Post by Kazuki Akimoto on Aug 16, 2008 4:41:58 GMT 1
Sweat ran down his brow, soaking his face and spraying with every consecutive movement he made. The shirt he wore clung to his torso, dark patches present on almost every part of it, and even though his body was tired and aching, he showed no sign of slowing.
Kazuki, after weeks of rehabilitation from his injury, had ventured off by himself twenty-three days ago, packing a few 'essentials' and hopping into his car. Driving north, he'd left behind San Francisco and found a small town a few hours away, chosen specifically for its location in the middle of nowhere. There was no major city for at least two hours drive in any direction, and a large area of uninhabited grassland with a small lake. He'd spotted it by chance, admittedly, unsure of exactly where he intended to stop, but had found it suited his means.
He intended to train alone, as he had in the past, to break past the cap put upon himself as a result of his injuries. It was not something he would willingly tolerate any longer, and he knew he could only accomplish so much with people hanging over his shoulder or even in the confines of a gym.
It was time to go back to basics.
Thus, here he was, on the verge of a small cluster of trees that provided ample shade from the beating sun. From sunrise to sunset, for twenty-three days straight so far, he had risen and devoted himself to the sole purpose of punishing his body to the point of exhaustion. His knuckles were loosely bandaged from the cuts and welts that had eventually opened up from sessions punching against trees and boulders, but he showed no restraint. Even now, as he stood in front of the large oak, his hands slammed back and forth with a rigorous pace into the bark of the aged wood, the rhythm interjected periodically as he shot out an elbow or a kick to break the repetition.
Still, even now he could feel his body burning under the strain. As 'basic' as this training would be, he had made one single alteration to increase the intensity. Strapped to his arms and legs were what appeared to be sleeves, maybe an inch thick. Each of these was lined with lead, weighing him down by a further eighty pounds; twenty per limb. From the tips of his fingers through to the very core, his muscles screamed in protest, but no leeway was shown. He'd been at it for close to ninety minutes, his arms like lead from the repetitive actions, and he counted off in his head as he kept at his session.
'Sixty-two more, then that'll be five thousand...'
A little way away, closer to the water but still on the grass-edged section of the clearing by the water, a pair of bags sat inconspicuously. Well, one bag, anyway. The other was a simple camp-mat he'd picked up for a few dollars in the town, allowing himself a little comfort in the brief spells of rest. They'd sat there pretty much since he'd arrived, and would continue to do so. This was his own universe, right here, and nothing outside of this small space of backwoods existed to him. The nearest road was about five miles away, give or take, so the odds of anyone finding him were close to zero...
As he counted down, the last few strikes were dealt with even more ferocity than before, intent on giving it all he could right until the last moment. With the last blow, his body shook at the force it struck the tree, the immovable organism standing in defiance against his efforts, the only sign of his attacks where the bark had been knocked almost completely free, leaving a surprisingly smooth layer of actual wood in its place. Lowering his arms, finally, the action taking as much effort as it had to keep them raised, he took a few slow steps away from the tree and stumbled on his feet trying to sit down, falling to the ground. Catching himself, though with no small amount of pain in his arms from the effort, he groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, tucking his legs under himself as he caught back his breath.
Picking up a bottle of water that sat beside him, he unscrewed the cap and swigged from it thirstily, pouring a little of the water over his head to rinse the salt from his skin. After that, he simply sat, looking out at the small lake in silence for a few minutes before sighing, and slowly getting back to his feet. Pacing back to the tree, he sat back down, unfastening the weights at his feet and settling them in his midsection before hooking under a protruding root and setting into a swift, steady pace of sit-ups.
'1000...999.....998....'
~Day Twenty-Four~
Waking from the ring of his cellphone, solely used for the alarm feature present with all his calls diverted away, he sat up blearily. Groaning at the ache in his body, he pushed himself up and slipped off the clothing he'd slept in, padding over to the water before tossing himself into it. Icy cold, it shocked him awake in an instant and his body suddenly snapped to alertness, the scream in his muscles at aching pain now more concerned about the freezing water that engulfed him. After a few moments in the water, he pulled himself up and onto the land again, shaking off the worst of it before pulling on some of the clothing and the weights again, leaving himself mostly bare to let the sun dry him. Fishing through the bag, he pulled out a smaller bag with some bread and fruit in it. Sitting down on the warming earth, he ate in silence for a few minutes before getting to his feet.
"Alright, sixteen days to go...."
