[Shirai Tetsumaki]

One month had passed, with Shirai teaching and training this girl through the motions of taijutsu, whilst putting her under a regulated workout regimen and diet. Which Shirai would more or less force her to follow religiously. So much so that Shirai had recommended she stay in the dojo for this period to oversee her, but also to educate her on topics other than their fighting style. Namely. About the clan's history. Of how they had come to be gifted the Raijintai, and how subsequently, what their ability was. To turn into electricity, and in a sense, to embrace this jutsu as if it were a gift from the divine. Which Shirai seemed to fully embrace. For it was their clan's mighty strength.

Shirai had utilized many aspects of martial arts to her advantage, but she found much use in quick and precise strikes that disrupt the concentration, and take out opponents swiftly. Thus, she employed the use of Wing Chun, a bit of pankreiton, as well as assaults that aimed for vital spots. Why? Because their clan's implementation of speed, electrical paralysis, and other such attacks would make it so that they were fearsome to behold at close ranges. So much so when Shirai showed that with some jutsu, their electrical and piercing capabilities applied to their entire body. They were "The Storm", and Mitsumi had to understand that as a fundamental basis.

If Mitsumi took to the training and the diet as Shirai planned? She'd be in her peak fitness about now. Easily on the level of what one might consider an olympian athlete. Perhaps the best physical condition her body had ever been. And if all was right? This meant that in the beginnings of February, as the snow came down in the morning chill? It would be her final day of pills. Finally she didn't need to eat more cooked blood, or red meats, and iron rich water anymore. Though Shirai seemed to enjoy all of the above. 

All while Mitsumi was forced to interact with the kids and do other chores to pull her weight. 

"Oi. Moshi Moshi! Wake up time!" She calls out, hitting a gong to signal the start of a new day. 

[Itagaki Mitsumi]

The new routine made Mitsumi long for the days of the old routine.

She had thought that the running, and the more intense training, and the stress of being around people after so long in isolation was bad. Mitsumi had been innocent, then. She didn't know that her muscles could get this sore.

And if she never saw a steak again in her life, it would be too soon.

Mitsumi had, despite it all, stuck through it. Learning about the clan, its history, and their beliefs, even when her head started to ache. Drilling her body in unarmed martial arts, building on a mostly empty scaffold with more established stances, katas, and movements. And there was muscle training. Stamina training. Enough that she had mostly been spared nightmares purely by her body and brain being too exhausted by the morning to do anything but sleep.

Mitsumi had agreed - reluctantly - to stay on the clan compound, with her parents still considering what to do if, or when, their daughter was adopted into the clan proper. Moving the restaurant would be a huge undertaking, but it was not as though the clan compound would be such a terrible place to be. A complicated issue, which Mitsumi had too much on her plate to think about.

She was willing to do her chores - basically anything that didn't involve an incinerator or cooking - and Mitsumi was actually very good with younger children. The experience that came with helping to raise a much younger sibling. And they helped her feel less homesick.

A month had passed, and strength had creeped up on her. Every day, the weights felt a little lighter - unless Tetsumaki made them heavier, of course. She could run a little further. Her body got a little more definition. She had never been in this shape before. It had taken her long enough to reclaim even her thin and weak frame, after so long spent barely eating or moving.

The gong woke her from blessed sleep, and she started. She should have been used to this. And she was. But... shadows preyed on her mind, and she scrubbed her eyes with a sleeve, and it came away damp. She took a shuddering breath to steady herself, fighting the urge to curl up and feign illness. It wasn't just the aches in her muscles or the lingering fatigue. There was more to it than that. Something deep and nameless. Something she had to ignore. Had to pretend wasn't there. She could deal with it later. Always later.

Waking up to find that she had been crying in her sleep was, for better or worse, pretty normal for her. At least she wasn't screaming in terror this morning. A dark mood hung over her like a cloud, but she forced her leaden limbs to change into training clothes - clothes now well-worn and scuffed after a month of intensive training.

Mitsumi emerged, a little later than her usual prompt self, her eyes visibly red.
"Good morning, Tetsumaki-sensei," Mitsumi bowed politely, and then immediately started to stretch and limber up. Who knew what her taskmaster had in store for her today?

