Description: The meeting of Hayato during an SNF has made Rick decide his new best friend, poor Rust, has to go meet the burning teacher of Taiyo to help restore the balding fighter's fighting spirit! On the bright side for Rust at least he doesn't get punched in the face!
It really might be that Rust has some of the worst luck in the world when it comes to wanting peace. Ever sense he ran into a drunk Rick Strowd there has been many a call from the Native American trying to get the older man to come along with him here and there with what he calls 'attempts to restore the fighting spirit'. This mostly has meant dragging Rust out to martial arts movies, to boxing matches, and almost anything else that makes Rust regret ever hitting Rick and getting the boxer to like him. It has gotten even worse now because Rick was waiting outside of Pacific today in person to grab Rust and whisk him away on more hijinx.
Tonight it isn't a bar or a fight or even watching a bad movie, though. Instead Rust might notice the path that is being traveled by he and Rick as they are heading towards Taiyo High instead. "Oh you will love this. I am telling you this dude is intense!" Sometimes Rick acts more like some hyperactive little kid than the near thirty adult that he is. He hasn't even had a beer yet and he has already become quite jovial and talkative on the way towards the other school. "I am telling you. If this guy can't help spark something in you then you may as well be dead." Rust might just wish he was dead at this point. He can only grin right now since he considers it luck in finding out Hayato was a nearby teacher as well so after the SNF where he and Rick fought there were some words, and a hundred dollars, exchanged when Rick told the Burning Teacher about a friend he is going to bring over to meet him.
School may be out for the day, but there's still plenty of students around, many of them there for various athletic activities. And so, of course, Hayato remains on campus. The Burning Phys Ed Teacher actually isn't the coach for any of the teams, but that's because /all/ of the ones that are really serious about their sport want him to help out. He knows training techniques for just about every sport out there, and he's great at getting students to acheive things they didn't even think were possible. Some hate him while they have to endure his training, but most end up being grateful when all is said and done.
Hayato didn't specify with Rick /when/ Rust would be getting brought over, and honestly he doesn't really mind. He's always happy to help. Like today, he's helping out the Taiyo American football team. Specifically, he's helping out the defensive linemen. How? By trying to break through them. And doing a pretty good job. As Rick and Rust approach, they might be just in time to see Hayato smash through three rather sizeable young men who were attempting to stop his charge. He gives them a moment to sit up so they can pay attention, then begins providing some pointers about leg placement and how to use their arms properly. With so many people running about on the fields he hasn't yet noticed the newcomers approaching.
The stories of the misadventures of Rick Strowd and Howard Rust are so storied and wild at this point that they aren't even logged. However, it would so happen that you, the reader, have not really missed anything. Well, maybe the one where they ended up having to run like hell while caught in the middle of a particularly eccentric construction firm's forklift drag race on a quest to deliver a folder to someone they didn't even know. That was pretty awesome. If it actually happened. Did it? The speculation shall continue to thrive on forever and ever and ever.
But all of them, fictional or not, always start with the poor man getting grabbed and whisked as detailed above. It happens /every/ time without fail. Some clever pitch for the grab that he keeps falling for, and then the split-second skilled whisk. So whisked, he doesn't even know what convinced him. And here he is now, mostly quiet, dragged along towards the largest high school of Southtown infamous for being a hive mind of burning spirit and those dedicated towards taking mundane, peaceful hobbies and turning them into ways to kill people. Something that disturbs him to the very core.
"I'm in the League!" ...and hasn't had a match. "I'm sparked! I'm... I'm sparked, just got... got a lot on my plate." Not enough on his plate to stop Rick from lugging him along. He's not a grinny-happy guy over the circumstances, but is otherwise powerless to turn away. Despite the circumstances, prior to all of this it has been a good day and a good walk, and hell, the knee that's been bothering him a lot more than usual's starting to get better. Ol' Rusty, despite being an inanimte object and thus not capable of doing what is described in the following statement, happily trails along on the shop teacher's left hip in its torn toolbelt pocket-sheath because it knows when its master's palm is going to itch for it to be drawn.
