The doors that allowed access to Naota's gear room where wide open at the moment, he was taking inventory of what he had to work with, and making notes of what needed replacing soon. He had a multitude of mannequins to work with, each set up for different martial styles and purposes. Everything from kata, to basic attack dummies, all the way up to the highly specialized dummies used for training martial styles that focused pressure points, for anything from causing paralysis to causing beneficial effects. He refused to focus on a single martial style; as it stood he was rated as a master in at four styles, proficient in three more, and at least adequate in three more. He was looking to pick up at least one more before he settled for a while; ten styles was more than most people could name; outside of say, variants of major art styles; he knew ten completely unrelated martial styles, and was able to mix and match them almost perfectly. He was always working to train them together, work out new and better combinations and ways to use them together.

Weapons and such hanging on the walls where ignored entirely; he was finding that he didn't really work well with weapons, beyond his fists and knives; the largest weapon he was really comfortable using in battle was his kunai blade, and even that was less for actual attacking and more for finishing things before they even started; he'd retired his staff recently when he realized that he was basically never going to use it properly. Training with it was all fine and dandy, but it didn't work well with his battle style, at least right now. Maybe one day he'd come back to it, or maybe not. Either way, it had joined the wall of practice weapons; along with a multitude of other items. Rope darts, three sectioned staffs, spears, tanto and swords, all manner of weaponry. It was as much for decoration as for training at this point, with few of them eve leaving their place on the wall once they where put there.

Selection of the mannequins was simple enough; he was going for basic training really, not so much for anything specialized. The basic attack dummies, three in total; selected and moved from the neatly arraigned lines they stood in normally. One at a time, he'd made sure to buy the ones that where extremely durable and therefore massively heavy; even to him. The cores where metal, solid steel, with real bamboo and special padding that gave all of the feel, density, and whatnot of the normal human body. About the only thing that wasn't natural about them was their weight, each was close to 800 lbs total due to the steel cores; and that made them extremely popular with high ranking Taijutsu users. They could beat on them for days any never fully destroy them, and being able to manhandle one of these was 'proof' of their strength. He just liked them because he could burn them during training and only have to replace the cheap bamboo and cloth, versus the entire dummy.

Each was lifted, one at a time, and carried to the middle of the training room, where they where arraigned in a pattern that would allow him to work on both individual kata, as well as combination attacks. Once they where set in place, he moved back into the storage room to gather more of the gear he would need. Wrapping his hands in cloth cloth bandages took a few minutes, he was extremely well practiced at wrapping his hands and feet, but he always took his time and made sure it was done right; that way he didn't have to worry about the cloth rubbing wrong and causing blisters, or the protection being weaker in spots and him risking taking more damage than was needed, or worse damage anyway, at those spots. Around the wrist to start, moving up the palm and to the fingers, each wrapped to the top of the first knuckle, around and around and around, in figure eights and circular patterns until the bandages where thickly laid and he was happy with the wrapping. He'd grabbed four rolls of the cloth; two where used to wrap his hands, and the other two would come into play next. He removed his sandals and unwrapped his normal ankle wraps. It was thinner cloth that was comfortable with his sandals and his field boots; but it offered no protection where he needed it, and almost no support once his foot ware was removed. Starting at the center of his foot, he began wrapping overlapping layers until he reached the awkward area of his heel and ankle; moving the bandages up so that he was wrapping downward from above the ankle for lower calf support, and to give a second solid anchor spot. Once that was done, he began working around the ankle and heel in a figure eight pattern, overlapping and firmly wrapped without being tight, until the entirety of his foot was wrapped save for the area from the balls his feet to the toes, and from the base of the calf downward. The process was repeated with his other foot until he was ready to go. Standing, he flexed his ankles and rotated on his heels a bit, making sure that he hadn't tied them too tight, and that circulation wasn't being cut off. Finding the fit comfortable, he picked up around himself a bit, making sure to return all the storage containers and such to their proper place so that the floor and training area would be clear for him to work in.

