AMSAL : AMBW

Come 4 Me

I was in a deep sleep when I feel something hit me in the face. I ignore it, maybe it was nothing. Then I feel it again but harder. I pop up and see Raiden standing there with a pillow in his hand.

"What the fuck Raiden?!" I yell

"Hurry up and take a shower. Today is your first day of training." He says then disappears into the closet.

I let out a huff and quickly walk to the bathroom before Raiden came out. I can't help but sense the coldness radiating from Raiden. He was obviously still salty for some reason.

~

"5....4....3....2....1."

I fall down onto the mat completely out of breath. Raiden is literally trying to kill me, I ask him to teach me the basics. Last time I checked pushing people into the splits and making them do 50 push-ups is not "the basics".

"Get up, you have one more set of punches to complete." He orders

"But I'm tired, we've been doing this for three hours now." I whine

Was he insane!?

"I don't care, let's go one set of 40 punches." He grabs my noodle like arms and pulls me up on my feet.

I adjust the shorts I was wearing and stand in the formation Raiden taught me.

"Set....Tul...Hana." He counts down in Korean and then I begin punching the air with each hand.

"Faster." He demands.

I roll my eyes and start punching harder and faster. My arms began to feel sore and my body was burning up even more.

"Fifteen more push Makena, push."

My stomach and arms were on fire right now. I began to punch quicker trying to get the pain over with.

"Done."

YES! Thank God, I dropped to the floor for probably the twentieth time today.

"There's lots of room for improvement." He says

I lift my sore arm and give him the middle finger, receiving a chuckle from him.

"Here."

Raiden stood over me with a water bottle, I quickly sat up and grabbed it. I began chugging the cool, refreshing liquid. It felt amazing going down, almost like it was healing my dry sore throat. I leaned against a wall while Raiden began to literally go Bruce Lee on a punching bag. Note to self, never ever get into a physical altercation with him. Maybe I'm not able to beat his ass.

We were in the basement of the home which was really big. They turned it into a gym-like room. Mirrors lined one wall and on the other side Exercise equipment was set up. They also had punching bags and long wooden sticks, I guess to train with too. The floor was covered in black padding which I was thankful for, since it made my landings somewhat soft.

"Who's the better fighter between you and your friends?" I ask.

He pauses his kicks for a moment to look at me, then continues.