Although Hayato may not notice the newcomers, he may notice the sudden pop in the older of the two newcomers' shoulders as he tries to straighten up his posture upon coming onto school grounds proper. This straightening stops as the Rust man halts (should Rick actually allow him to) and he holds his left hand out, pointer finger forward.
"Hey... hey. You can't mean... Hot Blood Hayato?" Despite the conversation with Marisol he still thinks that's a stage name (which he reads a little too literally). Although he may put on a bewildered face, he kind of figured when they were going into Taiyo. Hayato's name is not an obscure one. Who else could it have been? It should be a great honor to meet him. It would be, in any circumstance! But this is through the lens of a guy he met in less than friendly conditions that is now treating him like his bestest friend in the whole wide world and can't get rid of for the life of him.
Oh the misadventures that may one day happen or may have already happened are so plentiful when you have someone like Rick who spends his days wandering about looking for the next big thrill or way to improve himself as a fighter. That is why he is sold on Hayato perhaps. That man packs such a punch and the way he plows through the defensive linemen only attests to the strength the teacher truely has. "You know em? You should have seen the fight me and him had. There was this weird ninja too, but who cares about that. Look at the way he instills school spirit into those kids!" he points and perhaps a better word might be fear in some cases. Not everyone is as crazy as Rick is when it comes to hitting or being hit in the facemeats or any other body part for that matter.
He raises a hand up high to wave and try to get Hayato's atttention though he at least waits to do so after he is done talking things over with the kids he is training. "Oiiiiiiii, I brought my friend!" he yells out loudly while hopping to the side and throwing his arms out to motion towards Rust. "Don't let the appearance fool ya. He looks kinda old, but he still can pack the punch. He just doesn't seem to have the will to throw down as much as he should anymore. I even told him his hair would start growing back because he would feel younger and invigorated!"
Hayato has time to finish imparting a bit more advice before he hears the call. He waves briefly in Rick and Rust's direction, then turns back to the students. "Okay, you guys go grab the offensive line and practice against each other for a bit." The players hustle off and Hayato begins walking toward the new arrivals. "Hey, Rick!" Hayato then turns his attention to Rust. "Name's Hayato Nekketsu. Nice to meet ya, pal." He extends a hand toward Rust which, while not a traditionally Japanese greeting, is one Hayato has grown fond of. There's plenty of Westerners in Southtown, and Hayato has picked up on the idea of a firm handshake as a way to get a feel for another man.
Fun fact, Rust here believed that claim about his hair. At least, until he started getting the idea to question Rick's credentials as a hair loss expert. It sucks when these realizations come moments before the point of no return. Is he that slow witted? Nah. When dealing with someone who has at least a moderately fast wit and a really strong arm, sometimes one ends up resigning themselves to it, until they think better of the initial resignation.
"I missed that--" He coughs once, covering his mouth with a closed fist as if though he were a Playstation era model and thus incapable of having his hand be any other way, and argh, what keeps getting in his throat, "missed that one." He did. His gaze follows the toppled kids. Spirit, huh. Some of them sure look like they aren't wasting time getting back up. Yeah, that probably counts for spirit. Or fear. Is spirit fear? He spends most the time Rick does calling and introducing by just rotating the recently poped shoulder, tilting his head a little to get a kink out of it. So sore. So stiff. That was a long walk. (Why is his neck sore?) It makes him appear somewhat more confident about this pitch than he really is. Not that he's entirely unconfident about it.
He's ready to bow when Hayato instead decides to extend a hand. Huh, works for him. He puts on at least a polite smile on that wide face of his and meets the hand with his own. "I'm Howard Rust." Hayato almost definitely has the stronger handshake, but his hand shall not be crushed easily! "I teach at Pacific... shop." The amount of strain in his gravelly voice is directly proportional to how much Hayato squeezes his hand. His hard, experienced, skilled, gloved working man hands - how do they measure to those of BURNING SPIRIT? "It's... it's good to meet you in person!"
Fast wit isn't really something has. A strong arm and spontaneous decisions he does have in abundance. He has just enough wit about him to make him look crazy instead of idiotic...well perhaps it can be mistaken as one or the other when you get down to it. Rick grins and adjusts his tanktop, thank god he is wearing a shirt for once, as he watches the two men shake hands. "What do you think of the old man, here?" he asks Hayato of Rust. Granted Rust isn't THAT much older, Rick still enjoys calling him old man for fun.