How to do this... kata, or something else? It was all the same, really; it wasn't like he was training under some specific regimen, nor with someone else. He was by himself, and training alone, so he could do whatever he wanted. While he liked working with people, he always had been a bit of a loner when it came to training; he preferred to work alone unless he was specifically doing something that required a partner, that way he could push himself to his limits at his own pace, not while working around someone else's limits and such. That was rarely fun, unless it was someone that was willing to give him the same courtesy and do as much to work with him as he did with them. That was a rare trait to find in people, even more so among Taijutsu users. They weren't all loners, they just hated to have to work to other people's pace, outside of working with specific partners, teams, and the like.

Alright. Now then; he'd made his decision on what he wanted to train, so he should probably get to work.

Let's see now; the general purpose mannequins where good for literally everything but pressure point training and anything that required cutting entirely through something. Slicing into the fabric and bamboo was fine, but trying to cut entirely through one of these would be... difficult at best, impossible at worst. Well, not for him, if he used his fire he could melt through the steel, but that wasn't helpful, and it was expensive to replace these. You didn't see them outside of the high level training areas and specialty training rooms for a reason.

So, lets take this nice and easy. Simple punches and kicks, remember your basic kata and forms. First kata, a basic combo. A flurry of punches to the chest, followed by a spin kick to the head, and finished with either a hammer kick once the target fell, or a palm strike if they where still standing.

Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, palm strike. He'd work on that version of the kata first. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, palm strike. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, palm strike. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, palm strike. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, palm strike. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, palm strike.

Alright, that was enough of that one. Now for the other. He took the time to push the second mannequin to the floor to give him something to hit with the ax kick, they where positioned perfectly to launch into the proper kick and allow him to swing back and repeat. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, move past to the second mannequin, ax kick, swing back to the first mannequin, repeat. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, move past to the second mannequin, ax kick, swing back to the first mannequin, repeat. Chest punch, chest punch, chest punch, spin kick, move past to the second mannequin, ax kick, swing back to the first mannequin, repeat.

Yep, that was good. Second kata. A circular triple attack, he would basically be dancing around the three targets the entire time he was doing it. Because of that, he needed to lift the second mannequin off the floor and set it upright. That was harder than putting it down, as gravity was working against him now, and the shape and weight distribution wasn't conducive to being lifted easily. It wouldn't take him long, though; he was plenty strong, and although it was hard, and he very nearly dropped it on his toes a few times while shifting it along and around the stand base, but he got it up. Once it was, he walked it backwards a bit, setting it into a new position right where he needed it. Moving to the first mannequin, he shifted it a few feet to the left and forward, putting it into the right position to start from. The third was left where it was, as it was already pretty much right for this. Now granted, in battle the targets you moved around would never be in the perfect spot like they where here, but you had to get the basics and muscle memory down before you tweaked it to moving targets.

This kata was pretty simple; artistic and a bit flashier than he normally liked, but extremely effective. Using fluid movements, you literally danced around the targets in a circular patterns, making yourself extraordinarily difficult to hit, putting your targets in the line of fire from their allies while getting out yourself, and attacking from strange angles that couldn't be easily guarded.

It started with a bob and weave, dart in and chop at the neck, before whirling around and delivering a palm strike to the ribs, and finishing with a stomp to the back of the leg and a punch to the base of the skull. All the while moving in circles, darting, and dancing just out of range of their attacks, and never standing still long enough to be hit by anyone around you.

Bob and weave, neck chop, circle around, palm strike to the ribs, move out of reach, circle more, kick in the back of the leg so that they fall, and punch the base of the skull. Bob and weave, neck chop, circle around, palm strike to the ribs, move out of reach, circle more, kick in the back of the leg so that they fall, and punch the base of the skull. Bob and weave, neck chop, circle around, palm strike to the ribs, move out of reach, circle more, kick in the back of the leg so that they fall, and punch the base of the skull. Bob and weave, neck chop, circle around, palm strike to the ribs, move out of reach, circle more, kick in the back of the leg so that they fall, and punch the base of the skull.

When done right, you end up in a completely different spot than you started, but perfectly ready to dart right back in and use it again. It was the type of move that you could use over and over until you ran out of targets; perfect for large crowds of enemy combatants. Let's see, he wasn't even starting to sweat yet, so he'd keep working. Three kata really wasn't much training anymore, his training style was about mastering what he had, not having a massive amount of half trained and barely usable skills.

What else would be good right now...?

