[Honō Kojirou]

It was getting a bit colder outside. The hissing winds were a sign that the climate was lowering its heat, and that staying outside for too long could send chills down your spine. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however, because in this world of ever-flowing chakra, one could hone themselves to withstand the elements around oneself. Life for a seasoned shinobi was a test of endurance, so something as trivial as a cold wind could never make them shiver. They had cast aside their pain receptors in a metaphysical fashion, deciding to ignore the discomfort at all times and to weld oneself into a sword that never bothered swinging through the air and cutting the particles apart, even with cracks running down its old steel. One who drew blood at a regular interval could never complain about the cold winds around oneself… eternally rid of weakness for the elements.

The winds were growing colder and colder, but they were about to heat up again – very, very soon, Kojirou would exit his house and aim for the grassy fields that reached up to his kneecaps, for there he honed himself. He was a blade of grass, and the training grounds were his hammer and anvil.

WC: 202

[Honō Kojirou]

Kojirou had already readied himself – no longer was he wearing his dark-red haori or any of his traditional outfits. He was wearing his Kusanin-style leggings to cover his abdomen and legs, and… nothing more. If anything, his flinging washi paper earrings stuck out way more without the red haori to complement them. It had gotten typical of him to train barefoot and exposing his torso like this, for the harsh winds outside invited only those who were willing to weld themselves harshly. Not to mention… once he opened the gate to walk out, he felt the gazes of his parents behind him. They were proud of their little Grasshopper, for he had gotten serious about his training lately. A shinobi’s life was always honed to the edge.

From now on and until he reached the grassy fields that coated the contour of Kusagakure, the sound of grass stepped down on by the Grasshopper’s vigilant feet was ever deafened by the howling winds. Today, by a quick glance upwards, it was foreboded that dark weather would block out the sun and become a blanket over the village, while Kojirou marched ahead ever focused with two blades strapped tightly to each hip.

WC: 200

[Honō Kojirou]

Lava Release was a great gift, but in all honesty, Kojirou would always favor the art of the blade just a tiny bit more? Henceforth, he drew the blade from his left hip in a quick, swift and unseen unsheathing that paid tribute to the art of Iaido, a habit that he had grown over the time of his as a seasoned, young swordsman. As a matter of fact, he already knew what he wanted to test out first… and his preying eyes would dart over to the unaware tree log that stood ready for shinobi in training.

The art of concentrating chakra in his body was honed to the point where he was able to release bursts of it from his feet. That was a result of mastering the art of walking on other surfaces and on water… but today, it helped him dash forward in high speed unlikely for untrained rookies to replicate. His blade was sheathed again… and just as he was in front of the log, he had to unleash a heavy force through the pommel of his blade, slapping it into the log and causing splinters to fly out. That was the first little attack…

WC: 200

[Honō Kojirou]

The log had splintered up quite a bit due to the force of his pommel strike. It was to expect, given that Kojirou had started out with all of his energy intact. He wasn’t exhausted or taxed from previous training… but he had to hurry! If the log was an enemy, then he would have a window’s opportunity to follow up with a second attack. Most shinobi that he had met wouldn’t go down to a mere pommel strike, and the duty of theirs invited lethality. Therefore, the art of Iaido kicked in as a ray of ingeniousness, guaranteeing him a second hit – surely, if the log was an enemy, then the timespan where they would have been stunned by the pommel strike would have been enough to ensure the connection of a blinding Iaido!

Before Kojirou’s brain even registered the event, the tree log was… cut in two. It was a beautiful, diagonal slice with splintered fracture in the middle from his pommel strike. This combo-Kenjutsu held potential… but a live enemy, an animate enemy, would definitely have ways to block or parry the pommel strike. Kojirou would have to bypass that risk somehow, lest he found himself succumb to its fatal consequences.

WC: 204

[Honō Kojirou]

How was he going to find a way to make himself rest at ease using this combo? One of the three tree logs was destroyed now, but he could always just charge over to the next training place if push came to shove. Then again, he didn’t have anyone around him to spar with… urgh, it made things stall. Then again, as said again, Kojirou was quite honed in Kenjutsu and it showed. Would he be able to rest easy with it? Who knew…?

… No! Remembering back to Kizumi-sama’s help, he remembered that a very core key in his Kenjutsu was lacking! He couldn’t just be satisfied with quick slashes, for he wanted to fully master Kenjin Nōdo – that required him to train his breathing and focus on breathing. He had to concentrate! And to test himself further, the swordsman began holding the pommel of his blade tightly and began running. It was time for some cardio, so that he could learn his body to gather more and more oxygen… and keep on imitating the same breathing technique as he revealed his capability of back with Kizumi-sama. To do that, he’d have to focus – above all of things, focus…

WC: 200

[Honō Kojirou]

With hissing vapors escaping his clenching teeth, Kojirou could feel the veins on his forehead pushing through his skin. He had run a good mile only, but Kenjin Nōdo was no joke... the amount of force and stress on the body that it put was unbelievable. It was a physical technique, so maybe he couldn’t help but compare it to his strongest Jutsu at the moment – ohhhhhhh, wait, wait, wait! He should remember that for later!

For now, though... just keep running, Kojirou! And make sure you breathe the exact same way all the time!

