Training?

[A/N:

Sorry for the constant lack of uploading, but I have officially moved across (not all the way but pretty far) the US! All the way from Idaho to Arizona, and I really underestimated the summer heat I would be facing. This however has not stopped my will to continue writing, but now I will definitely be busy trying to find a job, and in a few months, I will also be going to University, which is fun.

These chapters might be shorter because of them not being the main portion I want to get to, but they do contain some details that I would like to get across between this moment and the moment the RWBY canon picks up.

And just so everyone is aware, I may have put him into the 'training' mode, but he will not be OP at the beginning. Because of how the aura system in my novel works, obviously based heavily on real RWBY aura but with my spin, he will not actually get any 'stronger' until he unlocks his aura and Semblance. Those that pay attention might pick it up, but that's all I care to say about it for now. Peace]

"Training?" It has now been two days since I turned 6 in this world, and I was finally taken into the shed we had in our backyard by Maxwell. Or at least, that's the best I could call it because it looked more like the outside of a traditional Japanese building. Hell, it even had tatami mats, which honestly got the inner otaku in me very excited. I wasn't much of an anime man on Earth, with everything that happened to me how could I be? But I ended up watching a lot of it with friends whenever I was over, or whenever they would come over, and I had always wanted to be in one of these buildings. I had honestly thought it couldn't get any better, but once we stepped into the building I was instantly proven wrong.

"Yes, training. You know about the Chrono-Bravery that runs through your veins, and since our family hasn't been able to find a way to counteract it our solution for generations has been simple: we train until there is nothing we cannot do while in Chrono-Bravery mode." As my father was talking, he was slowly walking to a corner of the, admittedly big, dojo. Yes, dojo, as in straw dolls at one wall, another filled with a large variety of training weapons, from clubs to halberds, all of which were wooden.

"Your mother and I didn't want you to start your training until you were 8, and even then it would have just been light exercises around the yard until you were ready for more in-depth training. I know most children go to combat school or regular school, but we had planned early on to homeschool you in everything." With a few shells dropped on me, he showed me to a room with a couple of stalls that I can assume were for changing, because hanging on the door of three of them was matching hakama, of varying size and shape; from the fact, there are three of us in this household, I could figure out the small one was mine.

Not going into the changing stall for his, Maxwell took off his clothes until he was wearing his boxers, and I was not prepared for what I saw. I normally only ever saw my father in his clothes, so I had no idea that he was as ripped as could be. Yes, he was visibly muscular through his shirts, but this was beyond just muscular; it was as if every fiber of muscle in his body couldn't be more perfectly made for combat. Adorned across these bulging muscles were numerous scars, some more prominent than others, which told tales of how much he has been through.

Copying how he put on the hakama to the letter, I was wearing an outfit that I never thought I would have the opportunity to ever wear, and I was honestly a little giddy.

"Instead of what we originally planned, we're going to speed it up a little. This doesn't mean we'll rush anything, but we'll only push as hard as you're able to go. How does that sound?"

"How does that sound? It sounds amazing! I've always wanted to be able to fight, and after the alley, I wanted to know how to do what you and mom do, so I'm excited! I know you already gave me an amazing gift, but this is honestly the best gift I could have asked for!" And even if my words sounded a little over the top, they were all genuine. With sparkles in my eyes at the thought of being able to learn how to fight in the world of RWBY, with dust and aura and semblances, I couldn't wait! With a smile on his face, my father happily went over to the wall with all of the weapons.

"Since you seem so excited, and you are as healthy as we could ask you to be, we'll start simple." After saying this, he tossed me the wooden club, and as I caught it he took a wooden sword from the wall for himself. "I want you to use that, and try to hit me."

After he said this, I faltered. "Are you sure? What if I do manage to hit you?" Of all the reactions I thought I would get, Maxwell's wasn't one of them. It was light at first, but as the seconds turned into a minute or so he began laughing louder than he usually does.

