Break [Private]

Shiruko Makoto

Head Lorekeeper
Staff member
Oct 7, 2012
6,442
Yen
48,140
ASP
1,178
OOC Rank
S
It wasn't fair.

That was the chief thought in Makoto's head. It wasn't fair. All right, so maybe there were a few more expletives, and an awful lot more intensity, but still. That was the gist.

He stormed out of his room, down the hallways, out the door, trying desperately to ignore everyone around him. It was easier if he didn't focus on anyone, but that didn't mean it wasn't a riot of his new sixth--seventh?--sense whenever he got near someone. He tried to filter it, to block it out...

The phoenix had suggested that perhaps he was in this state because he was attempting to get in touch with his emotions while he lacked a core, and that he had ended up with an empathy core due to that, which was causing him to be even more pissed off. Yes, when put like that, it did sound obvious. He should have been doing literally anything but that...

Empathy was a liability. Especially this uncontrolled sort. He couldn't even seem to filter it...

Fuck me, he thought for the umpteenth time. Fuck this. Fuck everything.

He didn't want to be overwhelmed by people's emotions. He didn't even want to deal with his own, usually...

His footsteps guided him to the training building, where there fortunately wasn't anyone. Good.

His hands went to his pockets and he slid on his gloves. His brain seemed to entirely disengage as he set up the practice targets for punching. He needed something a little more visceral than his usual weapons training, something that didn't put a length of titanium between him and the targets.

He wouldn't get into trouble and wouldn't actually hurt anyone except himself doing this, too.

The second he got everything set up he let loose. Not even bothering to take his customary temporary break or to step back and take a breath for a second, he immediately launched himself at the first target and started pummeling it furiously. No jutsu, he didn't have that level of focus; just hitting and hitting and hitting while his anger bubbled and boiled.

There was fire in his hits, then, something he barely registered. His anger seemed to have called it up, maybe because he kept thinking of it like burning. All the while he retained a litany of swears and anger in his head while he furiously pummeled the targets with flames.

The phoenix was trying to get him to calm down, but he wasn't even trying to listen. No, fuck this, fuck him, fuck the damn bird and everything in the world, the last thing he wanted to be was a damned empath, on top of every fucking thing--

He hit the bags again hard and the flames exploded.

He backed off, breathing heavily. What the...

There were scorch marks all over the punching bag. He glared at it, as if it were at fault for the unexpected reaction, but his anger was rapidly receding now with his energy levels dropping. He simply couldn't keep it going much longer.

It was exhausting.

He rubbed at his hands absently. The explosion should have recoiled on him if he had really just been pushing his chakra too hard. Then he froze and lifted them up. Along with the dying red-orange light of the fire, there was a glimmer of brownish-green embedded.

All right...so I was so angry I decided, on some level, to make actual explosions by adding earth chakra...?

He flopped onto the floor of the training room, not caring for once how it would look if someone found him there, head pressed into his knees with his arms crossed over it. Let them assume what they would. He was in crappy emotional shape, after all. Let them just see. All the anger and energy was drained from him and he really didn't have the ability to go anywhere.

Everything keeps going wrong...I'm so tired...just going to rest here, for a bit...

[Topic Entered/Left; 30 Min S-Rank]