Actually... he could dig another mannequin out and work on the few weapons he used. Kunai and Shuriken practice wasn't below him; he was a dead shot, and was pretty damn proficient with the kunai blade, but he could always do better. He had a few hundred practice weapons stored in the room, so he'd do that for a bit. He'd go back to kata training after; better to take a break and do something else to keep his body guessing and keep the gains from this training high. He went to the doors of the storage area and opened them, moving back to the mannequins and moving them to their proper storage spot one at a time. It was slow work, but it was training in it's own right; it was strength building after all, they did way a full 800 lbs a piece, and that was still heavy enough to be noticeable to him. Enough to make his muscles strain, and that was what he needed. It was that strain that made him stronger, and he wanted to get stronger; not to be the best or the strongest, but so that he could protect his family, his friends, his people, his country, and himself.

One the heavy mannequins where stored, he moved to the box filled with the various training targets and such; retrieving over a dozen of them to hang across the training room. He didn't feel like working on long range just yet, so he'd focus on close and mid-range for the moment. It took him a good five minutes to set out the targets all over the place, at various heights and angles. Once this was done, he grabbed for the smaller, lighter, training mannequins; these where the cheap, easily replaced ones that you used for weaponry practice, or just in general, because you could slice them up, burn them to a crisp, beat them into a pulp, and not miss them at all. These he set about at random, sticking a few of the ranged targets on them to give himself more targets. Once everything was set up, he opened the chest with the wooden practice kunai, shuriken, and his wooden kunai blade, making sure they where in good shape before he started using them. Satisfied, he closed the chest and dragged it into the main room, setting it against the wall just beside the door. He closed off the storage room and reached into the chest, grabbing the basic six kunai that one would start with. He'd do it in a specific way, dance and move around the room while throwing the kunai at the targets, or slashing at a mannequin, then race back to get more in a sort of speed trail. Once he ran out of kunai, he'd move on to shuriken.

To the center of the room he moved, and raised his arm with a single kunai in his hand to chest level, in the common stance that move ninja took when starting a fight with the small knives. Throw throw throw slash slash throw slash throw slash. Run to the chest to grab more. Slash throw slash throw throw slash slash throw slash throw throw. Run back for more. Throw throw throw slash slash throw slash throw slash. Run to the chest to grab more. Slash throw slash throw throw slash slash throw slash throw throw. Run back for more. Throw throw throw slash slash throw slash throw slash. Run to the chest to grab more. Slash throw slash throw throw slash slash throw slash throw throw. Run back for more.

Aaand he was out of kunai. Well, that was a way to break the rhythm. Too bad, he was having fun. Oh well. He spent the next five minutes gathering up the used kunai, the inside of the room looked spiky from all the kunai sticking out of the walls and such. It didn't take that long, really, to gather up the three hundred or so kunai and stick them back in storage. With that task done, he moved the storage chest a bit and rearranged the insides some; moving the containers inside of the chest filled with shuriken up to the top of for easier grabbing. Once that was done, he grabbed his first handful of shuriken and moved to the center of the room to start. He'd be using a similar style here; only he'd be moving between a shuriken storm and basic throwing. The shuriken storm style required massive numbers of shuriken flying in all directions at once, while the basic throwing was just that, basic throwing.

The storm would be first; he'd go through more of them using that method and need to gather them up after a while.

He grabbed handful after handful of the shuriken and stuffed them into his sleeves and pouches, until he was holding so many it was slightly uncomfortable. He didn't really like this style much, he never could understand how people could carry hundreds of kunai and shuriken on their person at all times without using a summoning seal or something.

To the center of the room he returned; shifting his body into a specific stance that allowed him to throw his weight around and shift into a spin that he'd need to use.

Into said spin he went, and then shuriken where flying everywhere.Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! A second to stop spinning, take a breath, and reset. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! A second to stop spinning, take a breath, and reset. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

Holy frick the dizzy was real. Gods, that was enough of that. He barely managed to stumble out the main door and into the grass to puke; he hadn't had a large breakfast, but there was still a bit of food left in his stomach; or there was, now it was slowly baking dry in the sun in the grass. Okay. That was just not fun. Or, it was, until he'd needed to puke. He really needed to spend more time working on that style if he was ever going to use it; he still got dizzy to the point of nauseous when he trained it, so he'd need to work on it more. The mental note was made, and after a bottle of water was used to rinse his mouth, and a few moments of sitting to let his head clear, he was ready to get back to work. He took the few minutes to gather the shuriken back up and put them back into the container. He'd just reach down to grab them when needed for this next part, he was going to be target throwing, versus storming across the room.

