My arms ached.
Every motion felt like dragging the sun behind . Genzo didn't speak much during training—he just moved, and I followed. Or tried to.
The clearing behind his house had no clock, no bell, no signal of ti passing. Just light and shadow, breath and silence. I swung until my fingers bled. I fell. Got up. Fell again.
Genzo offered no praise.
But he didn't send away, either.
That, I decided, was sothing.
***
On the third day, he finally spoke while I was catching my breath.
"Your body's weak."
"I know."
"Your form is worse."
I looked up. "Is this encouragent?"
"No. This is truth."
He handed a narrow gourd—the surface worn smooth from years of use, and sat beneath a low pine, arms crossed. "But your feet move like they've done this before. Your reflexes know sothing you don't."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
I sat beside him, spine burning.
"Did you ever see things?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
"Before you started training. Dreams. mories that weren't yours."
He was quiet for a while.Then, "I saw myself die once."
I turned to him.
"Wasn't a nightmare," he continued. "Wasn't a vision. I was standing in a field—real field—and suddenly, I was lying in it. Blood in my mouth. Sword broken. Soone else's voice in my head."
He stood and picked up a staff from the ground.
"Didn't understand it. Still don't. But it taught not to ignore what cos knocking."
Before I could ask more the wind shifted.
And the crows went silent.
***
The first one ca out of the trees.
Not floating, like before. This one walked.
A full body, draped in shadow and bone-like armor, mask painted with inked kanji—warped and unreadable. It didn't rush. It didn't roar.
It knew it would be feared.
Genzo picked up his sword.
"Stay behind ."
I didn't. I stepped forward.
The thing tilted its head, noticing for the first ti.
The thread shimred—faint, barely there—between it and .
This one was older. Hungrier.
It struck.
Faster than I expected. Not a spirit anymore. Sothing more solid.
Genzo t it mid-charge. Steel against mask.
I tried to move, to help, but sothing in my chest twisted. My vision stuttered.
For a mont—just a breath—I saw myself through its eyes.A boy glowing with sothing ancient. Sothing buried. And behind ... flas. Dozens of threads stretching out behind my back like wings.
Then it was gone.
Genzo shouted, breaking the vision.
I swung my staff clumsily at the creature's side. It flinched.
Then Genzo's blade split the mask down the center.
The body collapsed into smoke and ash.
We were both breathing hard.
He looked at differently now.
"You're not just haunted," he said. "You're carrying sothing with you."
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