Post by Goya on Sept 15, 2017 17:04:01 GMT
The unforgiving burn of lactic acid bit and pinched at the back of the hybrids legs, digging its cruel claws and tendrils deep into the teen's taut and muscular thighs. Bleeding agony with each footfall the young man strode as he dragged his body upwards, step by step up the seemingly endless mountain he desperately scaled.
Pointing to the heavens, the mountain shaped like a skeleton's finger speered the treetop horizon like a needle that stabbed through soft cotton. It's surface sharp, steep and entirely unforgivable, with no obvious pathway leading to its summit, scattered and obscured by the wisps of cloud that hid the very tip of the rocky pile and merciless peak.
Goya Komorebi grimaced in the midst of his struggle. The contours of his expression now chiselled by the stress of the teen's ascent pulled and tensed the muscles of his face, creating canyons of sweat beads that slithered from the crags of his despair, dripping from his profile only to pool on the man's bare chest.
His brows furrowed furiously over his blue gaze, that studiously sought the next step towards his goal. Desperately ignoring his own body's cries for rest from the journey, and to place aside the large heavy rock hanging like an anchor from his exposed torso, suspended via thick coarse ropes that wrapped around the young man's upper chest, back and shoulders.
Utilising the added weight to further strain his climb and intensify his vigorous training, the charring ragged surface of the straps abrasively scorched the teen's skin in a valley of welts and painful scrapes. Gravity toyed and teased at the added difficulty Goya carried. Making the cord grind and rasp at the sores, causing droplets of blood to pry from the blisters and trace along the man's firmed frame.
Digging his feet into the face of the needle-like mountain, the rocky surface dusted with sand and dirt, the whistle of wind chilled at the teen's back as his dark hair waved in the light gust that swirled around the craggy summit. So focused on his task, that even the sudden drop in temperature was barely noticed, his body baked in the heat of his energetic and impassioned venture.
Come on, he told himself, you're almost there. Closing his eyes, trying to extinguish the inescapable thirst to release his body from the self-induced torment Komorebi had enforced upon himself, the hybrid inhaled deep, filling his lungs with as much oxygen and as he did indomitable spirit. Releasing his held breath, the teen cracked open his blue orbs and reached his right hand up, the skin of his fingers and palm coarse and rough, split and ruptured by the path of his ascent.
Grabbing hold of the next crevice the teen continued on. The prize of his journey almost within reach. Goya had never pushed himself to these limits before. Until now, the makeup of his training regime mostly comprised of shadow fighting and cardio circuits, a mix of strength and endurance tests that didn't so much push the man to his limits as it did refine his growth.
Training without his mother's guidance had for the most part been an act in futility. Whilst certainly physically fit, the teen had become frustrated at the apparent lack of progression he had been making in the months and now years since her death. That stark reality now so unavoidable that in order to push himself on through the glass ceiling that had prevented his development, Goya needed a challenge that would redefine his training and ability.
Grasping the next crag in his climb, Goya hauled one last time, pulling with his taut arms that shook with exhaustion. The muscles in his powerful and flexed legs pulsed as he kicked off from their rest, using the momentum of his flight to drag himself up and finally reach the flatbed of the summit.
Landing on his chest, the teen quickly rolled over onto his back, sitting up and anchoring the heels of his feet into the ragged sands, before wrapping his firm arms and ragged hands around the rope that led back to the heavy rock still dangling from the mountaintop. Stilling his frantic chest with two calming deep breaths, Goya paused, drawing up the last reserves of his energies, before hauling the rock up.
"GRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH!!!" He screamed, pulling frantically hand over hand in quick succession until the bulbous boulder inched up over the edge and slid up towards Goya's feet where it rested. Panting breathlessly, Komorebi let go of the line and leant back, belatedly backwards onto his elbows as he rode the wave of energy, adrenaline, rigour and anguish that had taken control of his core.
Exhaling and inhaling with earnest vigour, the teen let the agony of his climb gently drain from his weary form. Only then noticing the beautiful scene that he had discovered by accident as he looked out over the horizon, peering across the treetops of the Bamboo Forest, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Punctured by the occasional similar needle-like peak much like the climb he had just conquered.
"Wow," he voiced softly.