Sanji's day of training ( private )

Sanji woke up just as the sun began to fill his home with it's dim early morning light. He had plenty of training planned for today and getting an early start seemed like the best idea. For starters he threw another log into his now extinguished fireplace. Using a match he ignited a piece of fatwood ( sap-laden shards of wood ) the wood easily igniting given how much sap it contained. The scent of the sweet sap filled the room as it burned, staying lit long enough to gradually get the much larger log going. He shifted and stoked his fire quietly, there was something therapeutic about the process and the sight itself of a fire going like this. He took this opportunity to sit before the fireplace and shut his eyes, meditating as well as thinking about what he might want to do today. He mused thoughtfully over the possibilities. Sure, he could head over to Hokage Rock and climb, that was always good for building strength and stamina, but his hands still weren't fully healed from the last trip up that treacherous bit of stone. He also considered a weighted run, such as hauling large buckets of waters held on a bar he would hold on his shoulders as he jogged along. Then he thought about maybe trying to learn a new technique; other than his taijutsu, he felt he was lacking, having only a few basic jutsu in his repertoire.

For now he'd leave that question for when the time came to actually get ready and head out to train. His fire was just now picking up steam, the flames licking at the air erratically as they slowly begin to engulf the rugged bark and the sap-laden wood of the large pine log he was burning in his fireplace. The warmth was so soothing on a crisp fall day, the dry air and the bitter wind a reminder that it won't be long before this period of transition gives way to winter. It was merely another season, Sanji had no opinion on it, except perhaps if there is significant snow he figured there would be odd jobs that would come with that in the form of E or D-Rank 'missions'. He also began to think of how wintertime and snowstorms allowed for ample cover for an assault on the village, team, lone shinobi or even innocents. Even when the trees didn't hide all its dangers, the forest was still quite dangerous.

Sanji soon snapped out of his thought-induced daze and stood from the floor, quietly walking into the kitchen and filling that trusty - if a bit dented - kettle with water before hanging it on a hook that dangled above the fire. Sanji also grabbed an iron skillet and set it onto a grate he'd made to sit above the flames in his fireplace to allow an easier time of cooking in it. He waited for the water to boil and before doing anything else he put some dried tea leaves into a strainer pot and then poured some of the piping hot water into it to make himself some tea. After that he used the remainder of the water in his skillet and added an appropriate amount of rice to it - 1 part of rice to 2 parts water, the universal ratio for cooking rice. He added a little salt to the mixture and watched it, waiting for it to boil once more. Given that it'd take a moment to actually get the water boiling, he walked out of his home and quickly rushed down the street, amused to see Konoha and its citizens slowly waking up to greet the cool but beautiful fall morning. A store nearby was Sanji's aim, and he got there within but a moment before perusing its merchandise. Coming up with some cream and honey, he walked to the counter, nodding in greeting to the shopkeeper, who smiled in a bit of a groggy manner herself as she rang up his total price. " 5 ryo." She says. Without a word Sanji hands over the appropriate amount of money before moving toward the door." I better hurry, I think my rice is already boiling." he says. She looked at him knowingly." Oooh, making sweet rice are you? I've loved that since I was a little girl. My grandmother made it for me every other morning when I would stay with her. Such a nice breakfast, don't you think?" she replies. Sanji was clearly in a hurry but he made time for her against his better judgment, not wishing to be rude to her." Absolutely. It's one of my favorites as well." he replies to her before moving for the exit again." Oh that's nice. Well, have a nice breakfast, Sanji-kun!" she says with a delightful wave. He smiles back faintly and nods." Uhh... you too." He says, before quickly exiting the store and averting an embarrassing situation, or at least escaping it. It is such a drag to reply to niceties in a peculiar manner. Sanji's people skills still needed work, it seems. Without a moment to spare he literally sprinted the distance back to his home.

