Ninja University

Target Practice

Ryan led me to where his brother was teaching a class. Everyone turned to look at us, ignoring Lukas' futile tries to draw their attention back.
I soon realized that I had made Ryan late to his class. I sent apologetic glances his way, but he ignored me. He frowned at his brother, who's eyes lit up at the sight of me, for some reason.
"Ryan," Lukas called. "Thank you oh so much for coming to my class finally."
"I ran into a little pain that wouldn't wait," Ryan responded, gesturing to me. I stuck my tongue out at his back and made a face. "Isn't she cute, she thinks I can't see her making faces at me."
"Since you allowed yourself to be distracted by such a pain-"
"Target practice," someone called from the crowd. "On both."
Ryan groaned as his brother nodded in agreement. He took off his shirt, to display a target painted red on his stomach. I gulped.
"How many times-" I started to ask.
"Yesterday was my seventh time," he murmured back to me, turning around. "Take off your shirt." I gaped at him. "You can wear the tank top you have on under that shirt."
"How-how'd you know?" I stammered, taking off my cotton tee. I could feel eyes on me as my tank top rolled up with it.
Someone whistled and another yelled, "Take it off!" I rolled my eyes and stuffed my cotton shirt in my little backpack.
Ryan pulled out a red spray can and leaned close. As he sprayed my shirt, a target, he whispered, "Sorry for getting you into this mess, Elizabelle."
"It shouldn't hurt that bad, right?" He smirked at me. "It's all good."
"I've been the 'volunteer' for this every time we do it. And let me tell you, it hurts every fu-freaking time. It doesn't get better."
"Crap," I responded. "I'm not good with pain." He gave me a weird look.
"Come on, slowpokes," Lukas called, grinning. He was going to enjoy this! Oh that little- bad Elizabelle; he saved you. Don't think like that, I told myself.
I followed Ryan, who walked up to the front of the room. I stood next to him, a few feet away.
"Class, get out your bows." I flinched and looked at Ryan. He didn't flinch, but he met my glance. He lifted his chin defiantly, and watched as I did too. We were in this together. Against the whole class.
"Don't cry," he whispered. "They feed off that. Just show them that it doesn't hurt. They'll be more accepting of you then."
"Like I would give them a reason to make fun of me. They obviously don't like me already. I'm in the front of the room, about to be pierced with arrows," I said, rolling my eyes again.
"The arrows don't have points. But these ninjas can make them hurt. Just wait."
As everyone gathered their bows and arrows, Ryan told me how to react. "Your face shouldn't ever display fear, sadness, or pain. They will hurt you with that. They like anger. It helps them bond to you, how messed up is that? Anyways, stick with me. I'll be in all your classes, except the work schedules and talent time." He said, his face becoming a rock of zero emotion.
"Time!" Lukas yelled. After a few seconds, someone let out an arrow. It sailed past my head. "Damien, the stomach only!" Another arrow zoomed toward me, but as I watched, as everyone else, it spun around and zoomed back at the shooter. Into his stomach. He left out an "oof!" and stumbled back.
"Tyler, shoot at her," Lukas commanded, his face serious. Tyler shot an arrow, but it zoomed past me by a mile. Tyler's face grew red and he shot more arrows. He yelled in frustration when every shot missed.
Ryan looked at me, his eyes wide. "Tyler never misses. He's the best archer in the class," he whispered. "He missed you. Every time."
"You stopped him," Lukas said. "You-you stopped him." He stared at me, his face draining of blood. "You're invincible."