Takeshii stood at the gates to the Akata Clan home and prepared himself for a hard day of physical endurance training. First he was expected to run ten laps around the property than he was expected to spar members of the Akata families dojo. Afterwards ten of the families senior fighters would stretch Takeshii, and following that stretching he would do one hundred strikes against the training stone with each of his eight limbs. That was only todays training. Tomorrow he would be expected to do double! Of course this is just the cost of Takeshii applying to be promoted to Chuunin. His father won't allow him to disgrace the family by being a weak shinobi. Of course he did this with love, and a strong mind of what it takes to be a strong shinobi.

So with the silent observation of his father, Takeshii began at the gates and would run all the way around the wall. Each lap would be about 4/5 of a mile, so ten laps would be an 8 mile run. That being said if Takeshii slacked off, and his father would know, than he'd have to run two more laps. After the first two laps around the walls Takeshii felt like he was getting in a rhythm, his feet propelling him forward at a steady pace. That's when he made the mistake of telling his father that it was easy to run ten laps. It should be noted that all of his training was being done barefooted. As he ran he conditioned his heels to pain and pressure.

"Oh, it's easy is it? Ok. Well let's make it more difficult shall we?" His father said with a calm expression picking up a fifty pound sack and throwing it over Takeshii's shoulders. "You've got eight more laps son, and I want that sack on your shoulder the whole way!"

"Yes sir!" Takeshii said as he started his laps again. He kept a steady pace for the first two laps but after that he started running out of breath. The extra weight was really tiring him out, but he forced himself to keep going. Everytime he felt like he was going to die he just pounded his feet into the ground and forced himself forward. After the next two laps he had four laps left and the weight was weighing down on him. He felt his shoulders cramping up, he had a side splint, and his legs were on the verge of spasming. Yet he forced himself to keep going. With two laps left his breath was completely gone, he was out of breath and the weight on his shoulders felt one hundred times more than it actually was. He kept saying to himself, 'and this too shall pass.' And with some extra motivation from his father in the form of an E-rank jolt of lightning chakra to his backside, Takeshii finished all the laps. With all ten laps done Takeshii's father took the sack from him like it was a paper weight and told him to run five more. Takeshii groaned quietly to himself and kept running. However those five laps flew by without a hitch. Without the weight on him it was a hundred times easier than before.

After his laps he was guided to the middle of the training field, where is father had three groups. One group had ten Genin ranked members of the family dojo. The second group had five chuunin members of the family dojo. The third group had three special jounin members of the family dojo.

"You can not use any weapons. No strikes to the throat or groins, I'd like grand children.Haha... Oh and no jutsu. Anyways, son. I'll let you choose the group you want. If you choose the Genin group than you have to face two at a time for two minutes a peice. If you choose the Chuunin group than you have to face each member for two minutes a match. If you choose the Special Jounin group than you face each member for three minutes a match. What'll it be?"

"I'll take the Special Jounin group!" Takeshii said, doing the math, it was either ten minutes of fighting kids he could probably beat while sleeping. Ten minutes of challenging fights but still getting the piss beat out of him. Or nine minutes of just getting the piss beat out of him. Which is still one minute less than ten, and every minute counts.

"Ok, let the matches begin."

The first guy bumrushed Takeshii who had no time to prepare a counter attack and before he knew it he had fists, that might as well have been sledgehammers from how hard they hit, bludgeoning him in ways that he was not accostomed to being bludgeoned. The first hit, a straight punch to the solar plexis took all of his breath away. Everything else was just pain and misery until the three minutes were up. At one point the guy kicked Takeshii so hard in the leg that he did a full side flip before being smashed into the ground with an axe kick, than picked up with the same leg and volley kicked like a damn soccer ball. That wasn't even the worst of it. Oh, no. The guy than casually strolled up to Takeshii, picked him up by the scruff of his neck and noogied him until the time about up and finished the match with a quick and humiliating blow to the small intestine, which immediately made Takeshii's gag reflex kick in.

"You ok son?"

"Yes sir." Takeshii said, regaining his composure and his fighting position. While wiping his mouth.

"Good, next match begin."

The second guy smiled and beckoned Takeshii to attack. Which Takeshii was stupid enough to do, running forward and throwing a leaping punch to the tall man's face. The guy turned gripping his arm and slamming him into the ground hard. He than put his knee on Takeshii's shoulder and twisted it until Takeshii felt his shoulder displace. Not wanting to look like a punk in front of his dad he kept himself from weeping. Only enough for the guy to grip his other hand and with a twist of his wrist dislocated Takeshii's wrist, elbow, and shoulder in one move. At this point one might have given up, but not our black knight Takeshii. To him it t'was but a flesh wound. Or it would have been if that was it, but alas no. The man slid on the ground with his feet apart and scissor sweeped Takeshii to the ground gripping his leg and dislocating his hip. By that point the match was over. With a few simple movements Takeshii's father relocated every bone which was pulled out and patted his son on the back.

