A Genin's Resurgance [P, WIP]

It had been a long time since Nova had last just gone out and trained. The expression "sword arm's getting flabby" came to mind, though where it came from was a mystery to her. It also applied to her mind for combat, the instincts for throwing a punch that had been ingrained in her mind for so long. The reason for this incredibly long down period wasn't laziness or even the depressive spiel she'd been in for the weeks following the fateful mission with the elderly taijutsu practitioner. No, Nova had been focussing on herself; who she was, what she wanted to be. Such a proposition was unusual for the usual lug-headed genin, but a bout of introspective mood had happened upon her.

Nova had come to the realization that she didn't particularly like who she was at the moment, and didn't fancy the chances of that feeling disappearing any time soon in the future. She was awkward, violent, brash, and hypocritical. It hadn't bothered her before - when she didn't have to deal with any people for long periods of time - but the recent missions she'd been doing with other people like Ichigo had shown just what a shit person she was to be around. She couldn't go five minutes without blowing up or confronting people with her various issues; something she'd normally get annoyed at people for doing to her.

Nova wanted to change. All her weeks of introspection had led to this one thought. It wasn't something that'd happen overnight, or even in the next month or two. It was, however, something she wanted to work towards. She didn't even know where she could start with this change, but she was sure that her bull-headed nature would see her through. She should start with the small things: smiles, apologizing, basic manners. Over time, she hoped, these things would become second nature. A thought came to mind which suddenly filled Nova's mind with a dark pit: when had she last laughed? Smiled, even. Did she even remember how to do either of those things?

WC: 347

She sighed and uncrossed her legs from where she'd been sitting and laid back on the ground, looking up at the ceiling. Things were looking up for the most part. Deciding to be a better person wasn't the most unique thing in the world, but it was something that Nova had internalized. Right now... What Nova needed was to get her head back in the game. She needed to start training again. She could feel it in every movement she made, everything she picked up: she was vastly weaker than she had any right to be. How dare she call herself a proud Kumogakure Kunoichi when she'd allowed herself to grow so weak and pathetic? She raised a hand above her and clenched it into a fist. Her nails bit into her bare palm with ease, drawing blood once again. She remembered the last time she’d done this and she felt herself starting to slip back into that angry mindset. That damnable woman, always creeping up into Nova’s thoughts where she sure as shit was not wanted.

Nova pushed herself off of the ground and landed deftly; at least she still had that. Her body was weak, but certain movements would never be forgotten. Time and time again Nova had been punched to the ground back in her past, and she had had to force herself back up again. That was the one thing she actually liked about herself: a willingness and stubbornness to do anything she set her mind to. It wasn’t a particularly rare trait - especially in such a hard-headed village like Kumogakure - but it filled her chest with pride to know she was one of many in the village. Had other people gone through periods of downtime like she had? Or was she just pathetic and-

Nova stopped her thoughts there before they could spiral out of control. That was exactly what she was working on herself to fix, but it was a lengthy process.

WC: 330
TWC: 677

Quickly, Nova began to walk around her flat cleaning up. Staying inside had left it in quite a messy state, and the job wasn’t easy. Dirty clothes, takeout boxes, dirty dishes, a broken curtain from one particularly angry-filled night. All of it added up to just make Nova feel even more like shit, and she wanted it gone. She collected her washing and put it in her washing basket. Almost instantly, her flat looked ten times better. But it wasn’t enough. Slowly, over the course of the next hour, the young genin slipped into a routine where she cleaned everything up. Dishes were washed, dried and put away. The various filled bin bags taken outside. Laundry fully washed and hung up to dry.

She took a step back to witness the full brunt of her hard work cleaning everything up. This… Was a good start. Cleaning up her living space had provided her with clearer thoughts, odd as that may sound. She now knew what she wanted to do today, thoughts returning to earlier: she wanted to train. She wanted to go outside and push herself to the limits. She wanted to feel the strain as she overworked her muscles, and wanted to feel the satisfying feeling of scoring a winning blow on the opponent. Not out of malice, but a need for a worthy opponent. It had been a while since Nova had fought someone who wasn’t so far above her that a worthwhile fight was meaningless, or someone who was so different from her that learning something new was next to impossible.

WC: 265
TWC: 942

Sighing, Nova finally got dressed into some training attire: a grey jumper, tracksuits, trainers and tied her hair up into its signature bun. The clothes that were usually tight on her were baggy and weren’t filled out like they used to be. Instead of letting that upset her, Nova just used it as a source for inspiration. It wouldn’t happen instantly, but she would get back to where she was.

Breathing slowly, Nova left her flat and began to break out into a jog. Down the stairs, past the old lady who smelled like cabbages, and through the front doors. The air outside was nippy and cold, but that was how Nova liked it. It was far easier to get warm through training then get cold after all. The cold was also nice. Oddly enough, it focussed Nova, cleared her mind. It was easy to get drowsy in the heat when you hadn’t had enough water to drink, but it was much less so than if you exercised in the cold.

Her feet pounded on the concrete beneath her, pushing off. Right, left, right, left. Nova’s head was clear save for the thoughts of running. Nova's desire to train only grew at every impact, pride in her fitness fueling the feeling. The world around her slowly turned to a blur as she rushed through the streets, wind rushing past her exposed ears and probably drowning out the sounds of shock from the civilians. Nova didn’t care though. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of running.

WC: 259
TWC: 1201