As suspected, his rice was boiling but it wasn't too badly into it to say he had botched cooking it. He took it off the heat and put on the lid to the pan to hold the steam inside it. He even decided to sweeten up and richen his tea when he poured it. Holding a stoneware mug, he carefully drizzled a little of the honey into it, before pouring some cream in as well, watching the liquid go from clear to opaque as soon as the cream dispersed inside it. He used his finger to stir it before taking a seat by the fireplace again and sitting down. When it came to starting the day, Sanji might appear like more of an old man than a ninja in the prime of his youth. He didn't always rush out the door, preferring to greet the day in a peaceful, easy manner. Tentative sips at the tea would cut through the silence of his empty home, before curiosity suddenly piqued within him and he reached to a small table nearby, grabbing his ninja tool pouch. He opened the pouch up before setting it gently on the wooden floor before him, deciding it would be in his best interest if he did a little inventory on its contents, the sound-minded shinobi figuring it wouldn't hurt to be prepared, as there was rarely if ever a moment where a ninja could truly relax. Just in case he got accosted while he was out training, he'd have some tools to make his life a little easier if a battle ensued and he was forced to defend himself. He sipped at the tea frequently while he looked at his things, and then he cast a gaze over at the katana on the wall, having mounted it there himself after receiving it on a mission he had completed with Nero Yamaki. Though he wouldn't go through the paces of training with the katana itself, preferring the idea of using a bokken to learn swordplay.

He looked down at the rice, the edges of the lid had settled firmly into it, a sure sign the majority of the steaming had been done. He lifted off the lid and reached to his table, grabbing a pair of chopsticks before putting them in his mouth, biting down on one, and pulling the other apart from it. After eating a piece of the rice he found it to be well-cooked, and proceeded to reach for the cream again, pouring a decent amount into it. He then set the cream aside and grabbed the honey, carefully drizzling the golden liquid over his rice. Stirring it around with the chopsticks he then tested it, before adding a little more cream and honey to it, first the cream, a modest dose, and then the honey, adding only a little more. Once that was done the chopsticks were again used to stir the concoction within the skillet, and when he tested it it tasted just right. As far as Sanji was concerned from then on it was mealtime, so he lifted the skillet and emptied its contents into a large bowl. The rice steamed beautifully as he left it there and stood up, taking the pan back into the kitchen and filling it with water so it'd be easy to clean later. Sanji then froze in his tracks, and decided to simply clean the skillet now to get it over with, after all he might want to cook himself something in it when he gets back and it would save him the trouble of cleaning it then, allowing him to get to the process of cooking his meal faster as he would probably be famished, though this type of breakfast would definitely stay with him a while, and it had plenty of calories for the sake of giving his body more energy to burn through what would no doubt be a marathon training session. Up at the crack of dawn, he fully intended to train until the sun had resigned itself to the confines of the horizon before he would stop. Ever since his training journey Sanji had felt he was slacking. Though he had been doing missions, he hadn't been training like he usually did. That was to stop today. He needed to get a lot stronger if he was ever to hope to survive in this brutal ninja world. Those who were lazy often paid for it with their lives or at the very least a grievous injury that spelled the end to their ninja careers.

Sanji went back and sat down to eat his breakfast, quietly eating a few bites of his rice at a time before sipping from his mug of tea. By this time the morning light was spilling in through the windows and illuminating the place brightly. He was in no hurry though, there was a whole forest to use for his training if need be. The rice went quickly, testament to his hunger since he didn't bother eating dinner after he got home, preferring to just relax and rest for the next day. His eyes focused on his tea as he thought about various things, like Azaiyo's rather discourteous cameo at the party he had went to the night before. Sanji wasn't up on the details but apparently Azaiyo either mistook Nightshade for someone else or this new girl he hadn't seen around the village before last night had some secrets she was willfully, or unwillfully concealing from the rest of them. Still, Sanji didn't think it was his place to pry, after all she seemed like a nice girl, but at the same time that is definitely no reason for one to drop their guard. That's the best way to get your name written on the epitaph that contained the names of ninjas who had fallen in battle. With one final gulp Sanji finished his tea and stood up with the bowl and mug in his hand, setting them both in the sink before running water into them and cleaning them up. He tossed the disposable chopsticks in the garbage and stretched out, his head tilting from side to side, causing popping sounds to resound from within. At last it seemed to be time for him to gear up. Sitting down in the living room he slipped his boots on one by one after slipping into a pair of socks, and tied them securely, both held in place with a double knot in the laces. Then he grabbed his belt which had its buckle replaced with one fashioned with the forehead protector he received upon becoming a genin, and he looped the belt around his waist, loosely fastening it into place. After that he simply secured his ninja tool pouch to the belt and grabbed his cloak off the hook nearby, slipping it around his broad, muscular shoulders. At last he was fed and ready to head out to train the day away, not planning on returning until either the sun quit or he did, and the former didn't stand much of a chance in a contest like that.

