Training in the Caves (private)

Kidan hated waiting. Class just wasn’t up to his level of energy, and he found himself growing bored, just sitting around and waiting. He wanted to be the life of the party, yet he was only a small and insignificant Academy Student. Worse than that, he had no jutsu to his name. He was no better than he had been when he came to the village, and that was a fact that he could not live with any longer. Even if he didn’t know a single jutsu, he could still train physically, building up speed, strength and stamina. With this in mind he had come to the caves near Sunagakure.
                He knew that the caves would be relatively secluded, and it made him feel safe to be in an enclosed space where he could not be watched without him knowing. He was still self-conscious about his abilities so he did not want others to witness his lackluster skills until he had trained himself for a while. He breathed in and out, calming himself down before he began the relentless assault against his own body. He had read somewhere that it was important to stretch and focus your mind before beginning difficult training, and he wanted to make sure he did not injure himself. He figured he would work on stamina today, and that would require a large amount of effort from his muscles.
                He began by stretching his arms, pulling them behind his back and head and feeling the muscles loosen up. Then he moved to his back, twisting it and then bending forward. Finally he sat down and stretched his legs, limbering up his body and preparing it for the set of exercises he had planned. He jumped to his feet and ran through his exercise list mentally, remembering what came first. As soon as he was ready he marked off several rock formations and began to preform suicide runs. He made it to the closest rock before turning and sprinting back to the start. Then he sprinted to the rock just beyond the first and sprinted back, continuing this pattern for 10 rocks down and then began to repeat the run, starting with the farthest rock and each time running to one that was a little bit closer than the previous until he was back to where he started.
                Sweat was already pouring from his face and running down his back, and his breathing was a bit ragged, however he refused to quit. He wiped off his face and began the pattern again. He could feel his blood pumping in his body, coursing to his limbs as his heart pounded. He finished another set and was about to start a third when his legs began to tremble and his vision dimmed. He may have been a farmer kid, but none of that work seemed to have prepared him for the rigorous needs of a shinobi. If he wasn’t able to keep running for a long time, then how could he expect to keep up in the heat of combat if it lasted longer than 3 minutes? He felt pathetic about it, but he knew he had to stop and take a break. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small gourd he was using to carry water and downed the water in 5 gulps.
                He realized that he would have to collect more water if he wanted to keep training without running the risk of passing out from dehydration and rotting in the dank and dark cave. He looked around and decided to walk a little bit further into the cave and see if he noticed a spring he could harvest water from. It was odd that in a such a dry area, water seemed to be plentiful just below the surface. Kidan knew that there had to be some metaphorical significance to that thought, but right now he didn’t really have the energy for such deep thought. It was getting darker and darker the further he went, however, before it became too dark he began to hear a small trickle of water up ahead and noticed some water flowing from a small opening in the wall. He pulled out his gourd and filled it again, marking the location of the water in his mind for further use. As soon as his gourd was full he turned and made his wake back through the darkness to his training area and set the gourd down back in his satchel before preparing his second exercise.
                He began by spreading his legs so that they were slightly farther apart than his shoulders and brought his arms out in front of him. He breathed deeply and eased himself into a squatting position so that his legs were bent at 90 degree angles and then began to punch the air in front of him with deliberate straight arm jabs. The pattern repeated; left, right, left, right, left, right for a solid 10 minutes. By 5 minutes Kidan was acutely aware of the burning in his legs starting to increase, and by 8 minutes the burning was similar to a raging inferno and his arms had begun to tire from the constant punching. However he was determined to reach ten minutes before stopping for a quick rest. At ten minutes, he collapsed into a sweating pile of jelly. For someone who had been active his whole life, he was wondering how he seemed to be so weak after just a couple hours of training.
                He slowly rose to his feet and walked over to the satchel again, pulling out the gourd and making sure to only drink a little bit of the water so he would not have to make the trip through the darkness of the cave in order to get more water. He did not want to waste much more time because he wanted to get stronger within a short time frame. Plus, getting water was boring compared to the exhausting training he was putting himself through. He loved the strain and the fact that he was not stuck, sitting through some boring classroom. He knew that what he learned in class was invaluable but he also knew that he would only get stronger with physical work.