"You good?"

"Yes sir." Takeshii said wiping a tear from his face and biting his lip as to not cry.

"Alright, match three."

"But she's a girl."

"Yeah, and?"

"You want me to spar a girl?"

"Is that a problem?"

The girl in front of takeshii sported twin buns on the side of her head and a blue chinese garb. She interlaced her fingers and cracked her knuckles like fire crackers.

"Daddy, I need an adult."

"I AAAAAM AN ADUUUUUUULT!!!!" The girl screamed as she rushed in to show Takeshii who his new mommy was.

Takeshii was interupted by his father and than countless kicks to all part of his body which hurt alot. Followed by a tripple spinning hook kick all three of which felt not unlike complete humiliation and instantaneous regret. So, like picking up a girl from the bar to find out that not only is she not a girl. But her package is also ALOT bigger than yours. Followed by a douple sweep kick, and a falling round house kick to the gut.

"Ok that's enough."

"No... I still have two minutes left."

"Okay."

Takeshii stood and took the rest of his two minute beating like a man. When it was finished all three special jounin bowed to him and he bowed as well and fell flat on his face. After a good hour recuperation with his mother's medical treatment, he was ready to continue.

"I feel that you're stretched out. So I want you to go to the striking stone and do your strikes. Than we'll do conditioning training."

Takeshii bowed and walked over to a large cylindrical stone in front of the dojo and took his fighting position. He'd start with his right hand, than his right elbow, than his left hand and left elbow. After that he'd do his right shin, followed by his left shin. After his first ten right straight punches his knuckles were already red. After thirty his knuckles were bleeding. He forced himself to continue and after fifty his knuckles were bruised. Even so he wasn't allowed to give up, so he did more and did them harder dispite the pain he pushed through it. After eighty his knuckles were fractured, and by the time he reached one hundred strikes his knuckles were splintered and flattened. He bent his arm and started on his right elbows. After twenty his bone was sore, after fourty he was bleeding but he kept going. After sixty his elbow felt severely bruised, and after eighty it felt fractured. By the time he made it to one hundred strikes his elbow was numb, but not broken. He switched positions and started on his left hand. By twenty his knuckles were bloody, by fourty they were bruised. By sixty his knuckles felt extremely painful but he kept going. After eighty his hand felt completely numb, and by one hundred he couldn't feel his wrist either. He bent his left arm and started on his elbow strikes. After twenty his bone was sore just like with his right elbow, after fourty he was bleeding but he kept striking. After sixty his elbow felt severely bruised and painful, and after eighty it felt fractured but dispite the pain he still kept passing. All the while keeping to his training mantra, this too shall pass. By the time he made it to one hundred strikes his elbow was numb, but not broken.

Takeshii switched legs and started on his right shin by roundhouse kicking the stone. By twenty kicks his shin was in tremendous pain. By fourty his entire shin was bruised from the top of his foot to his knee. By sixty his shin had stress fractures at multiple areas, by eighty his entire leg was numb to his feet. By one hundred his leg was a bloody mess. He switched legs and dispite the pain from his other leg, continued his training repeating his mantra, this too shall pass. Just like with his right shin, his left shin was in pain by twenty kicks. It was completely bruised by fourty and severely fractured by sixty. It was numb by eighty and by the end of his training it was a bloody mess.

Takeshii stumbled back to the dojo, and stood at the ready for his final bit of training with his hands held straight in front of him. The three special jounin from earlier  were instructed to come in and grab staves from the side wall.

"I want you to strike my son until he can't get up, or until you've struck him one thousand times. Actually, regardless of whether he can get up or not, each of you strike him one thousand times. Takeshii when your done mom has rasberry tea in the house, her special blend. Don't let it go cold."

"Yes sir." Takeshii smiled a bloody smile.

The three took their positions, The girl striking his lower back, the taller guy striking his shoulers and the other guy whom was bald striking his stomache and chest. After the first two hundred strikes Takeshii's body was numb and he couldn't feel anything any more so he just kept standing. After four hundred strikes the two special jounin had broken their sticks on Takeshii's body so they had to go get more. When they came back with metal rods Takeshii closed his eyes and said to himself, this too shall pass. After about five hundred strikes Takeshii's ribs were broken and he had trouble standing, but he remained vigilant until all one thousand strikes were done. At which point he collapsed and the three special jounin carried his limp unconcious body into the home. After his mother's special blend of medicine, he was awake and wrapped from head to toe in what would otherwise be funeral garb. When it was removed he had a few extra scars and far more pain tollerance that he had before.

(Endurance E-1 to D-3 2168/1850)