Sanji walked toward the front door and opened it wide, a chilly fall breeze hitting him as soon as the door was opened. He walked outside and shut the door behind him, before locking it with his key, which he tossed haphazardly into his ninja tool pouch just for safe keeping. The streets by this time were bustling with villagers and ninjas alike, the market stands were in full swing with their wares, whether it be fresh produce and meat, or diverse trinkets from various countries, though some of those pieces might be counterfiet, they still made for decent merchandise. He navigated the crowds carefully, looking about for familiar faces, but there were too many to really examine in one swing. So he decided to simply keep going to his destination. He soon approached the academy, students already within studying and practicing, or one would hope so. It's vital since they are the ones who will inherit the village and the challenges that come with it, so they had better get ready to handle the challenges they will face in a world of uncertainty, where living to see the next day is a blessing one can't take for granted. If they do, lady luck is liable to turn on them when they need her most. The subject of luck reminds Sanji of that merchant who took offense to his analysis of a rabbit's foot not being terribly lucky since the rabbit loses its foot in order for such charms to exist. Likely, it loses all 4 and its life along with it.

Taking a detour behind the academy he walked to the area where the training grounds would be. This would be fine for a warmup but as his last trip here showed him, he had already outgrown this place. Still, it had some amenities he'd be able to utilize in his training. He stepped upon grass that still showed signs of the previous night's chill, frost laden blades shot up from the ground, undeterred by the cold weather for the time, and untouched as of yet in the course of this day in particular by the sun's warming rays to thaw the night's bitter cold. Leaves in the trees around the village showed that the season was changing, they had since changed into a myriad of bright, vivid colors. It was truly a sight to behold. Save for the occasional evergreen tree, the landscape couldn't be more colorful if an artist painted every single leaf. Such a lovely thing to witness, and it was such things that made him pity the village hidden in the sand just a bit. Save for trips to this place, or others lucky enough to have lush greenery, they never saw such brilliant things. The desert was unchanging, seemingly eternal in its drab appearance. But it too could harbor impressive beauty now and then. It was just a question of how long the winds and the sand would allow such beautiful things to remain.

Soon Sanji was on the ground, leaning forward in a seated position and laying his head against his own kneecaps, thoroughly stretching his long, powerful legs. Those legs were vital in his particular fighting style, they gave him an outstanding reach advantage, often he was able to keep other fighters at bay just on the merit of his kicks alone. Because it wasn't just their range that was troubling, it was their damage. He always made sure to kick as if the whole world was kicking with him, so when it met its mark, it did respectable damage, whether simply enough to deter a foe, incapacitate him/her, or in extreme cases deliver the fatal blow to said enemies. Still, he wasn't satisfied with his present strength, otherwise he wouldn't be here in this place as he is now, and certainly not planning a marathon of training to fill out his day in lieu of the more common practice of executing missions for the village. Unless an emergency popped up this is where he would stay. It almost seemed like a waste to use one's day off for this, but at the same time that was the life that one chose when they decided to become a ninja. It seemed almost glamorous to onlookers, but anyone who lives this life runs the risk of losing themselves in the mire. Some hunger for power and they don't care who they step on to get it. Others fight valiantly for the right thing but still fall at the feet of tyrants in the long run. Others still lose their lives without even realizing they were in danger to begin with. It was a true manifestation of survival of the fittest. The only difference here is the fittest don't always have the minds that we'd like them to have, some even crumbling under the pressure of many harsh memories, from losing loved ones to personally committing atrocities because the order was given to them to do so.

Life as tools for those in power, it seemed bleak and it was understandable why some wanted to rise above and claim such silly tradition as their own personal pulpit from which to rule. But no matter how much political power one holds, he's only 1 successful attack from being yesterday's news. As Sanji laid back and lifted his legs, stretching and working his abs slowly, he wondered just why he got into it. The only reason he could really say was that he wanted to be like those who came before him. After that every other answer eluded him at the time. Now it seemed clear that the strong must protect the weak, preserving the lives of those under your care and trying desperately to improve the world around you. It sounds idyllic, and yet it's so hard to achieve, hence why no one has done it yet. It made Sanji wonder why the sage of the six paths would be so naive, despite the tales describing his greatness, as to trust such a thing as ninjutsu with the world, and to encourage its passing to everyone that can possibly be touched by it. It seems irresponsible but then hindsight is 20/20. No one can foresee others becoming bad apples, some of the most upstanding ninjas have turned rogue because of reasons that seem rather silly, but nonetheless made perfect sense to them. It's merely expected that as time wears on and everyone lives their lives as they see fit, they must also deal with those who would undo their lives for some selfish scheme of their own. It was something they could only deal with on a case-by-case basis. Often when someone turns rogue, it's too late to save them. Sometimes it is too late before they even make their move.