Speaking to himself more than anything, he rummaged through the holdall before pulling out a short length of rope, smirking a moment at the foresight at stopping at that store beforehand. Slinging the spun twine over his shoulder, he approached the tree he'd used yesterday before hopping off his feet, grabbing onto a branch just out of reach and hanging from it a moment. Once certain it would fully take his weight, he dropped down and slung the rope over it, fastening a loop knot and pulling the rope through, tying it to the branch. Spinning the other end around his arm a few times to keep it in place, he hopped up again to bring himself fully off the ground, folding his knees back before he lowered himself slowly, groaning at the protest in his limbs as he set into single-arm pull-ups. Counting off in his head between the other thoughts that kept flashing through his mind.
'I was once one of the best, and I can accept that people will surpass me, but I will not be overtaken because of things I can change. I will be stronger than I am, I -have- to be.'
Kiras face came to him at that thought, along with the others around him in his life. He was doing this for himself, no doubt, but also for them. He had faith in every single one of them, but knew that if he was put in the position to protect them, he would need to regain his absolute maximum. Lastly, Adam came to mind, and a short smirk appeared on his lips despite the steely determination in his eyes.
'And you'll get a surprise when I leave you in the dust...'
Damned right, he intended to beat Adam next time they fought. He would always acknowledge the win that the larger fighter had earned, but it didn't mean he was about to accept it as the solid law of the land....
Just over fifty of the pull-ups done, he counted them off as he aimed for his target, an even five hundred. After that, he'd run for a few hours through the sparse woodland, return to get some food and rest for an hour, then pick up again with some more drills...Optimistic though he might be being, he was confident that this month of brutality would break past his previous threshold and wake his body back up.
'Either that, or it'll cripple me....'
The thought was morbid and in poor taste, but he grinned at it all the same. No, he wouldn't be beaten, not least by his body, the one thing he should be able to have under control. It was his, and he would tell it what it would do, not the other way around...
~Day Twenty-Six~
Once again, he stood with the sweat flowing from his skin with reckless abandon. The difference, however, was that there was no tree. Instead, he stood in the open grass, his body hindered by the further addition of what would have looked at first appearances to be a Kevlar vest. Like the 'sleeves', however, this was lined with lead to add a further fifty pounds of weight to his load. Now, with nearly double his body weight to support, he systematically went through every set of movements he remembered from his original training with his grandfather. The simple, fluid steps that he took so much for granted now felt like mammoth efforts to make accurately, and with every mistake he forced himself to redo the entire thing. For nearly two hours, he'd managed to execute only three of the set pieces he intended to do. There was another five he had in mind.
It didn't matter. Nothing would make him stop. Not the muscles that cried in agony at their punishment, not his brain frantically trying to tell him that this wasn't natural, nor the logic that reminded him that he might be overdoing it...He was set in this, and his adrenaline had skyrocketed. The pain had become nothing but a nuisance to him, now. Executing a particularly complicated series of steps, his feet came down with a thud against the earth under him, a little of the dust disturbed by the sudden drop of weight onto it as the determined males eyes made no signs of wavering.
He knew it was crazy, but he also knew that everything was for one single reason. He had never been built for sheer power, but his speed was nearly unrivaled.
It was time to make it completely so.
The hours ticked by as he began to push harder against the weight hanging onto him, and though his body got more and more tired, he began to accustom somewhat to the additional bulk that hindered his movements, setting into his movements with a little more confidence and finesse. There was little grace in comparison to his normal level of skill, but carrying nearly double his body weight he was willing to make a couple of concessions. Eventually, he managed to complete the last of the patterns and let himself drop down into a sitting position.
Though the weights would remain on for the time being, he would do no more. He had three more days here, and one final thing to be done.
~Day Twenty-Seven~[/i]
Waking when the sun finally roused him, opting against the alarm this morning, he pushed himself off the mat and rose fully to his feet. Immediately, he began to shed the weights that he'd kept on overnight and let them drop to the ground around him, hitting the dirt with dull sounds as he finally pulled off the weighted jacket, dropping it with a suitable apt dent being made into the ground. Hopping on his feet, he noted the difference to how he'd felt with the weights on him. Turning to the water, a smile on his face, he took a few quick strides toward the water and leaped into it, soaking up the coolness as it soaked over his skin and washed away the dried sweat that clung to him. He allowed himself a few minutes to languish in the cold water before pulling himself out again, rolling onto the bank of grass and flat on his back, arms folding behind his head.