                He bent back down again and began his second set of 10 minutes. As he punched the air in front of him, his mind began to wander back to the night his father had told him about his actual clan, his family. Before that night, he did not know of the Senju clan, or what power they were known for. Kidan only saw himself and his father as people who were great with plants, and seemed to have an amazingly green thumb. He knew that his father’s ability to grow crops no matter the conditions was something special, but he did not understand exactly how special he was. According to his father, they were from a long line of shinobi warriors who used to be known and feared across the world for their strength in battle. There had been many famously strong Senju clan members, that had influenced the past.
                He then went on to explain what made their clan truly unique, the ability to control the element Moukoton, otherwise known as wood. They could bend plants to their will, and cause trees to spring up out of any surfact. They could cause would to come out of their own bodies to be used in attack and defense. All of these powers seemed extraordinary to young Kidan, who had never even knew he had such potential hidden in his blood, in his very DNA. His father had then given him a warning. “People will try to use you for your inner strength, but you must not let them. Do not lose light of who you are and never compromise your morals for anything. You will be surrounded by people who will claim to be your allies, and most of them will be, but please don’t allow yourself to be deceived. The first rule I learned as a shinobi was to see through deception. Never forget that!”
                Kidan never would forget that, even after he left the safety of his home in the country to join this dangerous world of the ninja. He gradually brought his mind back to his current training. As soon as he did he realized his legs were in excruciating pain and that he had been squatting and punching for well over 10 minutes. He collapsed on the ground and sat there for a while, spread eagle on the cave floor. He was vaguely aware that he was panting from exhaustion, and that his vision was back to being blurry. Also, he had the strange feeling of cotton in his mouth as he had drunk enough in between exercises. He crawled over to his satchel, and once again drained the water from his gourd before setting it back in the bag and slumping over, succumbing to exhaustion. He sat in that position, stating at the ground directly in front of him for an unknown time before finally getting the strength back in his limbs to support his weight. He pulled himself to his feet and picked up his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder.
                He glanced around the area he had used to train and made the decision to mark it in case he ever had to come back for some personal training again. He took a dark rock from the ground that he recognized as natural occurring coal and used it to mark the wall. He stared at the wall for a bit, deciding which mark he should use that he would never forget and that would differ from any other marks he may see. He finally decided on the one mark that recently became much more important. He decided to use the mark on the back of his jacket, the mark of the Senju clan. He finished the sketch on the wall and set the coal down on the ground before following the path back to the cave entrance he had used. He could tell he was going the right way because the air was beginning to smell fresher, less moldy. The smell of dry air rose into his nostrils and made Kidan acutely aware of the stench of mildew that penetrated his jacket and bag. He made a note to clean his clothing in order to remove the stench.

                As he entered the sun he felt it burn into the back of his skull through his eyes and it was both glorious and painful after being in the dark cave for an extended period of time. He pulled his scarf up over his moth to protect his lips from chapping in the suddenly dry atmosphere. The desert was still something he was not used to, and probably would not be for a long time. He pined for the day when he finally would be able to go on missions to places where the ground was not sand and trees were everywhere. He didn’t mind being in a new area, but he did miss his home now and then, and now that he was mentally and physically exhausted, his mind seemed to be stuck on the memories of his old home. His mother’s smile, his father’s dedication to the garden, the smell of pine needles on the floor and the coolness of the forests shade; these memories flooded through his mind as he stared at the sand around him. Now he was sore, tired, and stuck in the desert not wanting to make the trek back to the village, but knowing he must not be late for classes the following day, so he had to get back for bed. Also, his stomach was making all conceivable noises that meant it was close to food time. So with heavy limbs, he began the long walk back to the village.

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2000 words

Approved!
+20JP
+10 Stats