Sanji stood up from the ground and blew air into his slightly cold hands before realizing he'd never get warmed up like this. So, even though he had just arrived at the training ground moments ago, he wrapped his cloak around himself and partially covered his face, before taking off in a rather brisk jog. He ran back the way he came, passing by the same market street shenanigans he had passed only 30 minutes before. The cloth over his face helped to negate the sometimes uncomfortable burn that came with breathing in cold air at accelerated rates during exercise. As Sanji passed through the crowds and made his way to the village gate, he stopped at the guard station and decided to talk to them." Hey, just going to do a few laps around the outside of the village. I'll also use the opportunity to patrol a bit and make sure nothing suspicious is out there." The sleepy guard yawned and waved him through, and as soon as the large gate creaked its way open, he ran through it and took a hard right. His eyes scanned the ground, the trees, anything he could to see if there was evidence of tampering. Through the first initial stretch there was none, but as he reached the point where the barrier met the mountain where the Hokage faces were carved, he saw some strange markings. They didn't look like jutsu formula, but then he had heard that there was more than one way to formulate such things. It would be best if a sensory-type ninja came out to take a look at it, as he wasn't exactly fit for that job. Other than great, albeit normal eyesight and acute hearing, he had nothing special about him in that regard.

With that Sanji turned around and started to head back. The glint of a sharpened kunai blade as the sun reflected off of it caught his eye and he took out a kunai of his own, quickly tossing it at the flying kunai and the two weapons collided in mid-air, a loud clang of metal resounding. Before he could give chase to the shadow he saw moving through the trees 2 ANBU bounded from the wall to surrounding trees themselves, and another appeared before Sanji." We'll handle it from here, go back inside the village." said the masked ANBU. Sanji looked a bit annoyed at this." Would you take it lightly if someone threw a kunai at you? That's not something I forgive too easily." remarked Sanji with a scowl. The ANBU looked as non-descript as ever, as was their intention, the unmoving mask's face staring back at him, only able to make out eyes through it." I understand, but please let us handle this." the ANBU remarked right back. With a sigh Sanji nodded, before saying," Take a look at the markings on the wall by the mountain, I think it might be a jutsu formula." Said Sanji, reporting what he had seen, which he assumed to be the reason why someone just threw a kunai at his head." We'll look into it. Please go back inside the village." It seemed Sanji was forbidden from exacting a little revenge, so he picked up his kunai and tucked it back in the pouch, leaving the other where it lay. With that he took off running back to the gate rather than just leaping over the wall, and the ANBU he had been speaking to was soon off to give chase along with the other two, trying to find out who was so bold as to attack a Konoha shinobi out of the blue like that, as well as trespassing within the confines of the sensory barrier.

As Sanji got back around to the village gate, it was shut tight. He grumbled lightly and buzzed the guard, who then let him through a smaller hidden door around the side before abruptly pinning Sanji to the wall." Sorry, we can't be too careful." He says. Just then he heard radios being used and a sensory-type ninja being dispatched his way. He just wanted to see the sights and be outside the walls for a little while and now he was getting searched, though it made sense because he had just been attacked, which everyone was clearly aware of, and now they wanted to make sure he wasn't a clone that the enemy was using to infiltrate the village. At last, a hyuuga girl showed up in a chuunin's flak jacket, looking at Sanji with her light lavender eyes. Without so much as a greeting she formed the seal of the tiger and said," Byakugan!" to activate that doujutsu that made her family so famous. Sanji looked on with muted interest as he was thoroughly scanned and looked over. She studied him for so long that he was beginning to wonder if she thought she found something, until she spoke up." He's clean." She said. The guard nodded and let him go, easing away with a kunai in his hand, having readied it in case he needed to kill Sanji should he turn out to be a fake. Sanji was led out the front entrance of the guard station and now, having been let back in his home village after being treated like a criminal, he continued his jog undaunted.

