The soil on the training field was damp from the morning dew, and the air was filled with the raw, green smell of crushed grass, mixed with an overwhelming odor of sweat.
Shira braced herself on the ground, her arms as steady as two iron stakes driven into the earth.
His body rose and fell, the rhythm like a pump that never stopped pumping in his chest, the exhaled air creating a small, wet puddle on the ground in front of him.
"Six hundred and twenty-one, six hundred and twenty-two..." he counted silently, his voice choked in his throat.
Sweat dripped down his chin, not drop by drop, but in a continuous stream, making dark little dots on the soil.
Heaving came heavier, more labored breathing from the side, like a bellows being pulled, and the same dull, yet forceful, sound of a body slamming to the ground.
That was Rock Lee. He was lying less than two meters away from Shira, his training uniform soaked through, the front and back stained a deep shade, clinging tightly to his body.
He performed it perfectly, almost too perfectly. With each descent, his chest almost touched the ground, and with each push-up, his arms were taut and slightly trembling, but never bent.
But his heavy breathing betrayed the fact that he was nearing his limit.
"Five hundred and ninety-seven, ninety-eight!!" Rock Lee's voice was squeezed out through clenched teeth, trembling.
Out of the corner of her eye, Shira noticed that his movements to prop himself up had slowed considerably, like a rusty machine, each lift was extremely difficult, and his arms were shaking more and more violently.
"Five hundred... ninety-nine...!"
The last shout seemed to come out with every last breath in his lungs. The moment the numbers hit the floor, Rock Lee's body, which had been taut like a bowstring stretched to its limit, finally relaxed completely with a "snap."
In an instant, he collapsed to the ground, his face buried in his arms, his back heaving violently as he gasped for breath, unable to utter a single word.
On Shira's side, she counted to seven hundred and twenty-nine. Her arms were sore, but her body was warm. Sweat stung her eyes a little, but she could still manage to keep her breathing in a certain rhythm without getting out of control.
He stopped when he saw Rock Lee collapse, then he also stopped, rolled over and sat on the ground, hastily wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve, looking at the figure slumped over beside him.
"Alright, Li, five hundred and ninety-nine, that's pretty ruthless."
"I'm panting, "Shira said, her voice a little hoarse but with a smile. She knew what that number meant for Rock Lee's current age and training regimen.
Rock Lee lay there for several seconds before he could barely turn his face to the side, revealing half of his face that was a mess of mud and sweat. Only his eyes, though red from being soaked in sweat, still shone brightly.
He tried to speak, but only managed a series of broken, breathy sounds. After coughing twice, he managed to squeeze out a few words, albeit haltingly. " Shira, you, over seven hundred... monsters..."
"Haha! Same here." Shira laughed, stood up, walked over, and extended her hand to Rock Lee. "Take a break, want to change to something else? Lying down like this isn't very tiring."
Rock Lee looked at the hand extended in front of him; it was covered in sweat, and had some small scratches and calluses from training.
He took a deep breath, held his breath, grabbed Shira's hand, and used the leverage to stand up abruptly. His legs were still a little weak, and he swayed for a moment before regaining his balance.
"Alright! Change!" Rock Lee's voice regained some strength. Although he was still panting, his eyes had rekindled their fighting spirit. "Wait a minute... wait a minute, we'll do the duck walk together! Twenty laps around the training field!"
The duck walk... Shira recalled that in Sunagakure, this was also one of the classic tortures that tormented him, a first-rate method of breaking his thighs and endurance.
Shira made a sour face and nodded. "Okay. Take a break, stretch a bit, don't get a cramp."
The two of them stood by the training field, leaning against nearby wooden stakes or tree trunks, grimacing as they stretched their overused muscles.
Aside from panting, the only sounds in the air were the faint "crackling" of joints and muscles being stretched, and the occasional gasp of surprise.
" Shira." Rock Lee said in a muffled voice, hugging his knees and pressing his face against them, "How did you train your stamina? Do all the people from Sunagakure train like this?"
He just witnessed Shira doing over 700 push-ups without batting an eye.
Shira, who was straightening her shoulders, thought for a moment after hearing this and said, "Not entirely. The main thing is that you have to be tough on yourself. Even when no one is watching, you have to set the standard."
