Post by Uchiha Kyo on Jan 20, 2011 21:23:13 GMT -5
"One thousand, nine hundred seventy-nine. One thousand, nine hundred eighty. One thousand, nine hundred eighty one."
The words came in ragged gasps as the young Uchiha preformed yet another push-up. Nearing his goal of two thousand, he found that the last few were the toughest to complete. Despite the ungodly pain on his arms, he maintained focus and continued to push himself.
"One thousand, nine hundred eighty-eight. One thousand, nine hundred eighty-nine. One thousand, nine hundred ninety."
He sweated profusely, so much so that even the cool night air could not evaporate the liquid before it dripped to the ground, forming a puddle.
"One thousand, nine hundred ninety-eight. One thousand, nine hundread ninety-nine. Two thousand!"
With that, he got to his feet and stretched. His arms felt like jelly, but this was just the beginning. Kyo had steeled himself to work through the night, until morning. The reason? Frustration. That was his prime motivation. He wasn't getting stronger, pure and simple. The fact ate away at his foundation like termites. The people around him were excelling, but where was Kyo? Kuzuri had activated his Sharingan in the face of danger, so why couldn't he? Naoto was developing rapidly as he heard from various Uchiha sources, so where did that leave him?
His fist slammed into the bark of the tree. Anger over took him. He struck it again. And again. And again until his knuckles were bloody.
Why am I not improving!?
Then he remembered his grandfathers words.
"Do you really seek strength for the sake of strength? No! Look inside yourself. In order to find true strength you must find something precious to you, something worth getting strong for!"
The words echoed inside his mind. He looked over his options. His thoughts traveled to his mother, whom died giving birth to him. She was precious in a foreign way, a way he couldn't really describe to anyone, let alone himself. Then there was Souketsu, his father. The thought of saying his father was precious for any reason was sickening. He was a selfish bastard who only cared about himself, and what people thought about him. Next was his two brothers. They, and the legacy of merit they left behind when they died were very precious to him because it bolstered the status of his clan...
His clan. Uchiha Ichizoku. The clan that instilled him with so much pride.
That was it. That was his muse. He would do it, not just for himself but for his entire family. The Uchiha Ichizoku. The prideful nature that he inherited from them would be his strength, and the very blood in his veins would be the adhesive to which he stuck to that promise.
He lifted a bloody knuckle skyward.
"I swear on this wound... I will become stronger. I will protect the legacy of the Uchiha clan, and I definitely wont stop until I'm the greatest Shinobi EVER."
The will of fire burned deep within him. He intended to make good on his oath, and he would start immediately. The sky was still an inky black, the only light visible being the crescent moon hanging crookedly. Dawn was still hours away and he was burning moonlight. Wrapping his bloodied knuckles in white cloth he laid back against the cool earth and began preforming sit-ups.
"If I can do two thousand push ups, then I can do four thousand sit ups..."
The words came in ragged gasps as the young Uchiha preformed yet another push-up. Nearing his goal of two thousand, he found that the last few were the toughest to complete. Despite the ungodly pain on his arms, he maintained focus and continued to push himself.
"One thousand, nine hundred eighty-eight. One thousand, nine hundred eighty-nine. One thousand, nine hundred ninety."
He sweated profusely, so much so that even the cool night air could not evaporate the liquid before it dripped to the ground, forming a puddle.
"One thousand, nine hundred ninety-eight. One thousand, nine hundread ninety-nine. Two thousand!"
With that, he got to his feet and stretched. His arms felt like jelly, but this was just the beginning. Kyo had steeled himself to work through the night, until morning. The reason? Frustration. That was his prime motivation. He wasn't getting stronger, pure and simple. The fact ate away at his foundation like termites. The people around him were excelling, but where was Kyo? Kuzuri had activated his Sharingan in the face of danger, so why couldn't he? Naoto was developing rapidly as he heard from various Uchiha sources, so where did that leave him?
His fist slammed into the bark of the tree. Anger over took him. He struck it again. And again. And again until his knuckles were bloody.
Why am I not improving!?
Then he remembered his grandfathers words.
"Do you really seek strength for the sake of strength? No! Look inside yourself. In order to find true strength you must find something precious to you, something worth getting strong for!"
The words echoed inside his mind. He looked over his options. His thoughts traveled to his mother, whom died giving birth to him. She was precious in a foreign way, a way he couldn't really describe to anyone, let alone himself. Then there was Souketsu, his father. The thought of saying his father was precious for any reason was sickening. He was a selfish bastard who only cared about himself, and what people thought about him. Next was his two brothers. They, and the legacy of merit they left behind when they died were very precious to him because it bolstered the status of his clan...
His clan. Uchiha Ichizoku. The clan that instilled him with so much pride.
That was it. That was his muse. He would do it, not just for himself but for his entire family. The Uchiha Ichizoku. The prideful nature that he inherited from them would be his strength, and the very blood in his veins would be the adhesive to which he stuck to that promise.
He lifted a bloody knuckle skyward.
"I swear on this wound... I will become stronger. I will protect the legacy of the Uchiha clan, and I definitely wont stop until I'm the greatest Shinobi EVER."
The will of fire burned deep within him. He intended to make good on his oath, and he would start immediately. The sky was still an inky black, the only light visible being the crescent moon hanging crookedly. Dawn was still hours away and he was burning moonlight. Wrapping his bloodied knuckles in white cloth he laid back against the cool earth and began preforming sit-ups.
"If I can do two thousand push ups, then I can do four thousand sit ups..."
