Recovery [Private]

He ran.

He had never been much of a runner to start with, but now he ran. Every fiber of his thighs and calves muscles protested against this exercise, his lungs were burning as when he had drunk sake for the first time. Yet, he recognized he could no longer ignore the signs of distress his body so urgently sent him. Lack of energy, difficulties sleeping, mood swings, irritability, surges of unholy anger… his parents would have been disappointed, and his uncle would’ve been extremely sad. All of them would’ve kicked his ass over it though, and he decided he would do that in their stead. First, came running.

Later on, he would move on to the weight section. Now, lad, easy does it. Small weights to begin with, stretch out the muscles, let them know the place they are to occupy underneath that pale skin. Rather than trying any heroics, he settled for the lower weights and precise, deliberate motions. Trying to show off would just get him injured, and what use would he be to his village, to his kage, to his blood brother, if he on top of being weak, was an injured weakling? Easy does it. Slow and steady wins the race.

Eventually, he began experimenting with calisthenics, using his skim body weight to strain his musculature. Pullups, chinups. Squats. Jumping jacks. Situps. The list went on. By the time he was done, his entire attire was covered in sweat, cold in comparison with how he felt. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick after this.