"A thousand off-key repetitions are not as good as a hundred repetitions done with all your might." He recalled the days and nights he spent training alone at the Sunagakure training grounds, and the stern gaze of his teacher, I Fūgetsu.
There's also the realization that I must fight my way out with my Taijutsu. I chose this path, so I'll see it through to the end! Just do it!
"Your Konoha Taijutsu training must be quite systematic, right? Your movements look very standard," Shira asked.
"Hmm!" Rock Lee perked up at the mention of this, loosening his legs and his eyes shining. "The teachers at school teach very diligently! I've also been practicing extra! But I've never seen anyone like you, Shira, who can do so many standard push-ups in one go."
Rock Lee scratched his head, a little embarrassed, "I thought I had already tried my best..."
"What are you saying! You've clearly already tried your best."
Shira interrupted him, her tone serious, "Don't compare push-up numbers. Everyone's physical condition and training methods are different. The important thing is to push yourself to the limit every time, without holding back. I don't think you held back at all."
Rock Lee paused for a moment, then nodded emphatically, a slightly silly, bright smile of approval spreading across his face. "Mm!"
After stretching for a while, the two walked to the starting line of the track, got into a duck-walking stance—squatting with their hands behind their backs, and walked forward while squatting like that.
This posture looks ridiculous, but once you start walking, you realize how dangerous it is; after just a few steps, the front of your thighs feels like they're on fire.
"Begin!" Rock Lee shouted in a low voice, taking the lead with standard posture but not fast speed, each step steady and solid.
Shira followed closely behind, adjusting her breathing and center of gravity. For a moment, only the two of them breathing heavily and the rustling sound of their feet rubbing against the ground could be heard on the training field.
Twenty laps may not sound like much, but walking them on a duck-like gait is absolute torture.
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the journey, conserving every ounce of energy to combat the burning sensation in their legs and the increasing weight of their bodies.
Sweat poured down their faces again, their training clothes soaked through. But no one stopped, counting the laps, one lap, two laps...
Listening to each other's equally painful yet tenacious gasps became a silent form of encouragement.
Just as they gritted their teeth and reached the seventeenth lap, nearing a grove of trees at the edge of the training field—
"Oh--!"
A small figure suddenly screamed and stumbled out of the bushes next to the grove, almost bumping into Rock Lee, who was cosplaying as a duck!
Rock Lee reacted quickly; although his posture was awkward, he managed to stop and steady himself.
Shira stopped immediately and looked over with a frown.
It was a boy who looked only seven or eight years old, with short, dazzlingly bright blond hair and three lines on each side of his face that resembled a beard.
His face was dirty, covered in mud and grass, and his blue eyes were wide open, filled with panic.
The blond boy seemed surprised to find people there, especially two who were moving in such strange postures, covered in sweat, and looking rather intimidating.
He abruptly stopped, looking timidly and warily at Rock Lee, who was blocking his way, and Shira, who was frowning behind him.
The air was quiet for a moment, with only the three people's shallow breathing.
Shira looked at the blond boy who had suddenly appeared, especially his deep blue eyes, which resembled both the sky and a lake, and her heart skipped a beat.
That hair color, that age, that appearance, and those distinctive lines on his face...
Could it be...?
Rock Lee, struggling with a duck-like gait, asked the other person, his voice hoarse from exhaustion, "Hey, are you alright? How did you get out of there? Be careful."
The blond boy, Naruto Uzumaki, looked at the two sweaty, oddly positioned but seemingly harmless people in front of him. He blinked his blue eyes, and the panic on his face slowly faded, replaced by curiosity.
He sniffed, didn't answer Rock Lee's question, but instead pointed to their posture and asked in a tone that was thick with childishness but trying hard to sound mature:
"What game are you guys playing? You look so weird!"
Well, I finished writing this chapter at 10:00 AM on Saturday. My homeroom teacher discovered my whereabouts, and I was exposed!
I discussed with my homeroom teacher that I could hand in my phone after I finished writing the draft for next Thursday (January 1st), and she agreed!
Dear readers, I will be unable to reply to messages from Sunday until next Wednesday afternoon. Please understand, thank you.