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

Yeah, kind of hard to cry yourself to sleep when you were crying through most of the day, working hard and doing shit that otherwise would leave you so drained physically that the only thoughts were getting rest and sleep. That was what Shirai did in her military ideals. You learned to follow instructions, and you did it. Mitsumi probably crashed more than a few times on her futon, and goodness knows that it would be hard to feel depression when you were feeling like you were dying as it was. Eh. Working out was good for the mood and soul anyways so she heard. Yes.

"Today's the day." She says, looking towards Mitsumi, knowing that this evening, they'd begin the ritual. "And so, I've made steaks, gyudon rice bowls, pork katsu, and chankonabe stew. All we can eat." She says, before cracking her neck abruptly to the left side, and then the right with small cracks. "No hard training today." She says, beginning to move and walk to the end of the wooden hall. As one of the younglings began dashing down its length with a wet rag to clean up any dirt or dust off the floor in their scurry. Mitsumi was just about ready to be one of the first of her clan converts. If that meant anything.

"So...How do you feel like you've adjusted? Living within our little community."

[Itagaki Mitsumi]

Mitsumi took a breath to steady herself. Not just because of the menu - though her stomach hurt just thinking about it - but after a month... this was it. Time to see if her body and mind could handle it. This ritual, which would change some small but fundamental aspect of herself. Her studies into ninjutsu had not gotten to elemental releases. Honestly, what little indication of her natural tendency she had seen had terrified her. But now she was to forswear all but Raiton. Everything from the past month had led up to this day.

The last chance to back out. If she went through with this, if it worked... she would be a Tetsumaki. Not by blood, but by choice. Bound to their traditions, their rules, and their authority. And she would receive power in the exchange.

Her heart only wavered for a moment.

"It's been... intense. And I've never been away from my family for so long," Mitsumi admitted, clenching and unclenching her hands slowly as they walked, trying to shake off the morning aches and stiffness. She felt nervous. Excited to take this next step, and anxious to have it over with. "But... I feel... stronger. And it's been kinda nice. Feeling like being a part of something, well... bigger." She was trying to focus on the positive. Having younger kids around, outside the context of the Academy had been surprisingly nice. And the strength was literal. She actually had developed a little tone and definition, for the first time in her life.

"H-How... How do you think I've been holding up?" Mitsumi asked tentatively.

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

Shirai was of course more aware of the changes Mitsumi was going through than perhaps even Mitsumi herself. However, in the month they'd had together, she could see she'd done an excellent job in getting the girl up to snuff. "Honestly, I'd say you're doing pretty good for yourself. I definitely can't complain about the progress you've made." That said, she finds herself sort of thinking about how she was holding mentally as opposed to just physically. In which case, Shirai found herself slowly looking her over, from head to toe. "I hope you enjoyed your time. With me." It felt a little out of the blue perhaps.

She said it somewhat distantly, as if wondering to herself if perhaps Mitsumi did find genuine appreciation and care for Shirai herself, or if this was perhaps some route to power. Quick power. That said, she didn't have much time to really think or retort on it. Instead, she finds herself slowly walking towards their mess hall. Shirai, Mitsumi might realize was someone who adopted many orphans, including children from outside of Kumogakure itself. For she believed that the foundation to a strong family was beyond that of ties of blood. It was genuine care and desire. To hear problems and to overcome challenged one another. To put aside boundaries.

"I'm curious. This chance you're being given. This training. Me. What do they mean to you?" She was curious, and she wanted nothing more than utmost honesty. Her eyes scanning the purple haired girl over for some semblance of reaction.

[Itagaki Mitsumi]

Enjoy?

The question surprised and confused Mitsumi. She wasn't here to enjoy herself, and she would be lying if she said she enjoyed the grueling training regimen, not being away from her family. And yet...
"It's been..." Mitsumi failed to make eye contact, looking around the largely empty clan compound. There were too many kids, and not enough adults. It didn't take much to put two and two together. It was a mutually beneficial relationship: Mitsumi would get power, and the Tetsumaki clan would gain another bearer of their Hijutsu. Starving extinction off for another day. "I won't say 'fun,' but... yeah. Enjoy is a good word." Mitsumi tried to make the answer honest, but she wasn't sure if even she believed it, let alone if Shirai would buy it.

The next question wasn't any easier. Mitsumi tugged at the hem of her jacket. Didn't Shirai know it was far too early in the morning for deep talks like these? "What does it mean? Ah... Eto..." Mitsumi's eyes wandered as she tried to come up with an acceptable response. If it was a test, she could not fail at the penultimate hurdle. She finally managed to meet Shirai's gaze, but it clearly took effort. Could she see the redness around her eyes? How uncertain she still was, despite the determination burning in her breast? "I see it as a... a chance to become stronger," Mitsumi began slowly. "Not strong in a sense of power. Well, there's that, too, but..." Nerves were about to make her ramble again.