A large arm goes around Rusts's shoulders for a moment and he gets shaken about slightly before getting released. "Do you think you can do anything to help him out? I have tried a few things but it has only helped out a bit." he explains and then grins broadly. "I started looking into getting experts to help and you were the first one that came to mind. I was so lucky in meeting ya at random during SNF." Lucky for him, but perhaps unlocky for Rust depending on how all of this might turn out. "Is there any sort of training regime or something I should put him on?"
The friendly grin on Hayato's face doesn't falter as he shakes Rust's hand, so apparently he likes what he feels. Or at least isn't disappointed by it. "Shop class, huh? Good stuff! Learning is important and all, but it's good for the kids to get out once in a while and do some stuff other than reading textbooks." He releases his grip, then glances over at Rick as the boxer explains Rust's problem. As he listens he places his left hand on his chin, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "Training, hmm?"
Hayato looks Rust up and down. The shop teacher could stand to be in better shape, but Hayato can see that there's at least something to work with there. "Well, I can offer you all sorts of ideas to help tone your body and reinforce your skills, but Rick told me you need some help getting inspired to put in that effort in the first place. So for that, I guess the question is, what do you want out of all this?"
"I'm not even forty!" The teacher reto-- oh wait, there's two teachers here, maybe it's time to differentiate somehow... hm, right. Starting over.
The guy with the really bad combover retorts to Rick's continual insistence upon him being an old man. Even though his body sure speaks it. And that his birthday, the time of year where someone acknowledges they themselves are growing older and get a bunch of crap as some sort of condolences for it, isn't much more than a week away. He hopes very strongly Rick doesn't show up out of nowhere and drags him along on another adventure again on that day.
As the arm wraps around his shoulder, he ducks a little as if expecting for his shoulder to get squeezed again like back when they first met, that wasn't a gentle squeeze. Even for him, which says a lot. 'Training, hm,' Hayato says. The teache-- sorry, the guy with the bad combover nods once, yeah.
"It's... it's not NOT training," Rust shakes his head a little. "Most days of the week, after school... drive on over to the YFCC to help with their repairs," he says while pointing off in a direction the YFCC may or may not actually be in. If Rick's still got an arm around him at this point he's making sure not to point the direction that has the rest of Rick. "Get in some spars here and there... but, but my issue," he says as he turns his attention back towards Hayato, "making time. I'm in the League," and he hasn't fought, "I get in practice, more than I have for... hell I don't know how long it's been since, cine I've gotten as much as I do now, but damn," He taps two fingers against the opposite wrist twice rapidly, his wrist of the tapping hand making a little creak at the rapid movement, "this is what gets me. You got... you got the full day job like I do," if those football players are any indication, good ol' real American football, "you've got a hell of a fighting career, so..." the hand that was previously tapping waves around in a circular manner as if he expects to have conveyed what he means to, but speaks again anyway.
"What I want to get out of this, is... is whatever you're doing that lets you do both."
All Rust has to worry about on that special day is a pink cake being carted out to him and Dan popping out of it. Of course that can be one of many possibilites on that day if Rick finds out about it. Hopefully Rust is mindful enough not to mention it around the Native American or else things can go bad. REAL BAD. But hey, at least the arm is not around Rust's shoulders anymore and instead Rick has his arms crossed over his chest as he listens and nods as if seeming to agree with whatever Rust is saying. Of course he probably isn't listening to half of it since he has his own thoughts on what should be included.
"As you can see he needs alot of work, but if you can't do it then I guess it would be hopeless." the boxer surmises and he then grins widely. "Yeah, gotta beef him up and make his body have more stamina so he can do both things. He can't regain his fighting spirit with old rickety bones. We gotta toughen him up." Wait, isn't that just what Rust said? Oh Rick, you are so good and eloquent with words.
Hayato looks thoughtful for a few moments. "Well... You already /want/ it, so that's a good first step. Sounds to me like you need more energy! I can't force you to really feel it, but I can sure get you some more stamina. Here, hold on a minute. I'll be right back!" There's a gleam in Hayato's eye as he suddenly runs off toward the school building. It's a few minutes, but then he comes running back with a bundle in his arms.