Simple enough.

Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Reach down for more. Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Reach down for more. Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Reach down for more. Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack! Throw! Smack!

And emptiness achieved. Woooo. Once more, he was cleaning up the gear from the walls and mannequins, returning the shuriken to their container one last time for the day. He opened the doors and dragged the chest back into the room, taking it to it's designated spot and taking one last moment to make sure everything was in the right spot inside of it, before closing it and moving on. To the wall of weapons next, reaching for the wooden kunai blade and lifting it from the holders that kept it there. Once it was down, he checked it over to make sure it was in good shape. It was a little worn and the lacquer was chipping in places, but that was fine. He'd replace it later; but it would work fine for now.

He'd left the cheap training mannequins out, and they would be fine where they where. He didn't need to move them, he could use them as they where and still get the training done. The kunai blade couldn't really cut, since it was made of wood and had a rounded edge, versus having a metal covering or some other edge reinforcement that allowed for a sharp edge to be overlapped on onto the wood. That was fine, as hard as he hit, he'd be shattering the dummies more than likely.

Alright, time to get to work. He darted into the room with the kunai blade raised high and started slashing and chopping at the dummies at random. Slash slash chop slash stab stab slash chop slash. Slash slash chop slash stab stab slash chop slash. Slash slash chop slash stab stab slash chop slash. Slash slash chop slash stab stab slash chop slash. And that was one dummy gone. Slash chop stab stab slash chop stab. Slash chop stab stab slash chop stab. Slash chop stab stab slash chop stab. Slash chop stab stab slash chop stab. And two mannequin down. Chop slash chop chop stab slash stab slash. Chop slash chop chop stab slash stab slash. Chop slash chop chop stab slash stab slash. Chop slash chop chop stab slash stab slash. That makes three. Well, three and the blade. It snapped in half on that last slash. Wonderful. Well, he'd deal with that later, really. Time for the next bit.

He was going to work on the concept of the 'one inch punch'. It was all fine and dandy if you had the room to pull your arm back and build up momentum. You could be the strongest person in the world that way, you could use momentum and gravity to boost the power of your muscles all you wanted that way. However, what where you to do if you only had say, three inches? Your opponent has you pinned against a solid wall and you can't throw a punch normally. How do you hit then? With no room to build up power, you can't fight back. The point of this training was to fix that handicap. It was supremely simple in theory, and even simpler to train. You merely set up a solid, flat object; usually a board or a wall, press your fingertips to it, and curl them up into a fist as you punch. Simple.

Well, yes and no.

It was a massively difficult skill to master; taking massive amount of endurance and training. You could spend half your life working on this skill and not master it; and doing it wrong would destroy your hands beyond repair.

He wasn't all that worried.

Moving toward a specific dummy, it was literally just a board cut out to be a silhouette of a human body that was normally used for target practice, he checked it over one last time before he got started. He'd modified it a bit so that it was more stable than it would normally be; special weights in the base and a layer of metal behind the wood to keep it together. There was a space between the wood and metal layers; it would allow the wood to crack and splinter inward in a way that would be obvious when and if he was able to break it. He had three of those dummies set up, so he could move between them if he needed to.

Alright, now to begin.

He flattened his right hand and placed his fingertips against the center of the dummy's chest, near where the heart would be marked. It was the thickest spot of the board, and the best to train on. He took a few moments to gently curl his fingers and place his knuckles against the wood; he was running through the motions in his mind, and taking a moment to get slightly more familiar with the motions in practice. He did this for a few minutes until he was satisfied that he had it down, then actually got to work.

Fingers touching the wood; palm flat and level. He inhaled deeply, then pushed his knuckles to the wood as hard as he could, fingers curling and creating a solid fist the instant before impact. That... hurt like a bitch. Holy frick that hurt. He sure as hell didn't have weak fingers, and his knuckles where solid and large in the way a martial artists hands where; his fighting style had plenty of punching style and technique in it, so there was no reason for that to hurt so much. It was more proof that he wasn't done training his body; he had to work on his endurance so that he could handle the damage he did to his own body as a result of his own attacks.

Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Repeat. Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Repeat. Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start.

Okay, that was enough blood. The skin on his knuckles was split and oozing blood, so now would be a good time to treat the wounds and bandage them. He wasn't going to stop the training, he was just going to take a short break to make sure he didn't cause more harm than needed. Leaning against the side of the ice chest was his medical kit; He pulled the bottle of sterile water from the kit and used it to rinse the wound, pressing a pad of antibiotic infused gauze to the wound until it stuck. He took the bottle of iodine and poured some over it before grabbing some medical tape and taping it down. Now that the wound was clean and dressed, he made sure that he put the kit back in order and closed it up before placing it back against the chest. He grabbed the roll of his training bandages and began wrapping it around his hand. He was only going to wrap the hand he was training with at the moment; there was no point in even trying to wrap the other at this point; the injured training hand was already stiff and hard to move, so it would be next to impossible to do it.

Moving back to the training dummy, he resumed his stance and got back to work.

Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Repeat. Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Repeat. Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Holy gods that hurt. There was also the problem of the board having cracked and splintered finally; although that was as much from the sheer number of strikes as it was from the power of a singular punch. He'd need to move on to another dummy now, to see just how much he'd actually progressed.

Moving to the second dummy, he took the time to check it much as he had the first; this one had the same modifications as the first; the extra weight at the base, the added layer of metal for support of the punches. It was all but and identical copy; only this one actually had the bulls-eye markings and zoning outlines of a target dummy. He'd re-purposed it; it was originally exactly what it looked like, a training target; hell, it even had marks and scuffs from being used as one; but nothing major enough to risk the integrity of the wood. It was solid enough to use for this.

He spent a few moments curling and releasing his fingers; they where growing extremely stiff from the swelling and the damage to his joints; they where partially dislocated from the impacts, and that was making this harder. It wasn't going to stop him, he'd gone a lot farther with much worse injuries. Once he was ready, he resumed where he left off.

Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Repeat. Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. Repeat. Fingers placed on the wood, palm flat and level. Brace the body. Tighten the muscles, and launch into a punch. Curl fingers into a proper fist the moment before impact. Release the fist, and return to start. And another ruined dummy. Yaaaaay. This time it cracked in a long break down a seam in the wood grain. It wasn't his doing; the stress of the impacts wasn't enough to break or splinter the wood on it's own; but a weakness, a defect, had ended the usefulness of the dummy early. Sad, really.

His pulled his hand back and looked at his knuckles; the blood was starting to soak through the bandages now, but they where still in good shape. They where starting to fray, barely; so they where good to keep going on for a while longer. He flexed his fingers as best he could, managing to keep from wincing from the dulled pain radiating from his damaged knuckles. Hurts like a bitch, but shit, he'd still done worse.

He had a feeling, though; something he wanted to test.

So he moved back to the area with the dummies and to the last of them; it was the least modified of them all. This one only had the extra weights at the base, to keep it stable during the impacts. Otherwise, it was basic and unchanged; only the layer of wood, and nothing else.

He moved to stand in front of it and placed his fingers to the wood. Inhaling deeply, he took a moment to center himself and focus; inhale, exhale; inhale, exhale. Focus, forget the pain. It's not there. Your hand is perfectly intact; nothing to worry about. He repeated this mantra until the pain faded, and he had convinced himself, or his body anyway, that he was perfectly intact. He could manifest his full strength this way, without the limiters in his mind activating to protect him from harm.

Palm flat.

Inhale.

Tighten muscles, prepare for the punch.

Exhale.

There is no pain.

Inhale.

Focus.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

And...

PUNCH!

He punched the dummy with all his might and all but cackled when the wood splintered and cracked in half like it was wet rice paper being torn. Oh, that was glorious. He'd been holding himself back without realizing it, his subconscious protecting his body from further harm; basically sabotaging himself in the process. Made perfect sense once he realized it; this was a training that was meant to worked on over weeks and months and years; not minutes and hours. If he'd done it the 'normal' way, he would have stopped long ago and gotten no where near this far. He also wouldn't be looking at needing his knuckles stitched up. Eh, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

-Exit-

WC: 5525

STR E0 - B0 5525/5025