Spring Awakenings

Heartbeat, Heartbreak

Tuesday, Showa Day, 4/29/12, Shirogane Estate, Late Afternoon

THWACK

The sound of heavy breathing echoed throughout the walls of the small gym. The room's heavy bag, weighted with sand and reeling from the impact of repeated blows, swung around just in time to receive another assault from its assailant.

THWACK

Naoto gulped in more air and reached her hands out to steady her battered training partner, growing somewhat annoyed by the cackling of the chain that suspended the bag from the ceiling. As it gently lulled itself to a stop, Naoto could feel the dull ache of exhaustion in her legs, so she decided to end her session for the day. She was wearing a black workout hoodie over a dark blue athletic t-shirt, complimented by a pair of long black basketball shorts with compression leggings on underneath. Except for a brief peek of her ankles between the end of the leggings and her sneakers, Naoto was completely covered up; the detective's aversion to showing her skin rarely made exceptions, even in the confines of a fairly torrid exercise room.

It was Tuesday, which called for her to go and practice striking and do some light cardiovascular exercises. Naoto had recently decided that perhaps it would be best to hone her body in addition to her mind, a decision influenced by a conversation Narukami had had with her months earlier. In yet another example of why she thought so highly of him, Yu had wondered if, for her own safety, she had thought of practicing some fighting techniques with Chie. Naoto could see no counterpoint, and so she did consult her older teammate, to poor results; despite her zeal, Chie didn't really have any sort of plan or formative training, which drove the detail-obsessed detective up a wall.

Instead, Naoto went about renovating an old room in the Shirogane Estate that her Granpa was usually far too busy to use  anymore. Always willing to spoil his granddaughter if it meant her furthering what she loved, Naoto's Granpa purchased a heavy bag, an exercise bike, and some light medicine balls, learning to use each piece of equipment in her usual timely way. Although Naoto hadn't intended to continue as a disciple under Chie, she did agree with the would-be martial artist that it was better for Naoto to focus on her cardiovascular endurance than her strength. In addition, Chie had suggested that the tiny detective learn how to get the most out of her legs, since her arms were short and couldn't reach as high as might be necessary to fight an assailant. 

Thusly, the last stretch of her workout usually included a small session with the heavy bag so she could refine her technique and learn to get all the strength she could out of her kicks. Taking a seat on the bench, she slid the elastic white shin-guards that encased the lower parts of her legs off, shaking her leg out to relieve the soreness. Setting them both down on the bench beside her, she slowly began to remove her sweaty hoodie when her thoughts turned once again to Rise and the things she had said.

Without the distraction of practicing her strikes on the bag, it was inevitable that Naoto would begin to ruminate on the last twenty four hours. Left alone on the roof, Naoto had found her way home, although she could barely recall willing her brain into doing so. The rest of the night had been a slow, torturous crawl; Naoto had lay wide awake in bed, afraid to sleep because of the hideous potential of the dreams that lay within her head. She had not had any contact with her friends since, and was thankful that it was Showa Day, the precursor to Golden Week, which meant that students didn't have school. Naoto doubted she would have been able to face anyone anyways.

Exercising had been an able distraction, but Naoto's mind was like a computer, cursed with the ability to seamlessly remember everything. Rarely did even the oldest memories tiptoe away from the recesses of her mind, never mind one so devastating. She gripped the hard underside of the bench she was sitting on, feeling the thick wood press into her palms. The sweat that had clung to her shaggy hair dripped onto the blue mats as the memory began to play again.