Reaching into the sack he pulls out a round, cloth object that appears to have a number of square objects inserted around its circumference. "Arm and leg weights. Even just walking around with these things on is a great way to build stamina. And once you stop using 'em you'll feel like you've got more energy than ever before!" Suddenly, the weight slips out of Hayato's hand and tumbles to the ground. Not only does it land with a thud, but it leaves a noticeable dent in the field.
Wait for someone back at Pacific to ask about Rust's birthday in passing while Rick is in earshot. Just wait for it. It'll happen. "I'm, uh..." He thinks better of appending or correcting much of what Rick says, as it does cut into the heart of the issue, scratching the side of his head where the last bastion of the baldness resistance resides. "What he said." And what he himself said!
If Mr. Rust were to go and say 'hey, really, it's fine, thank you, I'll be on my way' that melts away with that gleam in Hayato's eye. He is not sure he likes that gleam. There are a lot of things about various peoples' eyes he doesn't like. Vince, one of his students, can make this horrifying ^_^ face that seems anatomically impossible and of which it gave Howard himself serious cramps in both eyes when he tried to mimic it. It wasn't pretty. The thought of what's in Hayato's eyes is enough to root him to the spot, with only enough allowance of movement to stretch out one of his legs a little, occasionally kicking at the dirt. If Hayato's going to share the secret to 'more stamina' given physical labor is something he himself does every day, well...
A few minutes later Hayato returns, which gets Rust to raise his head up and see what he's brought. What's in the sack, wait, what's in the cloth... 'arm and leg weights.' "Huh... reall--"
THUD!
He halts in mid-speech and slowly turns his head down. This isn't enough for him. He crouches down, hands on his knees, and squints his eyes. Is he challenging the weight to a staring contest?
"...That?" He points with his right hand. "Walking aroun--" he coughs again once, pointing that same hand back down to that little weight that is not a little weight. "Walking around with that?!"
The gleam doesn't seem to have the same effect on Rick. He seems more interested in seeing what Hayato has in mind to help Rust out and he is actually fidgeting some as he tries to figure out what Hayato might have planned for his fellow teacher. "See, I told you I had a great idea." he says while leaning over towards the rather horrified looking Rust before straightening back up. Brows raise though when the weights are presented and he looks surprised by such a tactic. He does grin when he notices just how much weight seems to be involved in this case.
While Rust is staring down the weights in a contest the boxer reaches down to pick one up without too much trouble. There is a bit of a grunt of effort which might make Rust worry even more if Rick has to strain a bit to lift one up at first. "Oh yeah, this might just work. If working while wearing these don't help then we might have to look for heavier ones." he muses aloud and then he outstretches his arm to let Rust grab onto the weight and hold it if he wishes. Of course there might be the disaster of him dropping it if he thinks Rust is going to grab it and can't support that weight as well as the boxer thinks.
"Heavier, well, I do have some, but we don't want his limbs to fall off, right?" Hayato laughs, then slaps Rust on the shoulder. "And don't worry. They might look a little heavy now, but you'll be fine once you've been wearing them for a while. Just keep 'em on all the time, even when you're sleeping. And once you get used to them, well, then you're already well on your way! Once you take them off you'll feel like Superman."
Hayato drops the sack then, which also makes quite a loud thump when it hits the ground. "In addition to that, I can write you up some food and drink tips. The right diet really helps to keep you pumped up. 'Course, that's just in general. If you really want to get perked up in the short term, there's some special mixes you can do for that, too. Not good to overdo those, though. The burn out's not pretty."
Lifting heavy weights is not a foreign concept to Rust here! His misadventures with a certain desk over at Pacific High is already a thing of infamy among its faculty members. But wow, wearing those day in, day out, just from the sound of that thud... and he's not a slight man!!