For nearly four straight weeks, his body had been punished in the most grueling manner possible, and though he wanted to see the results immediately, he knew that his muscles would need at least another day of rest before he could see any accurate improvements. Not only that, he was still mentally exhausted from the ordeal. It had taken more out of him than he'd thought to keep going, and now he just wanted to be still.
Of course, his body would rest, but his mind wasn't quite ready to stop just yet.
~The First Day~
Attaching the weights had hardly been an arduous task, at just about twenty pounds each, they were light enough to lift-one handed with no problem. However, with all four strapped into place, the added weight suddenly felt much more noticeable, though tolerable at first. Knowing that he would remain bound by these for a month, Kazuki sighed quietly to himself and turned from his bags, setting off at a slow, heavy jog.
'Best get started now.'
Within ten minutes, his breath was ragged and his body terse at the unnatural amount of strain being added to it, but his feet continued to move, carrying him through the light woodland in a rough loop of the area. The path he'd taken was close to two miles in a lap, and after one, he was on his knees, barely able to get himself to move, let alone onto his feet. Forcing himself to get back to where he'd made camp, he slumped onto his back, sucking at air deeply to fill his burning lungs as he contemplated the reality of his current situation. He'd set himself this task and as such, had no intention of backing out of it.
Problem was actually being physically capable of getting through it.
'Fuck that. I'm doing this.'
Though his legs were tired, the rest of him was still fairly capable. Flipping over, he stooped into a push-up position and began to do the motions, a stammer in his arms at each rise with the added weight. Still, silently, he continued. Every action bringing a laboured grunt from him as he fought against the resistance his body put up.
'Twenty-nine days to go. Gotta get better....'
He grinned at the thought, remembering how different it felt yesterday to how it had the first day. The weights had still felt heavy to him, but he'd grown slightly accustomed to them after a while. That initial day, though, it had been crushing. He'd passed out a good couple of hours before nightfall, his body giving up and demanding respite. Yesterday, he'd been able to work for the entire period of daylight without feeling that tired.
Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off. His body deserved the rest, after all. Laid out in the sunshine, minutes turned to hours, turned to night, and he lost track of time as his aching muscles soaked up the heat and gradually regained their strength...
~Day Thirty~
Three days since the weights had come off, and he woke early and fresher than he had at any point since coming out here. He was rested, no longer sore from the previous twenty-nine days. He was almost eager to train without the weights on him, and as such was off the ground and finished his morning dip in the space of a few minutes.
At first he didn't notice any difference. His punches felt a little quicker, but he attributed everything to the weights being off his arms and as such speeding them up a bit. Still, unlike before, he'd barely begun to break a sweat even a half-hour into his routine. It was a slow realisation, but as it dawned upon him, he began to test something out. Pushing harder, he threw the punches with faster repetitions, the blows flying out like a swift rhythm of dull cracks against the wood. Still, nothing. His body was barely acknowledging the work, almost egging him on to test it further.
Eventually, after two hours, he stopped out of boredom more than anything else. His arms were still fairly comfortable, a light mist of sweat had crept up on him, but his breath was even and steady in its pace.
'I wonder...'
Turning sharply on his heels, he slammed his fist into the tree with one last, heavy punch, a bark of sound escaping his lips as he exhaled deeply into the swing. The speed the limb flew toward it with was staggering to him, and when he actually struck the timber his body shook a moment before he took a short step back, looking at the handiwork.
"You've got to be shitting me...."
That last punch had caused a long, deep crack to emerge in the wood, though in all fairness he'd certainly done enough to weaken the structural integrity of it thus far. Regardless, the crack was there, and a short grin crept onto his face. Balling his fists, he resisted that all-too-familiar masculine urge to destroy something at the discovery of his handiwork, instead turning away and pacing into the clearing. He could feel it now, that was for sure. The lightness in his body. Every step he felt that if he hopped up into the air, he'd end up about ten feet off the ground.
Sure, a lot of it was down to the weights being off of his body, but he knew he'd improved greatly from before. He felt unbelievable, and in the tournament approaching, he would get the chance to test that out fully against live targets. A week away, however, he would have time to prepare for it.
By prepare, of course, he meant 'convince Kira to let him compete'. As it was, he was likely to face some serious wrath when he got back. He was just counting on the gigantic leap in his capability playing a little in his favour. For all his doubts, even without actually testing out the fruits of his labours, just looking at himself he could see the difference. His body was honed to a point he'd not been in for a good few years now, every muscle corded and powerful, and though he couldn't see his face, a new resolve had crept into him.