"I want something to be proud of. Maybe this power, this clan, could be it." Even without the month of intensive training, it was clear that a crippling lack of self-esteem was behind a lot of Mitsumi's less productive habits. "A-and you're the one giving me this chance, Tetsumaki-sensei. So, I'm, um... grateful. A-and... And no matter what happens, you'll be an important person to me." Would that be an acceptable answer?

Mitsumi had braced herself for a meal, a hike, and a ritual, not an interrogation.

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

For some reason, the answers Mitsumi gave seemed really half hearted, or rather, maybe set in the wrong places. Because it seemed like as if Mitsumi thought this power, when she had it, it was going to be the answer to all of her problems or something. "This is just a tool you know? You're still going to need to work hard." Winking at her, but with it, she felt her feel a little heavy. Because in her own way, it was her own journey too. Taking someone, an outsider from the clan at this age, and indoctrinating them in all there was. Taking a deep breath, she hoped all Mitsumi said was true.

"Then I've nothing left to ask. You've worked damn hard. Hard to get to where you are now, and I'm proud of all the progress you've made." Taking the liberty to guide her to the table, a feast of food was assembled, though with it, a familiar head might present itself. A small child with greyish hair color, slowly slinking and stealing a piece of food off from the table and skittering off in their grey hakama. Nezumi. One of the orphans Shirai had taken in, skittering off and nibbling on a piece of the morning meal. Though, Shirai seemed to pay it no mind. It must have been odd, Mitsumi realizing how many children Shirai seemed to take in.

"Itadakimasu." The amount of meat on the table was smothering, and yet, with a small scoop of rice, a ladle of soup, it seemed as if Shirai ate heartily as ever, drinking the soup to feel its enriching properties, before she took a bite of the katsu with some sweet honey sauce. Swapping over to a few bites of her beef bowl with some pickled ginger on top. Mitsumi ought to enjoy this meal. After all. It might be her last. No?

[Itagaki Mitsumi]

"I know. I'll keep working hard. It's all I can do," Mitsumi said, staring down at her hands. She was trying hard to keep her optimism in check. If this ritual was a success, and if she could learn to use, even master, the Raijintai... that would be the beginning of the road, not the end of it. Not by a long shot. She was just trying to get to the starting line. And yet, treacherous hope blossomed within her. Would it bear fruit, or just to more pain?

Best to brace herself for both outcomes. There was the chance that this failed, or the ritual could cripple her, even kill her. She still knew little of it. Mitsumi took a steadying breath. The decision had been made. No cold feet, now. The orphan, Nezumi, was watched with a raised eyebrow, but Mitsumi did not comment. She hadn't gotten used to so many unrelated children in such a small space, but Mitsumi had seen enough to not question it. If it was of concern, Tetsumaki would handle it. As callous as it sounded, Mitsumi needed to focus on herself, for now. If all went well, perhaps she'd help with the younger orphans again.

"Th-thank you, Tetsumaki-sensei. But... I don't think I could have worked this hard without you pushing me." Mitsumi blushed at the praise, but she did raise her gaze to meet Shirai's for a moment. "I... Lots of people treat me like I'm... fragile. So thank you. For pushing me as hard as you do." While her other responses were careful, this one was forceful and heartfelt. As much as she loved her parents, they had seen her at her worst, and her most broken. Shou was still too young to understand. Jokyu was kind and understanding, but only Shirai pushed her until she wanted to vomit. Or actually vomited.

"Itadakimasu," Mitsumi echoed, clasping her hands together politely. She still didn't have much of an appetite - she seldom did with the amount of protein Shirai had put in her diet - but Mitsumi still ate. Not as heartily as Shirai, perhaps, but she clearly had the intention of finishing the meal. But it was also clear that she wasn't really savoring it, mind wandering to the coming ritual.

She swallowed a mixture of beef, rice, and sauce, and washed it down with soup. "The ritual... can you tell me what I should expect? Or is it a secret until I'm actually inducted into the clan?" The details had seemed unimportant, until now. It was dangerous, it was a bit risky, and it required both a lot of stamina and iron-rich blood. Or was that merely for the technique?