Hayate didn't often visit the weight room. He didn't really need to, after all. His style of fighting relied more on speed and chakra control than strength. But he did come down every once in a while, because neglecting any aspect of training was stupid. He liked to think he wasn't stupid.

It was fairly close to dinner, and he was mostly certain the place would be deserted. He was a little surprised when he saw another agent there: a young man working away at the bench press. Hayate started to slip off to the side, wary of disturbing the man, but a second look made him hesitate.

It looked like he was starting to struggle with the weights. He was working alone, so maybe he could handle it, but...

That was more effort than it should take. Hayate nipped over, just a few quick steps, and lent a hand. And a little chakra, that was heavier than he'd thought.

"You okay?" The question rasped badly, and Hayate cleared his throat belatedly.