Powerful legs propelled him, one step after another, the heavy boots he wore digging and grinding into the gravel-laden paths that criss-crossed the whole village. He was clearly taking the scenic route to get back to the training grounds. The sun was finally beginning to warm the area a bit after a frosty night, and soon he was forced to undo his cloak and let it flag behind him, his heavily-muscled torso now glistening with sweat from the added warmth that the cloak held in during his run. Sanji took his time and sort of gave himself an informal tour of the village, as there were some areas he didn't frequent, maybe even some he had never been to. The paths soon ran out for him, however, as he finally made it back to the training grounds. He panted lightly, just the sign of a good warmup, having hardly been winded by such a short run. He merely breathed deeply and often to make sure his muscles got plenty of air, otherwise stamina would count for absolutely nothing. Once he stood firm on the training ground, he abruptly began to shadowbox. Loud whoosh sounds accompanied every pantomimed fight maneuver, starting out by throwing powerful punches at the air. His big fists would snap to a standstill only briefly before being pulled back in just as another was being thrown. He also worked on practicing various positional strikes, this automatically forcing him to also be dilligent with how he worked on his footwork. One wrong step in battle could easily mean death, so he never took his fundamentals for granted.

Just like any good fighter Sanji was mindful of the whole area around him, listening for even others approaching as they went to other training grounds or would decide to join him on this one. He didn't mind either way, he made it a point not to be deterred, because he wanted to make the most of this day where he had all his time to himself, to focus on improving, seemingly a neverending struggle for ninjas because they had absolutely no choice. It was common knowledge for all that sitting on your hands and slacking too much meant that if you got in a fight for your life, it was dangerously apparent that you would run a much greater risk of falling by the hands of any given enemy. So Sanji stressed great footwork above all. He started throwing well-balanced kicks, favoring leg and midsection strikes over reckless kicks to the head simply because he liked to use his legs for zoning his opponent out or making opportunities for him to get closer and utilize all of that natural strength he had, which as many had seen first-hand, was deadly. Even if he didn't hit his opponent, sometimes the mere psychological aspect of having someone slugging punches and kicks at you with so much might was enough to make someone make a mistake in the spirit of covering themselves as a safety precaution. The best defense is a good offense, most would say, and time and time again that addage proved to be right. Of course it wasn't always, but the exception in a deadly game like a battle can sometimes rear its ugly head and claim the lives of even the most talented ninjas, renowned the world over for their abilities, only to be taken down in a battle because they were too cocky or too short-sighted to see the opponent's tactics, and the shortcomings inherent in those tactics.

The sound of constant strikes being levied at the air before Sanji seemed to fill the whole training ground for quite a while, the soil below his large boots even dotted with darker spots from sweat flying right off his form and soaking into the ground below him. Suddenly, Sanji stopped and eyed a large rock with a malevolent scowl, as if he was seeing his absolute worst nemesis standing right before him. He ran up with impressive speed for one of his size and began wailing on the rock with those precision strikes. Sure, Sanji's style didn't exude the grace of styles such as the gentle fist style made famous by the Hyuuga clan, but nonetheless it worked for him. In fact he favored it over the style taught to academy students, so much so that in their student vs student spars he would totally forgo the style he was taught and simply use whatever he thought worked, having studied and trained rather hard even in those days to trim all the fat from his style, anything that felt unnecessary was gone, and anything he saw from any style that looked effective, he sought to incorporate it, even if it was simply a child biting the arm of another child. Such acts were great for surprise attacks against unwary opponents, and it is in those brief moments of advantage that he would strike with deadly force and potentially expunge the threat to him from the very planet they all lived on, all because of a simple, childish fighting maneuver that often hailed surprising results. It was also this that taught him a valuable tenet that came in handy whenever he was involved in a battle - The pain will be there after the fight, don't be distracted by it in the middle of the fight. There's plenty of time to hurt after you win. He lived by this and it had shown when a bear had clawed his chest in a mission, leaving three distinctive claw marks in his chest. He wore that mark with pride, not because it was very prominent on his form, but because in that moment when he got clawed he managed to sneak in a fatal shot to the throat on the attacking creature, sending it to oblivion and leaving him to tend his profusely bleeding wounds. He lived to see another day and that animal didn't all because he simply was not willing to allow pain to jar him from his objective - winning the fight. And he did, decisively.

