"One, two, three, four!"
Those passing through the legendary dojo could no doubt catch wind of the chanting of several students, all gathered near the center of the training area. The small crowd was gathered around a training dummy now that their class had recently ended, which seemed to spark a debate between two of the classmates that exploded into a competition. If one could get a closer look, they would find the spire of worked wood was steadily being drove into by what seemed to be a large metal nail, it's head jagged and worn. In front of it stood a girl on the taller side compared to most of her class. Her dark bangs brushed in front of her face with each swift movement, scarcely concealing a glint of confidence in her eyes as her bare knuckles rammed the dulled spike steadily further into the training implement at the same rhythm of her chanting peers.
"Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen!"
Between the act of cruelty being done to the dummy and crowd stood a shorter red-haired boy, arms crossed firmly over his chest as he sternly watched the girl try to successfully drive the dull stake through solid wood. It shouldn't be possible, right? Surely it must be some scare-tactic developed by their instructor to try and get him to focus less on his puzzles and more on the training he's been chastised for falling behind. She'll either break her knuckles or cry bloody murder before it's over, and his point will be soundly proven. With each rough slam against the head of the nail, the chanting continued.
"Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five!"
The girl's slim arms flexed, throwing her weight forward with each punch that slammed directly against the jagged surface. Between strikes, the nail's head steadily took on small crimson droplets, doing it's work of wearing away the confident student's flesh after pushing the thick stake just past it's halfway point. What's more, she remained unflinching, a thin sheen of sweat forming from the exertion of her relentless assault. Her confidence only blossomed, a slow grin seeping over her lips with each heavy breath that passed her lips. Her muscles must be straining by now - she could tell by how much effort she's beginning to put into throwing another punch. And another. And another. The chanting grew more excitable after seeing how she's been able to handle the challenge, and at how close she was to completing it.
"Fourty-eight, fourty-nine...FIFTY!"
A good number to end on. Her teeth grit, throwing all of her weight forward into her right fist in order to send the nail it's final inch into the coffin (at least it should be now, poor dummy). The disgruntled boy huffed in annoyance as the students briefly cheered for the victor. The girl could only chuckle, arm reaching up to wipe the sweat dripping off of her forehead. "Told ya it's not impossible. Any of the teachers could probably do it in their sleep." Her shoulders slumped down as she caught her breath, reaching with an outstretched palm toward the boy. "Now pay up!"
The boy could only look down at the hand being presented to him, repulsed by the gesture. What's up with him, anyway? It's not like she has cooties or anything. She could only be puzzled by his response until she finally thought to look down at the appendage, coming to the realization that it was beginning to drip with blood from her partially torn knuckles. "Oh...Uhm..." Her tone quickly adopted one much less cocky and abrasive, pulling the limb timidly back to her side. "Just uhh...bring me a snack for lunch tomorrow or something." She attempted a compromise to save face for the momentary embarrassment. The others didn't seem to dwell on it too much, the small crowd of kids already dispersing to go about their own business yet again.
[MFT][Word Count: 650]
Those passing through the legendary dojo could no doubt catch wind of the chanting of several students, all gathered near the center of the training area. The small crowd was gathered around a training dummy now that their class had recently ended, which seemed to spark a debate between two of the classmates that exploded into a competition. If one could get a closer look, they would find the spire of worked wood was steadily being drove into by what seemed to be a large metal nail, it's head jagged and worn. In front of it stood a girl on the taller side compared to most of her class. Her dark bangs brushed in front of her face with each swift movement, scarcely concealing a glint of confidence in her eyes as her bare knuckles rammed the dulled spike steadily further into the training implement at the same rhythm of her chanting peers.
"Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen!"
Between the act of cruelty being done to the dummy and crowd stood a shorter red-haired boy, arms crossed firmly over his chest as he sternly watched the girl try to successfully drive the dull stake through solid wood. It shouldn't be possible, right? Surely it must be some scare-tactic developed by their instructor to try and get him to focus less on his puzzles and more on the training he's been chastised for falling behind. She'll either break her knuckles or cry bloody murder before it's over, and his point will be soundly proven. With each rough slam against the head of the nail, the chanting continued.
"Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five!"
The girl's slim arms flexed, throwing her weight forward with each punch that slammed directly against the jagged surface. Between strikes, the nail's head steadily took on small crimson droplets, doing it's work of wearing away the confident student's flesh after pushing the thick stake just past it's halfway point. What's more, she remained unflinching, a thin sheen of sweat forming from the exertion of her relentless assault. Her confidence only blossomed, a slow grin seeping over her lips with each heavy breath that passed her lips. Her muscles must be straining by now - she could tell by how much effort she's beginning to put into throwing another punch. And another. And another. The chanting grew more excitable after seeing how she's been able to handle the challenge, and at how close she was to completing it.
"Fourty-eight, fourty-nine...FIFTY!"
A good number to end on. Her teeth grit, throwing all of her weight forward into her right fist in order to send the nail it's final inch into the coffin (at least it should be now, poor dummy). The disgruntled boy huffed in annoyance as the students briefly cheered for the victor. The girl could only chuckle, arm reaching up to wipe the sweat dripping off of her forehead. "Told ya it's not impossible. Any of the teachers could probably do it in their sleep." Her shoulders slumped down as she caught her breath, reaching with an outstretched palm toward the boy. "Now pay up!"
The boy could only look down at the hand being presented to him, repulsed by the gesture. What's up with him, anyway? It's not like she has cooties or anything. She could only be puzzled by his response until she finally thought to look down at the appendage, coming to the realization that it was beginning to drip with blood from her partially torn knuckles. "Oh...Uhm..." Her tone quickly adopted one much less cocky and abrasive, pulling the limb timidly back to her side. "Just uhh...bring me a snack for lunch tomorrow or something." She attempted a compromise to save face for the momentary embarrassment. The others didn't seem to dwell on it too much, the small crowd of kids already dispersing to go about their own business yet again.
[MFT][Word Count: 650]