He lifts his head up as Rick there lifts one up. That grunt of effort says a lot already. And the suggestion. "Heavier?! I, ah... uh..." he clears his throat, sucks his lips inward before gritting his teeth, and decides to bite the bullet! Or two... or three... or four... well, just one for now, he takes the weight in his dominant hand and dips over with an audible, loud pop in one knee as his face contorts into the timelessly unmistakable expression of overexertion.
At least, until he manages to stand straight up. Slowly... ack! One eye widens comically as he takes a slap in the shoulder with the arm he's working with, dipping his grip but otherwise recovering it in the nick of time. This is his stronger arm!! It's heavy! Wearing these every day, all the time? That's insanity, how the hell is he going to be able to--
"Gckph!" He grunts at that new 'thud' of the dropped weights. This is one of them! Imagine all of them! "Ahhh.... yeeeeeeaaaaaah, Iiiiii..." His teeth clench. His face is flush, his brow drenched with sweat (and the combover made even more repulsive through the moisture). "Iiiiiii.... ah... agh!" He struggles for the quickest way to communicate his want for the eating tips! (He's an American, of course he eats horribly.) "Tips! Tiiiiiips!" He squeezes these words out while trying to keep his arm steady to hold the weight, because, well, holy hell. It's to the point he's willing his elbow not to bend. When the elbow bends of its own will, there will be a mess.
There is a loud, hearty laugh from Rick when he hears the words from Hayato. "Well at least he isn't too pretty to begin with so the burn out should affect him too well." he jokes and slaps Rust on the back as well. Hell, perhaps that is another way to gain stamina for the older man. Just stand there talking to these two for a prolonged time and take the slaps to the back when they come. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his white jeans while watching Rust struggle with the weight and he frowns slightly and lightly clucks his tongue. Perhaps this isn't going to work out so well to start out.
"Maybe you should start with the leg weights. You don't seem to be doing so well with the arm." he responds and he realizes Hayato mentioned some diet tips and the like for Rust to try. "He can still drink, right?" he asks looking a bit worried. He doesn't want to lose his drinking buddy, even if Rust would probably like that, even if it would be for the greater good.
Hayato nods at Rick's suggestion. "Yeah, most people find the leg weights easier to deal with. Legs are used to holding up the body all day long, so they can usually take a little extra weight." A little, he says. As for the question... "Can he still drink?! Of course! Hell, under the right circumstances alcohol can be great for getting pumped up!" And doesn't Hayato know about that. In his last SNF he managed to pull off drinking a beer in the middle of the fight.
Hayato watches for a bit longer as Rust struggles with the weights. "Now, the way I figure it, the best way to get started with these is to put 'em on, do a little bit of a workout, then get some sleep while wearing 'em. By morning you should already start to get at least a bit adjusted!"
Rust doubles over again as Rick slaps him in the back. Back in the day... hell, even today, he could laugh off a number of things. He can accidentally hammer a finger and not really feel anything. A staple gun can misfire where his hand is, at loss to only the staple. He can fall off a few stories and shrug it off easily. But the likes of dedicated fighters - the likes of which he aspires to be no matter how much of a front he sometimes seems to put that he's washed his hands of it - is a whooooole new league. One he'd have to get used to, one way or the other, eased in or not! And Hayato seems to pass this off as being easy!
His arm shakes to the point that he suddenly lets his arm and the weight drop down with a thud. The weight, that is. The arm can't possibly dangle down far enough to hit the ground with that same 'thud.' Yet. Maybe if it ever breaks off it'll go thud. Want to start a betting circle about it?!
Breathing in and out deeply, he's already feeling the weight of the day on him, occasionally raising his head up throughout the suggestions and exchanges that kind of go one ear and out the other with that throbbing sensation that goes through his arm and much of his back.
"Ahhheughk," goes the balding man as he realizes he's going to have to pick that weight back up - and he may very well be carrying the whole thing home, all the way, the entire walk... he snorts, grits his teeth, and lifts that first weight up with the same hand again, c'mon, you're not a softy, you're a man, you can carry this, right, right? This bravado might cost him dearly over the weekend.
And boy do his joints hate it /right now/. "Nnnn-- noooo drinking t-toniiiight," he strains out in a slightly higher voice than usual, his back singing over the stinging in ways only he can hear. "Iiiii.... Iiiiiii... aaaaaaaaahhh yeah! Yeah. Yeah." He's holding back that cough hard, all right. "Legs! Legs. Sure, I can... I caaaaann... agh!!"
