn moments. He bent down and effortlessly lifted the front end of the deer using Aether, causing it to float in mid-air.
He smirked as Reifū stood, glaring at him.
"You could at least try carrying it," Reifū said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Kūga chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Then control Aether more," he teased, the deer's body swaying lightly in the air.
Reifū huffed, grabbing the rear legs of the deer and dragging them along as they walked. "I'm still learning! It's only been a month. I've managed to coat my body and weapons with Aether, and I bet I got that faster than you did."
Kūga's grin widened as he looked at her. "Oh really? By the end of my first month with Aether, I was juggling elements—fire, water, wind—like it was nothing."
Reifū scoffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes as she struggled to pull her side of the deer. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you were a prodigy from birth."
He just shrugged with that smug smile still on his face. "I'm not one to exaggerate."
As they neared the hut, the sun began to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows over the clearing. The air smelled fresh, filled with the earthy scent of the forest.
Kūga gently lowered the deer to the ground, the Aether dissipating as he gestured toward it.
"Now comes the hard part," he said, his tone shifting to one of instruction. "Skinning and butchering."
Reifū frowned, her body already aching from the hunt. "I thought the hunting was the hard part."
Kūga chuckled. "You wish."
The white haired man knelt beside the deer, pulling a small knife from his belt. He glanced up at Reifū, his eyes serious now. "Pay attention. This is where technique matters most."
He began to explain each step in meticulous detail, showing her how to make the initial cut along the belly, how to carefully peel back the skin without damaging the meat underneath.
Reifū followed his movements closely, trying to absorb every bit of information as she mimicked his actions. Her hands worked slowly, cautiously at first, but as she progressed, she became more confident in her cuts.
The task was grueling.
Sweat began to bead on Reifū's forehead as she struggled to skin the deer, her muscles protesting with every movement. Kūga worked beside her effortlessly, his hands moving with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times.
"You know," Kūga said casually, not even looking up from his work, "within my first week of hunting, I could skin and butcher anything. Deer, boar, even larger animals."
Reifū shot him a glare, her patience already wearing thin. "Of course you could," she muttered, sticking her tongue out at him in defiance. "Is there anything you weren't perfect at within a week?"
Kūga laughed, the sound rich and warm in the cool evening air. "I'm sure there's something. I just haven't found it yet."
Despite herself, Reifū found a small smile tugging at her lips. As annoying as he could be, there was something endearing about his confidence.
It was infuriating, but also... infectious.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Reifū sat back, wiping her brow. The deer had been successfully skinned and butchered, the meat ready to be cooked. She let out a long breath, her arms aching from the effort.
Kūga, of course, looked as though he hadn't broken a sweat. "Not bad," he said, nodding in approval. "You're getting the hang of it."
Reifū shot him a sideways glance. "Getting the hang of it? I just did all the hard work while you stood there like a princess the whole time."
Kūga chuckled, standing up and stretching. "You're welcome to believe that."
.
As the sky darkened and the stars began to appear overhead, Kūga started a fire near the hut.
He gestured for Reifū to bring the cuts of venison, and together they prepared to cook their meal. Kūga took the lead, showing her how to season the meat properly, how to cook it over the fire without charring it, and how to tell when it was done.
"Venison's tricky," Kūga said, turning the meat over the flames. "You have to cook it just right, or it'll come out tough."
Reifū watched closely, fascinated by his expertise. "You're pretty good at this."
Kūga glanced at her with a grin. "What? Cooking?"
She nodded. "Yeah. For someone who's always fighting or training, you're surprisingly domestic."
Kūga laughed, shaking his head. "You pick up a few things when you spend years living in the wild."
Reifū smiled, turning her attention back to the fire.
The smell of the cooking venison filled the air, rich and savory. As the meat sizzled over the flames, they sat in companionable silence, the crackling of the fire and the sounds of the forest their only company.
When the meat was finally done, Kūga handed her a piece, his grin returning. "Here. First taste goes to the student."
Reifū took a bite, savoring the flavor. It was tender, perfectly cooked, the seasoning just right.
She nodded in approval, a satisfied smile on her face. "Not bad," she said, her voice teasing. "For a teacher."
Kūga chuckled, taking a bite of his own. "I'll take that as a compliment."
They sat together by the fire, sharing the meal they had worked so hard to prepare.
There was a quiet understanding between them now, a bond forged not just in training, but in the simple act of survival. In that moment, as the stars twinkled overhead and the warmth of the fire surrounded them, they weren't just teacher and student. They were something more... something deeper.
And for the first time in a long time, Reifū felt at peace.