"Son, if you can hit me at this age with a weapon you're unfamiliar with, then we might as well make you a certified Huntsman on the spot!" After this, his laughter became more boisterous, probably loud enough for mother to hear, and it was really starting to annoy me. I know he is strong, but there's no reason to boast that much. And so, while he was busy laughing with his head held up and eyes shut, I tried my best to rush him as quietly as I could. With my club held like a baseball bat, I got in striking range, but as my club was mid-swing, the laughter stopped, and I could only see the ceiling.

"Distracting me, huh? Not a bad idea, but you'd have to be about 10 times faster before you could even dream of hitting me with that tactic." With his normal fatherly smile, he grabbed my outstretched hand, picked me up, patted me off, and gave me the club again. "Again!"

And so I did. Over, and over, and over again. Repeatedly for the next hour and a half, and I can now confidently say that I have never been so sore in either of my lives! Every muscle was screaming at me, and I could barely stand with the club supporting me.

"Alright, that's where we're stopping for today." To this, I finally gave in and just slumped onto the floor, not even caring about whether I would land on my face or not, though I was sure Maxwell would catch me if I did fall forward.

"Finally! I know I said I wanted to learn, but this was almost torture!"

"Well we had to start somewhere, and this is some of the lightest stuff I know to get good results."

"THIS is LIGHT?!" Once again laughing at that, he picked me up and started bringing me out the door opposite the house, where 4 doors were. With there being two for females and two for males, he brought me into the very right-most door, where once we entered I could see several tubs and a machine in the back that gave off an ominous cold feeling. I had heard that there were several methods for sore bodies and athletes and fighters would often use one of these, and that was - "Ice baths?"

"Oh? I guess the surprise element is gone, but at least you won't be able to fight your way out of them." With those ominous words, he took off my hakama, put me into a white bathrobe, and after he inputted something into a screen on the machine in the back the bath closest to the door on the right fills up with ice. And without a word of warning, he unceremoniously drops me into the smooth, rounded, tiny balls of ice that covered me to my neck.

When I say this shit was cold, it was COLD! It was so cold I couldn't even make any sounds or words of protest come out of my mouth. It was only after the first 5 minutes and Maxwell going into his own on the left side of the door that I finally started to get semi-used to it. Did it feel good? Not really, at least the cold didn't feel that good. My muscles were feeling much better though, but that wasn't a hard quota to fill when I couldn't even raise my arm earlier.

Soon enough, my mother shouted something about lunch, which caused my stomach to loudly rumble. Finally being able to move, I got out of my ice as my father did the same, and with him using a button at the front while I was changing both tubs emptied of all moisture and ice, looking like there was never a bath in the first place.

As we entered the house, I could see the cheerfully sitting figure of Amelia, but when she saw the way I was barely able to walk she instantly stood up. "Max! I thought we agreed you would go easy on him!"

Raising his hands and explaining how I wanted to learn more than they thought, I began to greedily eat like the food would run away at any moment. Ignoring the squabble that was occurring behind me, I began to think of the future. While I was getting my ass handed to me, I realized that I wasn't sure exactly how strong the people of Remnant were, especially the main characters of RWBY. Because I know they are stronger than most, but what exactly is the bar here? Are we talking about being able to anticipate where a shot bullet will be to block it, or able to fully dodge a barrage of bullets?

And on top of that, it seems there were a lot of villages, cities, and people that RWBY was never able to portray. Honestly, this was perfectly fine, but this also meant that there could be other factors, like the strength of Salem and her people, or even their numbers, that weren't able to be shown properly. Most of what we saw were characters like Cinder and Neopolitan, who had a recurring presence and story-wise had strong reasoning to be basically wherever Ruby or RWBY was.

Honestly, a lot of the later volumes were fuzzy in the same way that canon events were for me, and this can be said for how certain characters looked or where they were or would be. Like Cinder, Adam, or Roman; I couldn't exactly remember how Cinder looked, nor where she would be, but Adam and Roman I could remember how they looked, just not where they would be or exactly what they would do.

'This is so frustrating! My memory has never failed me, so why is it choosing to do so when it comes to some of the most important parts of this life of mine?!' It might have just been my frustration being magnified by the pain in my body, but I soon got over it. If I couldn't remember it, then there was no point in worrying about it.

How bad could the loss of these details be?