Leaping over twigs in the ground, ducking under stray branches, and jogging at a brisk-ish pace, Yoruichi makes it through her warmup a good minute or so off tempo.
Doubled over, panting, it takes her a few seconds to catch her breath. Fighting back up to a stand, it takes a lot of willpower not to quit right then and there. Turning away resolutely to some hefty rocks and putting the sweet, sweet taste of sugar out of her mind, she gets one in each hand and starts to lift one, then the other, then the other.
*****
"Twenty-Three..."
"Twenty-Four...!"
"Twenty-Five!"
Sore, weak, and shaking, Yoruichi feels the make-shift dumbbells roll onto the ground with heavy and heavier gasps for air shutting down all the wimpy excuses she'd built up in her mind.
Collapsing onto her back, her spaghetti arms and jelly legs spread out wide, she looks blearily to the sky as it spins and pitches away. Trying to move, failing horribly, and then giving in to the to-the-bone fatigue, she's there for minutes and minutes and minutes. Virtually crippled by the basic sets of minimal reps, all she can do is reel while the sun keeps passing by overhead.
*****
Limping, dragging, and jogging very, very slowly, Yoruichi makes it back to her clearing just as the sun hits noon. Plopping on her butt, she leans over a cool stream and splashes water into her face.
Opening her eyes, trying hard to shake it off, she self-consciously looks vaguely over reflection for any signs of fat. When there is none, she just slumps over and lets her tired mind run over the possibilities of today's workout. Poison was the first thought, yet nobody had come to strike when she was down. A dream was the next, but everything felt too real. Dozens of explanations for how one of the strongest, speediest, and sassiest Soul Reapers was left utterly winded by a basic warm-up reeled through Yoruichi's brain, but, somehow, someway, in all of her thought, in all of her memory, the two strange cupcakes never came to mind.
Well, at least, not as explanations...