'I'll see you in the tournament, Adam...'
Kazuki, after weeks of rehabilitation from his injury, had ventured off by himself twenty-three days ago, packing a few 'essentials' and hopping into his car. Driving north, he'd left behind San Francisco and found a small town a few hours away, chosen specifically for its location in the middle of nowhere. There was no major city for at least two hours drive in any direction, and a large area of uninhabited grassland with a small lake. He'd spotted it by chance, admittedly, unsure of exactly where he intended to stop, but had found it suited his means.
He intended to train alone, as he had in the past, to break past the cap put upon himself as a result of his injuries. It was not something he would willingly tolerate any longer, and he knew he could only accomplish so much with people hanging over his shoulder or even in the confines of a gym.
It was time to go back to basics.
Thus, here he was, on the verge of a small cluster of trees that provided ample shade from the beating sun. From sunrise to sunset, for twenty-three days straight so far, he had risen and devoted himself to the sole purpose of punishing his body to the point of exhaustion. His knuckles were loosely bandaged from the cuts and welts that had eventually opened up from sessions punching against trees and boulders, but he showed no restraint. Even now, as he stood in front of the large oak, his hands slammed back and forth with a rigorous pace into the bark of the aged wood, the rhythm interjected periodically as he shot out an elbow or a kick to break the repetition.
Still, even now he could feel his body burning under the strain. As 'basic' as this training would be, he had made one single alteration to increase the intensity. Strapped to his arms and legs were what appeared to be sleeves, maybe an inch thick. Each of these was lined with lead, weighing him down by a further eighty pounds; twenty per limb. From the tips of his fingers through to the very core, his muscles screamed in protest, but no leeway was shown. He'd been at it for close to ninety minutes, his arms like lead from the repetitive actions, and he counted off in his head as he kept at his session.
'Sixty-two more, then that'll be five thousand...'
A little way away, closer to the water but still on the grass-edged section of the clearing by the water, a pair of bags sat inconspicuously. Well, one bag, anyway. The other was a simple camp-mat he'd picked up for a few dollars in the town, allowing himself a little comfort in the brief spells of rest. They'd sat there pretty much since he'd arrived, and would continue to do so. This was his own universe, right here, and nothing outside of this small space of backwoods existed to him. The nearest road was about five miles away, give or take, so the odds of anyone finding him were close to zero...
As he counted down, the last few strikes were dealt with even more ferocity than before, intent on giving it all he could right until the last moment. With the last blow, his body shook at the force it struck the tree, the immovable organism standing in defiance against his efforts, the only sign of his attacks where the bark had been knocked almost completely free, leaving a surprisingly smooth layer of actual wood in its place. Lowering his arms, finally, the action taking as much effort as it had to keep them raised, he took a few slow steps away from the tree and stumbled on his feet trying to sit down, falling to the ground. Catching himself, though with no small amount of pain in his arms from the effort, he groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, tucking his legs under himself as he caught back his breath.
Picking up a bottle of water that sat beside him, he unscrewed the cap and swigged from it thirstily, pouring a little of the water over his head to rinse the salt from his skin. After that, he simply sat, looking out at the small lake in silence for a few minutes before sighing, and slowly getting back to his feet. Pacing back to the tree, he sat back down, unfastening the weights at his feet and settling them in his midsection before hooking under a protruding root and setting into a swift, steady pace of sit-ups.
'1000...999.....998....'
~Day Twenty-Four~
Waking from the ring of his cellphone, solely used for the alarm feature present with all his calls diverted away, he sat up blearily. Groaning at the ache in his body, he pushed himself up and slipped off the clothing he'd slept in, padding over to the water before tossing himself into it. Icy cold, it shocked him awake in an instant and his body suddenly snapped to alertness, the scream in his muscles at aching pain now more concerned about the freezing water that engulfed him. After a few moments in the water, he pulled himself up and onto the land again, shaking off the worst of it before pulling on some of the clothing and the weights again, leaving himself mostly bare to let the sun dry him. Fishing through the bag, he pulled out a smaller bag with some bread and fruit in it. Sitting down on the warming earth, he ate in silence for a few minutes before getting to his feet.
"Alright, sixteen days to go...."
