Sandy Grind [Training]

[Ikeda Sasuke]

Taijutsu: Day [1]

[/u][/size][/center]→ Reasoning.

A few days ago, Ikeda Sasuke, the boy in a white T with a yellow hat attached to his neck with a long cylinder-like object tied to his back, fought an individual to a short spar. It revealed quite a few things about his current situation regarding individuals with Long-Range ability greater than his own, and that was simple: He could not compete. Normally, Long-Range Fighters would hone their skills to top proficiency, and those lose a lot of natural ability and lack aptitude in Taijutsu, however, Sasuke learned on that day that doing that would only be his undeniable end. He had to train his body, as well as techniques to enhance and cover his weaknesses.

So here he was.

The Great Oasis Training Grounds, know for making some of the greatest Sunagakure Shinobi in history. They let out their blood, sweat, tears, frustrations, curses, and worries out on this field, and it felt amazing to be within this area. With that, just like those shinobi, he would never give up. He placed Kyomu on the side, and moved about a few meters from her as he begun to perform breathing exercises.

→ Strength

The first step to training Taijutsu was to enhance ones physical strength. This can be done through various methods, but as he was weak physically, it was best he started on a smaller scale of push-ups, squats[for leg strength], weight training[both constant & immediate], and sit ups to keep the core strong. Albeit the last method was not something needed for muscle training, it was always best to establish a good core, as well as arms and legs muscles.

He got on a solid ground, and lowered himself to push-up position until he got in the correct posture while maintaining a high full arm-length distance to the ground. Lets begin. He pulsated his muscles downwards, already feeling the burn with just one, his arm was trembling in response, and it felt like he couldn't push himself upwards. Was he really this weak? There was no need to come to the realization of physical weakness as he remained most of his shinobi career in long-distance battles, either forced or maintained. However, in the Academy, he never did good in Taijutsu, and if it wasn't for his exceptional abilities in everything else, he probably wouldn't have passed the Academy. Well, whatever.

"One![/i][/color]" He pushed himself upwards, fully extending his arms from his earlier perpendicular position. He had to push himself. Again! He continued. Two. Three. Four. He was starting to feel the massive burn within his arms already on the fourth push, and he could just feel in his skin that Kyomu was perhaps laughing at this pitiful excuse of a human being. He'll prove her wrong! Five. Six. Seven. Sweat poured profusely from his armpits and forehead. Intense. Will the rest of this 2 week training regime be this tough? If so, perhaps he should just quit. Yeah, just...quit. That was his thoughts, but the smell of the training grounds and the distant noises of those that didn't give up and reached the top was too awe inspiring to just give up. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. This continued at a slow pace, perhaps three seconds between each post, and as each 3 push, it would increase by a second.

"Damn. Why do Taijutsu Users put themselves through this torture?[/i][/color]" He asked himself earnestly, but also as a way to forget the pain stemming from his arms. He continued. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. His breath became so laboured and his mind almost blanked out from pure exhaustion. His arms felt like puddy in the rain being bombarded by needles - that unbelievable! He wanted to fall, but he just needed to reach one more for his goal of strength training regarding push-ups. Come on! He let his arm drop in a perfect right angle and pushed himself up in triumphant struggle. Twenty-Five.

His arms gave up, and he fell on the floor, rolled to his back, and stared at the sky as his arms wouldn't move any longer. God. Taijutsu Users...they are gifted to withstand such pain.

-- 30 Second Break.

→ Technical Skill

It pained him in his attempt to get up, luckily, his leg strength was more adequate that he used those as crutches to lift himself up rather than his flabby arms that went side by side as if they weren't an extension of his body. There was a rule that an individual attempting to train in Taijutsu can not rest for more than a minute, and as such, has to keep his muscles and body moving to keep himself into it, or he'll fail, and such, he followed that unwritten law to the letter. Taking various deep breathes, he got into the basic fighting stance taught in the academy, some would call it the "basis" of all Taijutsu, at least in Suna, but in truth, it was just arms a little ways off to the chest, fist half clenched, and knees slightly bent.

"Sharp Punches & Fluid Kicks. That was it? Right?[/i][/color]" He asked himself and Kyomu, no verbal response was given, but that was the basis of Taijutsu taught at the Academy. Good Punches & Good Kicks. However, he liked the reiteration of Sharp Punches and Fluid Kicks. He held his stance, and punched forward into the air. There was no crackle and the punch seemed like it was thrown by a baby. His arms still as fabby, but that wasn't it. He just...never really had the need to deliver a punch himself, and utilize his puppet for such a method. He had reset his stance, and tried for a sharper punch with his alternate hand. He reset once more, and tried again, continue to alternate between punches.

