It was evening. Okita had just woke up. He knew his sleep cycle was messed up and this was no good as it was harming himself ,however he somehow couldn't sleep during the nights. It brought back bad memories. Anyhow Okita woke up with this weird feeling. It was now months ago since he last trained and even longer ago since he last held a real katana. In the morning before going to sleep he had met Takumi. This little monkey that asked him to be his sensei. Okita then remmember how he used to respect and admire his own old sensei so he also knew he had to meet up with the younglings expectations. If there was not for his kenjutsu training the kid might have as well turned out to be more formidable foe. He then shook his head as all these thoughts where pulsing trough his head all day ,or all his sleep at the matter.

It was Okita's room. It was a small and compact room with one bed by the wall , a little closet by it and some loose wallpaper. Okita's clothes where covering floor ,bed and in fact only place they weren't at ,was the closet. A small window was letting in the now fading sunlight which further improved the poor looks of the room. Okita opened his eyes and with the leg he already held outside the blanket further moved it aside and finally pushing it off the bed. As the bed dropped leaving only the stench of collected dust Okita seated himself up by the side of the bed ,facing the only window. He rubbed his eyes and finally got up. His body felt tensed and stiff so he slowly ,almost zombie like slipped to the window. This was just a single step yet it seemed to take eternity. When he finally reached the he had stepped into some old bread crumbles and something sticky that had "glued" one of his socks to his ankle. Okita first didn't notice this as he was more concerned with taking a look outside. Okita slowly pulled the ragged curtain to the side. The curtain were red with white dots and one dot was "replace" by a hole in size of a fist. At first the light blinded him for a moment but then by focusing his sight he managed to take a look outside. He was living on the second floor , right in front of him stood a house that covered the bare sight to the village Okita could have. Only thing he could see behind it was a tower standing somewhere closer to the center of the village. A window in front of him was slightly open so he could hear his neighbors arguing about something. He could care less though so he just looked down to see the stuck sticked to his ankle. He bent down to pick it up and the rose it to his face to smell it. After taking a slight whim his face expressed a relief. "Smells almost like candy...". Anyhow he then got dressed and before he knew it hunger had drawn him outside.

Okita strolled the narrow city streets. He was properly dressed now ,wearing his uniform. He then checked his pocket for the most important thing - his sleeping mask - and once he acknowledge its in its place he walked forth with a more confident pace. after a short walk he smelled a bakery. During whole day the sweet scent had focused to a certain place in the neighborhood. Okita's mouth started to water as he instinctively neared the well known bakery. Before he knew it he felt satiated ,his pockets a bit lighter and his head finally clear. It was finally time to move to the training.

Okita finally came to the Akako dojo. He could enter easily without much of question just some staring looks. He knew what they were thinking but he wasn't going to let him ruin his mood. People were leaving after hard day of training as it suddenly became dark. once Okita reached his training room ,he was already alone. There he slowly removed his jacket and and everything else he didn't want to get sweaty. After few moments he was there wearing only his pants. After few hops to mood himself up Okita closed his eyes relaxed his shoulders leaving his hands hanging by his sides ,relaxed his knees but still remained standing. He slowly breathed and recollected his training as well as sensitivity of his body. Then all of a sudden he rose his hands and stepped forth. After that few more steps followed with a certain hand movements representing sort of waves.

After few minutes Okita felt warmed up. He continued to have a little jog around the dojo. His bare feet slammed to the smoothly paneled wooden floor. Despite the slight slowdown he suddenly felt somewhat nostalgic. He remembered his old days of training. After a while head shook his head. During this time of dreaming he had his pace had increased over the seconds so he now was sprinting and therefore becoming a bit sweaty. He felt like running some more but he also understood that if he wears himself out like this he won't make much of a progress. As he stopped he didn't expect himself to catch a breath and instantly dropped down forth on his fists and started doing push ups. They seemed to be more tiring than usual so once he hit 150 he need to take a rest. He then recollected the remaining energy and pushed himself up on feet with a strike like forced . He then made a few steps back as his body was shocked by the sudden change of positions. After a short moment of recovery and catching his breath he realized physical strength training may come a bit later.Now he need to recover his technique. Not today however. He decided to walk home and take a rest first and come here full of strength to return to training more seriously in the actual morning.

[ 1028 words ]

The day 2 had arrived. He had awoken in the morning. Once in sch a long time he had awoken in the morning. And it felt good even despite the souring muscles and annoying noise coming from outside. Never the less he stood up going for his morning routine. He skipped breakfast and shaving though. He didn't put on socks either. He left house with a new excitement ,something had reawakened in him ,something long lost and dearly missed.

