Chapter Text
Your hands were folded behind your head as you laid on your back against the wooden floor. It creaked every time your chest expanded, each breath was sharp at first before slowing.
After hours of attempting to mimic the man in your dreams, you were often left exhausted. It didn’t sound like much of an achievement but exhaustion was a few steps above how you had been when you’d first started. Attempting to follow his movements had been daunting at first and your progress had been excruciating. Muscles strained, lungs burning and accidental stab wounds from your sword.
Back then, you were lucky if you could follow him for 30 minutes.
His movements were elegant and refined where yours were rough and stiff—it felt as if you were doing him an injustice by even attempting.
Crickets began to hum beyond the wall, you reluctantly sat up and took in the sight of the orange painted sky as it trickled into darkness.
Yet another day had passed.
The gate surrounding the house was locked. All the chores had been completed before you had even begun your training, all that was left was to await sleep.
Gesturing at Moon, who was resting at your feet, you beckoned him as you stood up and began to walk inside, “Come on, boy. Let’s call it a day.”
Moon took his time, as he usually did. After a lazy stretch, he followed.
You shut the door before routinely placing a wooden bar across it. If a demon really wanted to enter, the wooden bar would be more useful as a noisemaker rather than an actual method of security. That was a hard lesson you’d learned many years ago.
After taking off your ragged, training clothes, you slipped on a faded, well-worn dress before slipping under the futon. The fabric was thin against your skin.
It wasn’t until you felt the weight of Moon slumping down at your feet that you shut your eyes—eagerly awaiting to see the man with the hanafuda earrings.
Moon shifted slightly before his body stilled, only then did your breathing begin to slow and the weight of the day faded away. At first, it was the ache of your muscles, then the hardness of the floor, until eventually your very being had dispersed.
You’d been frightened when the sensation had first overcome you. The disappearance of your very existence, even temporarily, had been distressing. But now you know what comes after, or rather, whom.
There he was in all his glory. He had been waiting for you, like he usually did, before he would start his dance. There was no need to look at his face anymore, after all the years, every wrinkle and feature had been engrained into your memory. What mattered was his movement. The way he held his crimson sword, his stance before each swing and most importantly, his breathing.
It had taken years to figure out that it was his breathing that was vital, his speed and strength were unrivaled and you had long accepted that you would never reach his level. As you felt the soil beneath your feet, your eyes remained locked on the man before you. Tonight would be the night he would perform his first movement. He always went in order and whenever he reached his final form, he would start from the beginning the next night. This had transpired over your whole life and he had never once broken this routine.
However, his stance was different. It looked as if he was preparing to slice his sword across instead of the usual downward strike. A cool sweat flushed through you as you watched with anticipation as he gracefully sliced horizontally before tilting his sword and repeating the action. Heat blasted towards you and you squinted, watching as he repeated the same action over and over again, each movement identical to the last. Your heart began to race as he continued.
This was unfamiliar.
Why had he changed his pattern after years of sticking to the same process?
Your thoughts must have been written on your face because he suddenly stopped, holding his sword beside him in one hand and his scarlet eyes landed on you. His sharp gaze made your spine straighten, you forced yourself to meet his eye. Something unvoiced solidified within you. The price for your ignorance had been fatal in the past.
You weren’t going to make the same mistake twice. Why you needed to perfect this particular form was an answer you needed to find—and soon.