Speaking to himself more than anything, he rummaged through the holdall before pulling out a short length of rope, smirking a moment at the foresight at stopping at that store beforehand. Slinging the spun twine over his shoulder, he approached the tree he'd used yesterday before hopping off his feet, grabbing onto a branch just out of reach and hanging from it a moment. Once certain it would fully take his weight, he dropped down and slung the rope over it, fastening a loop knot and pulling the rope through, tying it to the branch. Spinning the other end around his arm a few times to keep it in place, he hopped up again to bring himself fully off the ground, folding his knees back before he lowered himself slowly, groaning at the protest in his limbs as he set into single-arm pull-ups. Counting off in his head between the other thoughts that kept flashing through his mind.
'I was once one of the best, and I can accept that people will surpass me, but I will not be overtaken because of things I can change. I will be stronger than I am, I -have- to be.'
Kiras face came to him at that thought, along with the others around him in his life. He was doing this for himself, no doubt, but also for them. He had faith in every single one of them, but knew that if he was put in the position to protect them, he would need to regain his absolute maximum. Lastly, Adam came to mind, and a short smirk appeared on his lips despite the steely determination in his eyes.
'And you'll get a surprise when I leave you in the dust...'
Damned right, he intended to beat Adam next time they fought. He would always acknowledge the win that the larger fighter had earned, but it didn't mean he was about to accept it as the solid law of the land....
Just over fifty of the pull-ups done, he counted them off as he aimed for his target, an even five hundred. After that, he'd run for a few hours through the sparse woodland, return to get some food and rest for an hour, then pick up again with some more drills...Optimistic though he might be being, he was confident that this month of brutality would break past his previous threshold and wake his body back up.
'Either that, or it'll cripple me....'
The thought was morbid and in poor taste, but he grinned at it all the same. No, he wouldn't be beaten, not least by his body, the one thing he should be able to have under control. It was his, and he would tell it what it would do, not the other way around...
~Day Twenty-Six~
Once again, he stood with the sweat flowing from his skin with reckless abandon. The difference, however, was that there was no tree. Instead, he stood in the open grass, his body hindered by the further addition of what would have looked at first appearances to be a Kevlar vest. Like the 'sleeves', however, this was lined with lead to add a further fifty pounds of weight to his load. Now, with nearly double his body weight to support, he systematically went through every set of movements he remembered from his original training with his grandfather. The simple, fluid steps that he took so much for granted now felt like mammoth efforts to make accurately, and with every mistake he forced himself to redo the entire thing. For nearly two hours, he'd managed to execute only three of the set pieces he intended to do. There was another five he had in mind.
It didn't matter. Nothing would make him stop. Not the muscles that cried in agony at their punishment, not his brain frantically trying to tell him that this wasn't natural, nor the logic that reminded him that he might be overdoing it...He was set in this, and his adrenaline had skyrocketed. The pain had become nothing but a nuisance to him, now. Executing a particularly complicated series of steps, his feet came down with a thud against the earth under him, a little of the dust disturbed by the sudden drop of weight onto it as the determined males eyes made no signs of wavering.
He knew it was crazy, but he also knew that everything was for one single reason. He had never been built for sheer power, but his speed was nearly unrivaled.
It was time to make it completely so.
The hours ticked by as he began to push harder against the weight hanging onto him, and though his body got more and more tired, he began to accustom somewhat to the additional bulk that hindered his movements, setting into his movements with a little more confidence and finesse. There was little grace in comparison to his normal level of skill, but carrying nearly double his body weight he was willing to make a couple of concessions. Eventually, he managed to complete the last of the patterns and let himself drop down into a sitting position.
Though the weights would remain on for the time being, he would do no more. He had three more days here, and one final thing to be done.
~Day Twenty-Seven~[/i]
Waking when the sun finally roused him, opting against the alarm this morning, he pushed himself off the mat and rose fully to his feet. Immediately, he began to shed the weights that he'd kept on overnight and let them drop to the ground around him, hitting the dirt with dull sounds as he finally pulled off the weighted jacket, dropping it with a suitable apt dent being made into the ground. Hopping on his feet, he noted the difference to how he'd felt with the weights on him. Turning to the water, a smile on his face, he took a few quick strides toward the water and leaped into it, soaking up the coolness as it soaked over his skin and washed away the dried sweat that clung to him. He allowed himself a few minutes to languish in the cold water before pulling himself out again, rolling onto the bank of grass and flat on his back, arms folding behind his head.
