Strength. Endurance. Speed. This is what he needed. Dropping himself from the pullup bar, Shutai, now 13, collapsed on the ground, his arms burning, and his head pounding. Shutai wasn't sure what he was doing, pushing himself until he would break, considering his conditoion of haemophillia and how frail his body was. But, with his overconfident attidute, lust for power, and overall need to distract himself, Shutai would train day in and day out. If you would ask, the boy would just say that he wanted to be strong, but in truth, he was trying to distract himself. "Day seventy three..." He whispered to himself, in his sweaty heap on the ground. Shutai would count every day, adding an extra number come morning, to remember how many days it was since he ran away from his father. Considering his age, which Shutai guessed was around 35, he was sure to be dead soon. Although the thought that he ran away from his dying father occasinally haunted the Chi, he tried to think of it more as 'his father drove him away'. In his own opinion, he was doing much better living alone, although he had to sell the Chi clan weapon that he was given to pay for the apartment, and even had to sell some of his personal things to afford food. "Maybe I'll do some missions..." He said, and, with a grunt, grabbed the bar again and started doing pullups.

Suddenly, knowing he could lift himself no more, Shutai fell, landing with a 'plop', in a heap right below the bar. "D-Damn it..." He whispered in a dry voice, feeling as if his entire body broke apart. That was enough strength exersizing for today. Or for ever again. "Maybe I could get away with living in a giant hot bun..." He mumbled softly, pulling himself up by the arm of a chair, and stretching. He smiled to himself, and laughed out loud, a weird noise to him. Considering he didn't have any friends, and the ones he had in the academy were drawn away by his weird look and diffrent element, he talked to himself, afraid of forgetting the sound of his own voice. Looking at his arms, he sighed, distressed to see that they still looked as thin and twiggy as ever. Flexing, he did notice a bit of muscle begining to pop up, but it was nothing compared to other ninja around his age. Then again, they weren't held back for beating a kid close to death, and they graduated around age 10. He shrugged. He was proud of the age gap, he always felt superior to all his other classmates, and superior he was indeed. At least, he thought so. Shrugging, he wiped himself with a towel, and put on a loose shirt and loose pants, because loose things are where it's at. Cracking his knuckles, and whining when it hurts him, Shutai opens the door to his apartment, and looks around. There were a few trees being blown by the gust of winds that would occasinally appear. Other than that, it was a nice day.

Walking down the stairs, he landed on the ground, and, exhaling and closing his eyes, began running. He wasn't sprinting, but he wasn't really jogging either. Watching his sandals hit the ground to entertain himself, Shutai sighed the best he could while panting as much as he was. Damn, he was out of shape. How would he kill all the Kages when he could barely run over 3 meters per second? Gritting his teeth and breathing through them, the young Chi felt a new sense of determination, and began running his hardest, increasing his speed, until he felt like his calfs were burning. Continuing to run, tears began to run from his eyes, either from the pain in his lower body, or the fact that he just ran past his old house with his father. Going to a sudden stop, Shutai did a flip, landing on his backside, and growling. He was so stupid, and weak. Getting up, the boy winced at the pain in his hamstrings and calfs, but slowly and surely began to make his way back to his childhood home. He watched as the old lady who lived next to him, was, as usual, sleeping, which hurt him more, remembering how short his life would be. Stumbling up the porch, Shutai took a deep breath, and tried to steady his panting. As soon as he calmed himself, and wiped away any excess forehead sweat with his forehead protector, he knocked on the door tenaciously, to the tune of 'Shave and a Haircut', because, why not.

As soon as the door opened, Shutai was in shock. This wasn't his father. It was a woman who looked to be in her fifties, and the years did not treat her well. "What do you want!?" She rasped angrily, and, by what the thirteen year old could tell, she was shaking a fist while rapping a cane on the ground. How generic. "E-Excuse me ma'am..." He said, looking up at her, silently cursing that he stuttered, "Do you know what happened to the man that lived here previously...?" He looks hopefully, and she rasps out a creepy, detached laugh. "Oh, that old doctor. Chi fellow. He-" She suddenly is struck by a fit, holding her mouth with a hand and coughing, which sounded like she was hacking up a lung. Shutai was painted with a ray of hope, then she continued. "The doctor. He's dead. Poor man." She shakes her head, her hair bouncing. "D-Dead...?" He whispered softly, a tear beading at his eye. "Yeah. Ya deaf, son? That'll make two of us." She cackles again, then suddenly slams the door in his face, knocking Shutai back, and down the steps of the porch. Landing on the ground, he hisses, willing himself to not cry, but tears decide that, as an eternal 'screw you', to fall from his eyes, and he silently cursed himself, for running away, for messing up at the academy, for being an abomination. Shaking his head, he stood up. He had to continue training. He could have a temper tantrum later. For now he had to work on getting stronger. Starting to run again, Shutai frowned, and pushed himself to the limit.


Snapping out of his trance, Shutai looked around from where he was standing, right below his old, deteriorating pull up bar. Sighing, he patted the once shiny side of the machine. Sometimes, memories hit hard, and they would give him entire flashbacks, even when he was doing something as simple as working out. Flexing his arm, Shutai nodded. He was much more muscualar now, at fifteen years of age, but he still wasn't at the place he wanted to be. Damn, the arm pain still felt like fire, though. Throwing himself into a chair, Shutai looked again at the scrolls from Rippa Chi on his table, studying them as hard as he could, and, luckily, most of the things they said to do made sense. He would love to start using these. Blood, man. Awesome element.

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END: E1 》E2 (150/150)