The rock began to crack and chip under the heavy blows that Sanji laid upon it, and even though it was nearly twice his size in terms of the space it takes up, he suddenly let out a primal yell that echoed through the training grounds. His gloved fists clenched tightly before he drew them both to his waist in a horse riding stance, his head bowed. It was like that yell was the shift to another gear, and suddenly out of nowhere a sustained and wavering yell resounded and rang throughout the area and in other surrounding training grounds, followed by the sound of stone getting utterly pummeled.His primal noise of rage pervaded by the motion of rapid fire punches, he rained blows that by themselves could very well be killshots down onto the area of rock just before him, the stone cracking and chipping. As the fury ensued Sanji seemed almost like he would drill through the very stone itself, but before that happened the rapid blows of awesome force severed all the structural integrity contained within the massive stone before him, and he crumbled it with nothing but fists and the power and technique to make each punch hit its mark in the most brutal, effective way possible. One final lunging power punch that made him skid across the ground where only rubble now remained obliterated the giant boulder he suddenly took issue with. Any onlookers might be utterly bewildered by the display, and a little frightened as Sanji just stood there, panting softly to help get air back into his body to ease the burning of the muscles he lit on fire with such a brutal display of power.

Soon, Sanji stood looking down at the mess he made, that was a reminder of why the wooden and cloth training dummies just a few feet away for him were no longer sufficient for him to strike. He needed something that could stand up to his powerful onslaught, and even solid stone hadn't passed the test. It mattered little, however. He would soon surpass most anything's structual integrity if he kept this up. Most looking on might think he is done, but that is anything but the case. He suddenly let out another yell and began throwing punches in much of the same manner as he had when he had thrown it at the rock he stood in front of. It was an awesome display, fists punching through the air so fast and powerfully one might make out distortions as molecules collide and the air seemed to fold in a weird way when pushed out of the way, only to have the vacuum filled the second the punch was drawn back, and then the same air disturbance created again. He just kept going, even taking in air in a shaky inward inhalation amidst the onslaught that he brought against the innocent air, just ike that innocent rock. His eyes narrowed when his muscles again began burning, even the muscles in his legs tasked with keeping him stable in this position. A final yell spelled the grand finale, and his eyes seemed to roll back in his head, terrible thoughts coming into his mind which helped stave off the effects of the pain that his hard-working muscles kept giving off as a warning for him to tone it down. This lasted for almost 2 solid minutes, like he was trying so hard to destroy every single bone, sinew, muscle fiber, cell, even atom that his imaginary enemy's body contained. The still cool morning showed it's temperature as steam began rising off of him, testament to how much heat he was putting out with this absolutely insane series of punches, throwing literally thousands of punches as hard as he possibly could.

It seemed though a moment later that his body's warning meter kicked on and he dropped to his knees right there on the training ground, his face showing more expression than it had in a long time as he came to rest on his hands and knees, sweat dripping off of his virile physique at multiple locations, but none more prominent than his face, his chin and nose to be exact." What was that...?" He asked himself. Feelings of raw hate and sheer blind rage filled him all at once in that moment. It was true that when striking for a purpose, when inspired by something or someone that had wronged you in such a way that you had to destroy everything that upset you within the immediate vicinity without thought or remorse, that this is when one's true power comes out. It was true that Sanji had been feeling depressed lately, the ache of loneliness in his heart only mildly quelled by the company of acquaintances and short-term friends at the party that Primrose Uchiha had invited him to. It seemed in that moment when his body felt like it would give out from the effort he was putting forth, sheer will and seeming hatred, intent to kill whatever was unfortunate enough to walk in front of his fists at that time, that he had uncovered something within. An animalistic urge to destroy. The thought intrigued him and scared him, adding in all sorts of negative thoughts that seemed to invade his mind. What if he lost his temper like that with a friend and used more force than was necessary to address the situation, and ending up killing him/her? Would it darken his heart to a level as of yet unseen? Feelings of inadequacy, loneliness, anger, depression, and hate had seemingly coiled themselves up like a spring and something in that moment had unleashed it. He wasn't certain he could recreate it on command, and right now he wasn't even going to try, fearful of what might happen. All he knew from that moment, that in that moment, he felt no pain, he felt no fatigue, and he felt no mercy. He only felt the force of his punches, unimaginable rage, and the desire to make those punches powerful enough that they would solve any problem he had. A fool's thinking, maybe.

After that display of sudden blind rage, recklessly assaulting first the rock and then the air that remained where the rock was, he felt very tired, and his muscles twitched. Every pant was interspersed with a slight groan of pain. It even hurt to breathe right now. He wasn't sure he could continue training, and it definitely seemed like he shouldn't, whatever the case may be. Sanji slowly stood up, everything seemed to be working right, just aching like he had done twice the amount of training he had ever done in his cumulative career. Still, his body worked and that was good enough for him. Slowly Sanji trudged off the training ground, still thinking hard about what had transpired in that short moment.

[ Total word count: 6251 ]

Approved +31 Stats +62 Jp.