He'd put them down if he didn't get the idea he'd have to carry all of them on the way back anyway!!
Rick would probably admit those weights would even give him trouble for the first day or two. That just goes to show Hayato is on a rather high level of physical prowess. Of course he also isn't the poor sap that is going to be carrying those weights around so he can laugh all of this stuff off. "No, I guess there won't be drinking tonight. A long walk home is in order, though!" he says and smiles as he pats Rust on the shoulder, it is even a light pat for once. Perhaps he is showing some empathy for the older fighter for once. Of course if he really felt sorry for Rust he would at least offer to carry them back or something. Then again that destroys the point of training!
"I'll just have to have a few for you then, tonight." he says and pats his stomach lightly. He then raises a hand and gives a lazy salute towards Hayato while backing away several steps. "Well thank you for the help, Hayato! I think this is a good start, but I have beers to drink and other things to arrange for Rust to help with his training." Oh lord, what the hell can he be plotting now. Then agian he doesn't stick around near long enough to allow Rust to ask what Rick meant when he said that, but he probably has a few good ideas what might be getting plotted in the mind of that Native American.
Hayato watches Rust struggle with the weights for a bit, tilting his head slightly to the side. "C'mon, you want this, right? Anything worth doing is going to take some effort! It may be rough at first, but you can handle it!" Those are the kinds of lines that he uses on his students, and most of the time he's right. Although, in this case... Well, Hayato claims no legal liability of Rust winds up getting a hernia or something, got it? "I get it, you're tired... But if you really want to have a fighting spirit, are you going to let something like that stop you?"
The grimace is more of a pained grin as his head turns right around the time of Rick's more gentle pat. This is not a 'that's right, buddy, ol' pal, don't wait for me,' this is a 'yeah, go do that and leave me alone so I can have a peaceful night's rest and maybe you'll drink enough that you'll forget I exist' kind of thing, but the two may be indistinguishable. Whether he'd be able to drag all those things back to Pacific in time /before/ Rick's done drinking, that's a toss up.
He snaps back to attention out of lightly malicious thinking when Hayato addresses him. 'C'mon, you want this, right?' Who asked him that not long ago? Nataya did... and what'd he tell her? He said he'd do it. 'Anything worth doing is going to take some effort!' He doesn't know about 'some' at this point, it's more like... a lot more! His weight shifts a bit to his left at the mention of him being able to handle it. Can he? He'd have to! At least tonight, if he's going to make it back to Pacific in one piece! Due to the collective strain, he can only think of one really committal gesture he can make under the physical stress and it's a nod. Or two... no, two and a half nods.
"Nnnn, nnn, nooooo sir!!" That last one's exclamation points come from when he has to crouch down and re-center himself again, knees cracking with discontent and he's pretty sure the elbow he tried to force to stay rigid and unmoving is, in fact, not going to stay rigit and unmoving. The arm lowers down to his side, but he holds the weight(s). At least... for now.
"Th... thhhhaaaaaanks, a, a, a, lot! A lot. A, a lot," he stresses the words several times over as his shortening breaths make it harder to squeeze out too many more words. He settles with a more traditional bow, at which point something else comes to his mind - who's the guy that brought him here? Who's the guy that convinced this guy to make the time to give him this admittedly painful idea?
He grunts lowly again before standing straight up again, eyes nearly clenched shut as though his eyelids wanted to strangle him for even thinking this sort of thing about the guy. Yeah. You know what. Maybe today, perhaps /just/ today he'll pay for the drinks in full, as he turns around and starts to slouch off like a weightlifting zombie towards the... oh wait where the hell is Rick going to go for drinks, he could be anywhere around Southtown. It's a crapshoot between going a much longer path to 'home' or finding a closer bar, getting a few drinks if Rick is inside, and getting a cab ride home.
Guess which one he takes. Then guess how it goes absolutely wrong. Whatever your guess is, it's probably completely right.
Log created on 18:11:04 10/02/2008 by Rick, and last modified on 21:57:08 10/02/2008.