Even though his body demanded more air at some times and less air at other times, he had to keep on breathing the same way... it taxed on him, but that was what training was all about. Now sweat began trickling donw his skin, and that was just the kind of feeling that kept him going – the confirmation that his efforts were bearing fruit, and that he was still being errant. Even though it was miniscule compared to what elder members of his clan went through in order to hone their otherworldly strength, he knew that he was slowly catching up to them. Blessed with Lava Release, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall behind...

WC: 209

[Honō Kojirou]

His breath... began faltering. He had run a little over a mile, and he was pushing up on his limit – it gave him an overview, however, on his capabilities, but he found them unsatisfactory. Maybe it was the Honō blood in him, but he was getting rather worked up all by himself. Maybe he could still push himself even further, but he didn’t want to accidently collapse all by himself! Testing the waters of his endurance using Kenjin Nōdo was deemed alright, after all.

He braked heavily and began catching his breath, feeling like his brain was pulled apart by the sheer focus that he had to put up with. Man, it was no wonder that Kenjin Nōdo was considered such a treasure to master. His parents were right, too; it was probably the most taxing Bukijutsu that he had practiced before. Those limits that his poor, mortal flesh possessed had to be broken in order to master that cool sword style.

Firstly, he had to catch his breath again... but his training wasn’t over just yet, nuh uh! He had just pushed himself once – he wouldn’t go home before he had reached that wall at least 10 times over.

WC: 200

[Honō Kojirou]

Cardio alone wouldn’t push him enough – being a swordsman and a Bukijutsu specialist, he needed to train his arms too. This time, his blade was sheathed completely and held between his legs, while he stood up on his hands and began marching himself forward. Touching the wet, grassy ground was chilling, but hey – at this point, Kojirou wasn’t complaining. Although, he’d still feel his veins clinging out of his skin... and those on his arms were popping up too.

This was good... whenever Kojirou felt like he was being slaughtered by his training – whether if he was training his Ninjutsu or Bukijutsu – he simply made up scenarios in his head to motivate himself. He’d stand there, in the middle of a forest opening with his katanas sheathed in his Tōsōchi, awaiting the ambush of enemies from all around him. They’d jump in like sharp, shadowy knives and demand to cut deep into his flesh, but with a single, overwhelming breath – sharper than hail and harder than diamonds – a single blade would tear through each and every shadow and leave them dissipating into the air…

With that running through his mind, he kept on walking on his hands, not minding the drops of sweat that fell off his face.

WC: 208

[Honō Kojirou]

He had only come one-third of the mile now. Now, while strong, his hands weren’t built for walking on at all times, but they were likely the most important parts of his body that he needed to weld up. Yes… like hammering on them back at the clan, dipping them into the oven and then into a pool of water for cooling down the metal that was their muscles- yup, he had quite a simple fantasy, that little Grasshopper…

He’d take it slowly, hand step by step and cross over the grasses, determined to make it one mile on hands only. Now, one might think; was he going to use chakra to amplify his hands? The answer might’ve surprised you, but… nope. He wasn’t fighting anyone for the time being, and that would also be considered cheating in his eyes. And if an upstanding Honō shinobi like him was caught cheating, then all of his honor as a clan member would flush down the toilet-

Okay, maybe not as fierce as that, but the point was that honor drove Kojirou to be harsher on himself. Oh, thinking about things helped pass time too… he was now halfway. Hurray for him!

WC: 200

[Honō Kojirou]

J-Just a little more… Kojirou was on the ropes, for his arms’ muscles were beginning to give up on him. He was so close, though… if he couldn’t make it, then he’d be so bewildered that he might’ve begun to cry. C’mooooooon, arms, don’t hold back… the plains of Kusagakure were already so flat, and the hills were easy to venture upon, so he had nothing to complain about. He couldn’t make any excuses if he wasn’t able to… a-able to…

Focus! If he could use some of that breathing power right now, then… it was worth trying. As long as he made it back to the destroyed training log, then he wouldn’t mind clocking out on the grass floor. Now, of all times, he began closing out everything around him, still standing atop his tired hands… drawing in breath and rejuvenating his cells with oxygen. He could feel a little strength growing in him, and he used it immediately! His eyes looked reddened, as if they were about to pop out of his skull, but he pushed forward and-

Something in him snapped. He suddenly felt like he was losing breath faster and faster, and his arms… they gave up.

WC: 201

[Honō Kojirou]

He was so close, though… if only he had made it a little further. If only he had gotten a little stronger. Being a shinobi felt like an invitation to these reminders, for they began to circle around the poor Genin’s head like flies. A-At least, he did train intensely, right? He had surely reached and grabbed the fruits, and soon he’d savor the juice of his training… but…

The images that ran through his head. What kind of zone was this? Had he pushed his breathing too far? No, no, no… while worrying about that, his body suddenly began feeling hotter and hotter, until it felt like lava was poured over his shoulders. What was this sudden rush of adrenaline, and where did it come from? Hadn’t he… knocked himself out?

In the midst of his own subconscious, it felt like time stood still and he was falling into an empty hole. There was nothing to distract him from his own thoughts, a world of total focus and zoning in. It dawned upon him that he had begun to taste what true focus felt like, but he had also gotten a taste of losing any and all focus on absolutely anything… would that be considered focus too?

WC: 208