Okita entered the streets moving trough them in a swift pace , he was just jogging but he picked up speed slowly ,step by step. Once he was halfway to the dojo he's speed was that of an actual shinobi. Okita manevoured trough the packed streets avoiding physical contact with anyone and everything. He enjoyed the feeling of freedom. It was a magical sensation. Anyways he started to drop the speed as the dojo finally came into sight and stopped right by the entrance. He was wearing a T-shirt ,sandals and his uniform pants (those were the only ones in his wardrobe).

Okita finally entered the dojo , it was swarming with new students so he moved to the dojo room he had reserved earlier for himself. As he walked trough the hallways he held his head low. Though he wasn't very tired this instantly dropped his mood a bit and his breathing became slightly heavier. When he finally entered his training room he closed the door behind him and leaned against them. He closed his eyes inhaled and then moved forth.

Okita initiated his training by starting to jump in place. Then he shook his hands gently and slowly rounded his head while still hopping in place. Okita motivated himself by saying- " Alright man ,this is your day ,today you restart your life of a ninja..." . After a short while he started to train.At first he started to make gentle palm strikes and dodges. He did some shadow boxing just striking with his palm rather than fist and avoided doing extensive strikes. The pace at which he did strikes and dodges increased over time until he added some quick elbow strikes coming from sides and eventually ended the striking routine with an upward elbow strike powered by a forward shoulder dash. After that he didn't catch a breath and dropped forth holding his hands extended and forward. He entered a standard push up position however he didn't feel like doing the typical push ups. Instead Okita used his strength to push him up so hard he threw his own body in the air and then dropped backwards landing his shoulders and softening the crash by moving his hands backward. Never the less he then pushed once again throwing himself forth back into the push up position. At first he used pure hand strength but after a while it required some effort from his toes ,ankles and waist as well. Okita didn't care about the count performed even if it was decent. His muscle swelled yet he pushed himself trough the pain. He had never given up to pain or any other setbacks and this wasn't an exception. Okita continued this exercise without a rest until his muscles finally couldn't take no more and crashed with his face into the ground. At first he couldn't get up as his arms twisted and couldn't focus enough strength. After a short while of partly sleeping and resting ,his chest sticked to the ground by sweat and his chest heavily lifting he finally picked himself up. He felt his hands being worn out but that was just great. Okita got up straight closed his eyes , took few breaths and then ducked ,touched the ground with his fingertips and at the very same moment they made contact he hopped up jumping at a height bit over his own head while standing. Making sure he ain't hitting the ceiling Okita continued making hops. The most effort came not to do the very hops but to make them exactly alike. Each started once fingertips touch the ground and jumping exactly as high as the previous time. He didn't make count this time either and stopped the training after quite a while once he finally slipped over the puddle of his own sweat he had made beneath himself. The temperature in the room had risen as the ventilation could not make up for Okita's expelled heat. After few moment of laying on the dojos floor he got up seated ,wiped his forehead and slowly got up. He slowly moved towards the hallway walking slightly hunched over and at a pace of a drying paint. It seemed to take hours till he got outside and could finally breathe with a full lung. It was noon. Sun was at its peak so Okita seated himself down leaning against the dojo's wall. He looked like a beggar that has lost his hat if not for the uniform pants. Anyways after an hour of a slight nap Okita got up once again and returned to the dojo. Okita decided to relax and recover. He got into his fighting stance and slowly made sliding steps forth moving hes hands simultaneously to the same side and the to the other with the nest step as he moved on. Damn this is lame he thought to himself and shook his head as he returned to his regular stance. Instead he decided to meditate a bit. Okita crossed his legs Indian style , moved his hands to the sides with palms turned upward at the height of shoulders and elbows slightly yet in a relxed manner bent and basing on his knees at the side of his body. Okita closed his eyes and started to control his breathing by inhaling and exhaling only trough his nose. He calmed his mind and focused solely on his breathing. After a while sounds became much louder and clearer. He could even hear the fly buzzing around on the other side of the room. Finally even the sounds couldn't draw his attention. Light seemed to envelope him. Oddly enough he didn't like the calmness. He didn't feel like deserving it so he awoke from the meditation like a sleep and got up. At first he was angry gripped his hand into fist ready to punch anything for any reason but then...He calmed down. He wasn't ready for peace just yet but that just meant he had to keep going. He didn't quite smile but his face seemed to emit joy. "Here goes fighting routine again..." . Okita returned to his ounching routine delivering several quick jabs to the air in straight line. He continued jabbing for few minutes and then just changed angles and continued never moving out of place or displacing his balance center.