For nearly four straight weeks, his body had been punished in the most grueling manner possible, and though he wanted to see the results immediately, he knew that his muscles would need at least another day of rest before he could see any accurate improvements. Not only that, he was still mentally exhausted from the ordeal. It had taken more out of him than he'd thought to keep going, and now he just wanted to be still.
Of course, his body would rest, but his mind wasn't quite ready to stop just yet.
~The First Day~
Attaching the weights had hardly been an arduous task, at just about twenty pounds each, they were light enough to lift-one handed with no problem. However, with all four strapped into place, the added weight suddenly felt much more noticeable, though tolerable at first. Knowing that he would remain bound by these for a month, Kazuki sighed quietly to himself and turned from his bags, setting off at a slow, heavy jog.
'Best get started now.'
Within ten minutes, his breath was ragged and his body terse at the unnatural amount of strain being added to it, but his feet continued to move, carrying him through the light woodland in a rough loop of the area. The path he'd taken was close to two miles in a lap, and after one, he was on his knees, barely able to get himself to move, let alone onto his feet. Forcing himself to get back to where he'd made camp, he slumped onto his back, sucking at air deeply to fill his burning lungs as he contemplated the reality of his current situation. He'd set himself this task and as such, had no intention of backing out of it.
Problem was actually being physically capable of getting through it.
'Fuck that. I'm doing this.'
Though his legs were tired, the rest of him was still fairly capable. Flipping over, he stooped into a push-up position and began to do the motions, a stammer in his arms at each rise with the added weight. Still, silently, he continued. Every action bringing a laboured grunt from him as he fought against the resistance his body put up.
'Twenty-nine days to go. Gotta get better....'
He grinned at the thought, remembering how different it felt yesterday to how it had the first day. The weights had still felt heavy to him, but he'd grown slightly accustomed to them after a while. That initial day, though, it had been crushing. He'd passed out a good couple of hours before nightfall, his body giving up and demanding respite. Yesterday, he'd been able to work for the entire period of daylight without feeling that tired.
Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off. His body deserved the rest, after all. Laid out in the sunshine, minutes turned to hours, turned to night, and he lost track of time as his aching muscles soaked up the heat and gradually regained their strength...
~Day Thirty~
Three days since the weights had come off, and he woke early and fresher than he had at any point since coming out here. He was rested, no longer sore from the previous twenty-nine days. He was almost eager to train without the weights on him, and as such was off the ground and finished his morning dip in the space of a few minutes.
At first he didn't notice any difference. His punches felt a little quicker, but he attributed everything to the weights being off his arms and as such speeding them up a bit. Still, unlike before, he'd barely begun to break a sweat even a half-hour into his routine. It was a slow realisation, but as it dawned upon him, he began to test something out. Pushing harder, he threw the punches with faster repetitions, the blows flying out like a swift rhythm of dull cracks against the wood. Still, nothing. His body was barely acknowledging the work, almost egging him on to test it further.
Eventually, after two hours, he stopped out of boredom more than anything else. His arms were still fairly comfortable, a light mist of sweat had crept up on him, but his breath was even and steady in its pace.
'I wonder...'
Turning sharply on his heels, he slammed his fist into the tree with one last, heavy punch, a bark of sound escaping his lips as he exhaled deeply into the swing. The speed the limb flew toward it with was staggering to him, and when he actually struck the timber his body shook a moment before he took a short step back, looking at the handiwork.
"You've got to be shitting me...."
That last punch had caused a long, deep crack to emerge in the wood, though in all fairness he'd certainly done enough to weaken the structural integrity of it thus far. Regardless, the crack was there, and a short grin crept onto his face. Balling his fists, he resisted that all-too-familiar masculine urge to destroy something at the discovery of his handiwork, instead turning away and pacing into the clearing. He could feel it now, that was for sure. The lightness in his body. Every step he felt that if he hopped up into the air, he'd end up about ten feet off the ground.
Sure, a lot of it was down to the weights being off of his body, but he knew he'd improved greatly from before. He felt unbelievable, and in the tournament approaching, he would get the chance to test that out fully against live targets. A week away, however, he would have time to prepare for it.
By prepare, of course, he meant 'convince Kira to let him compete'. As it was, he was likely to face some serious wrath when he got back. He was just counting on the gigantic leap in his capability playing a little in his favour. For all his doubts, even without actually testing out the fruits of his labours, just looking at himself he could see the difference. His body was honed to a point he'd not been in for a good few years now, every muscle corded and powerful, and though he couldn't see his face, a new resolve had crept into him.
'I'll see you in the tournament, Adam...'