"Ha! Again! Ha! Again! Ha! Again! Ha! Ha! Ha! Again! Ha! Ha! Ha! Again! Ha![/i][/color]" He kept alternating between left and right fists, adjusting his power and speed for that delicate sharpness he wants when hitting an object, of course, he only calculated this by the sounds of his punches, and won't be able to tell until he hit a real object; however, he wanted to be at least close to perfection before he hits an object and injuries his hand suddenly.

He kept taking deep breathes, and released punch after punch, until the amount of punches he made was uncountable, and all there was to be heard was a consistent snap of his fist, and the sound of it breaking the air in a crisp quiet sound. His breathing timed so perfectly it didn't overlap over the sound of his fists final stop. It was beautiful. Before he knew it, it had already been 20 minutes of constantly punching the air and adjusting his form. Did he have a talent in punching? He wondered this as he stopped and bowed to the sandy gods that reigned over the field.

"Now for kicks. To start,[/i][/color]" He begun talking to himself as if reading from an instructional manual, "there are three types of main kicks, high kick, mid-kick, and low kick. Each attacking different parts of the body and presents different types of effectiveness. High kick aiming for the head, commonly a finisher, mid-kick aims for the torso to damage ribs, deal damage, and has the highest ratio of hitting the opponent. Low kicks are aimed at the legs, specifically the back and sides of the legs, bruising the opponents legs and thigh to slow down movement, and it deals the least damage out of the three.[/i][/color]"

He had a plan, to alternate between kicks. High-Kick. Mid-Kick. Low-Kick. Mid-Kick. High-Kick. Mid-Kick. Low-Kick. Keep performing this repetitive motion, adjust his stance to get better balance, longer reach, and higher speed and power. He was already exhausted from the push-ups and punches, sweating bullocks from doing so, but he didn't stop. His persistent was unbelievable.

"Ha![/i][/color]" This session kept going for about 30 minutes, despite legs being heavier and having more variety, the need to adjust his stance and kick with both left and right legs bore higher time consumption. Tch. He fell on his ass afterwards. His legs, arms, and body was exhausted to the point he contemplated suicide. It would be easier to grab a kunai and plunge it into his heart, but...gah, it was too far, and as such, he couldn't.

-- 1 Minute Break.

After back to back technical training, it was off to undergo a higher stress, but he needed to keep himself hydrated as he was already low on fumes and bodily fluids as they escaped his body through his milky skins pores. His walk over to Kyomu and the bags he left earlier was a long one. His legs trembling with every step, aching for him to stop, but he couldn't. He persevered and refuse to listen to his body. He had to continue. Grabbing the cold bottle of water felt like an accomplish like no other, and putting it to his lips and letting it sink down, revitalizing and dehydrating his body was more than enough to say this was the best feeling of his life. Moving one's finger was never this hard.

→ Stamina

He performed some light post-stretches, readying himself for one last session. Stamina, and as endurance should have already increased from heightening his muscles, ability he can last, and training in martial arts, this was the last point he needed to take care of. It was simple really. Run. Run for 1 hour around the training grounds, even with these puddy legs, he can do it, right? He was just trying to build his stamina, nothing more, not like increasing his speed, so he just needs to keep running for 1 hour at a constant and steady pace. LET'S GO!

He ran. Step at a time. Circling the Training Grounds. At around the 20 minutes mark, he wanted to faint. Give up life. Jump off a cliff, or perhaps bury himself in the ground, but the memories of the individuals who went through similar training and didn't give up gave him inspiration. He adjusted his running stance to be solid, blanked out his mind, and ran. He kept running. No question of time. No question of when will this be over. He just ran. One hour passed in what felt like seconds. Two hours passed in what felt like minutes. Three hours passed in what felt like a hour. He stopped subconsciously. His body filled with sweat to the brink, his body aching all over, and his legs incapable of moving an inch. His eyes searched the area to see where he was, and he saw Kyomu just a few feet away.

He feel, and slept, right then, right there. It was over...for now.

[Word Count]: [1810]
[Dialogue Color]: B87333
[Dialogue Text]: TROCHUT
[Dialogue Template]: "Words[/i][/color]"
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