Tiger made his way to the training area. The other two went to finish eating their birds at his prompt. He walked towards the obelisk that protruded out of the ground. He punched against the stone, though barely brushed them with his knuckles as he did so. He wasn’t aiming to do any damage, just working on his skill, making sure to only barely brush the stone with the edge of his skin, the backs of his fingers, with each punch. He continued working on the stone like it was a sculpture, with the goal of not shaping it at all, but rather to shape himself. His mind was elsewhere though.

He had to be harder, faster, stronger. He was far too weak, even now he was a burden to his brothers. He needed to regain whatever former strength he once had so he could stand beside them. That was in the future though, right now he needed to work on his strength, regaining an iota with each passing moment. Inch by inch he was going to claw back to them, he just hoped he could keep up with their progress.

He was dripping with sweat, heavy from exertion already. The mass of ki he held expanded around him. His movements became slower, deliberate, only moving the tiniest amount he could without stopping. He felt his muscles contract, relax, over and over. He had to be harder, faster, stronger, and he would start by becoming gentle, slow, and weak.

The air around him became heavier, and now he could only move fractions of an inch at a time. Yet, he continued to brush along the stone, a silent sculptor, only letting out the sound of his breath which came out after long moments.

All of a sudden, he released the ki. The air was no longer thick or heavy, but he didn’t falter. He continued to move, only the minimum amount he allowed himself. He could feel the burn within his muscles, the ache that was now soothing him.

He recalled his master, all those years ago, training him in this manner.

And all those years ago, he had hated it. He couldn’t stand still for even a moment, so doing was borderline torture to him at that time. However, when he found out how much his master used this training, and the strength he received from it, he couldn’t help but wonder about how much strength he himself could gain. So he did it. He gave into his master’s demands and then began to slowly grow his own strength. He would move, only inches at a time, and yet even that was too quick. His master would expand his ki out, surrounding the small boy with the mass of ki. His first test was to not pass out under the pressure of the ki, and the second was to not stop. He could move as slowly as he could, but never to stop. The moment he stopped, he would find himself face down into the dirt. The first hundred times he couldn’t manage it. The next hundred, he barely could manage it for seconds at a time. Then eventually it became minutes. When he could finally move, the fractions of inches he was allowed to, he had to learn how to expand the ki around himself. It made it easier to slip into the form, but even then it was extremely difficult. When his muscled burnt and screamed out in pain, he couldn’t change the speed at which they moved. No, he had to move at a constant pace, again and again, and he couldn’t let his master down.

He learnt how to eventually slow himself down to a near standstill, but with the ki around him to slow him, that was easy enough. It was when one could do it without the ki around them, when they had truly mastered it. It took Tiger so long for him to even become proficient in it, to continue the slow drag, but even so he didn’t manage to start up the technique without the ki to slow him down.

His master could start it half way through any technique, and that was a true mastery of the technique, something more akin to an artist.

Tiger couldn’t help but admire his master. Tiger was barely a teen when he first managed to learn the technique to any real measure, and he could see the smile on his master’s face. No matter what, his master was always proud of him, even if they were at odds often due to Tiger’s fiery nature, and well… his master’s fiery nature.

Tiger hadn’t realised when the tears had started, but he stopped his training to wipe them away from his eyes. They could have been mistaken for sweat, for he wore it like a second layer of clothing at this moment, but he sniffed once deeply to gather in the air that he hadn’t sucked in for so long. He’d need to work on his breathing too, but that would come right after he could finally manage to move his body in a way that would listen to him. He didn’t like starting from the beginning, he wanted to start wherever he liked. Yet he would need to train for that once more.

He continued this for some time, moving fractions of an inch at a time, and then finally he started to practise his techniques, only to then slow them down progressively. He punched a hundred times as quickly as he could, and then with each punch he would reduce the speed, over and over, until he moved at a snail’s pace. The stress put upon Tiger’s mind was greater than that off his body, and he needed to find himself some strength as he couldn’t allow himself to think. Thinking meant delaying his action. He needed his entire mind to be thoughtful only of his movements, the tiniest of twitches could break his concentration and then he’d have to start all over again.

Yet he found himself inevitably thinking of his failure, his early retirement, and then the death of his master at the hands of the Black Calamity. His tears would come out, and yet he’d continue to move through his forms, now practising his kicks. Eventually he stopped his kick and held it there, now focusing on contracting and relaxing each muscle that went into his technique. The last time he had really used this particular technique, he couldn’t floor the person, and that was something that was a shame to him. This was his greatest technique. A single kick across one’s neck. Almost every time he used the technique, he always floored the opponent. Almost every time.

His eyes flashed to the obelisk. It remained dormant. He frowned and then continued his training, wanting some feedback from the black stone, but he knew he was still too weak.