How to Train a Sword of Life 4
I don't own FSN or HSDK
To remind everyone of when in the chronology we are, Shirou is 11, with six years until the Fifth Grail War. Miu is 10, with five years until she meets Kenichi. It has been four years since the Fourth Grail War. This chapter starts about two and a half months since Kiritsugu first visited Ryouzanpaku.
Ryouzanpaku dojo- Two months later
Sweat sizzled off of Shirou's skin as he swung himself over the small fire Koetsuji-sensei fanned beneath him. For the last half an hour, the young martial artist had swung from having his stomach exposed to the flames to having his back exposed. He switched positions whenever the pain from the fire got too much. A part of him thanked his teacher for using a normal flame and not one magically enhanced. He'd freaked out a bit the first time with just the regular fire lit under him. It didn't match the fires from his first memories, so he pulled himself together without too many problems.
While his core muscles strained at the position, he flexed his hands to see if the feeling had returned. Before the Roasted Squid Dance training, he'd been doing squats while holding jars filled with water. His sensei told him that continuing on after losing feeling like that should only be done when they could watch over him. Recklessness in training could be used if safety would not be sacrificed unduly.
Shirou kinda lost perspective on where that "unduly" fell, but followed their instructions as best he could. He trusted his sensei to guide him on his chosen path.
His extreme calisthenics almost finished, he mentally readied for racing against Miu-chan, then onto footwork and breathing exercises from Ma-sensei and Koetsuji-sensei, and finishing up with Shigure-sensei helping him better understand his weapons and their uses. Then dinner, and he finally had persuaded Miu to let him help cook. That achievement felt as satisfying as any of his martial arts accomplishments. She'd blocked him on that front with the same fervor he blocked Fuji-nee from his own kitchen, though for very different reasons.
"Ahh!" Shirou yelped as his thoughts returned to his training as the flames lept in heat levels, from harsh sun to roasting pit. 'Guess Koetsuji-sensei wants me to finish strong!' Shirou internally suspected. Pushing through the pain and heaviness of this worn muscles, Shirou struggled on. Dizziness consumed him once he finally finished to his sensei's satisfaction and was allowed to collapse on the ground. Shirou felt pride at not actually emptying his stomach when he plopped onto the grass. He had improved over last week's session. He still smelled and felt like roasted meat.
After sipping some sweet, cleansing water to ease his parched throat, Shirou slowly hobbled over to where Miu waited for him. Her smile, as radiant as ever, had more than a touch of challenge in it. Younger she may be, but in terms of fighting, she outclassed Shirou easily. Whether it be physically, skill wise, in experience, or in training, Miu held a large advantage over the slightly older boy. Those qualities even came through in their conditioning races, and he dreaded when his sensei actually got the two preteens sparring, for more than just the inevitable bruises to body and ego.
Koetsuji-sensei handed them both a small pack filled with sand and stones and the two preteens took off running. Shirou found a good rhythm soon, especially after so much practice, and tried to keep up with his nimble racing rival. She bounced, danced, hopped, and otherwise used the environment to her best advantage while he pushed and struggled just to run in a straight line at her pace. The breathing exercises that two of his martial arts sensei had taught as well as the magus techniques his father helped him keep that more even, and not gulping for oxygen.
Six laps later, Shirou dripped with sweat while Miu had a moderate sheen going. She definitely knew how to control her body's breath and movements to not overly exert herself. She also arrived to the finishing point ten minutes ahead of him and had time to cool down before he finally reached the end. He nodded with a tired smile at her joyously victorious expression, which he pleasantly noted still had no arrogance or malice in it.
He accepted his defeats at Miu's hands as the price for getting better. His sensei helped him realize what and how he needed to train to improve, and his abilities grew week by week. He'd already made it a goal to one day defeat Miu in a race and/or spar, fair and square. He didn't see that happening for at least a few years to maybe a decade, but he worked extremely hard towards that lofty goal. Though he really didn't know how their spars would affect their growing relationship as adoptive siblings, which shifted between awkward, endearing, happy, and annoying already.
It helped that Fuurinji-oji-san said that even the strongest opponent could be defeated with the right conditions met. Given some of the stories his sensei and his father shared with Shirou, it brought needed hope to combat the fear and despair of the monsters still existing in the world. Dead apostles, renegade magi, minions of Gaia, Counter Guardians of Alaya, and Satsujinken Masters all could decimate a sizable force of those lacking in either magic or ki. The path he walked had these as obstacles. Literal and figurative forces of nature stood as his adversaries and death a constant companion, no matter which path he tread…
'I've been listening to Koetsuji-sensei too much lately,' Shirou decided after he noticed his train of thought. Deciding to focus on his stretches, Shirou let the heavy thoughts slip away.
"559…560…561…"
As Shirou swung a newly forged katana, Shigure stood in his line of sight, though a bit to the left of where his sword swings would reach.
"Feel… the sword," she instructed.
He shot glances at her face, getting the gist of what she meant. The nonverbal communication they had bordered on empathy rather than telepathy. They understood each other's meaning rather than actual words. Shirou knew analyzing all those weapons she used as extensions of herself helped a lot with that. Using those weapons left impressions of Shigure in them to an incredible degree, to a level above the celebrated weapons he'd analyzed in museums even. He sighed at remembering how crushed he'd felt when he found that many of those famous museum pieces were, in fact, fake.
Though, on the bright side, Shigure started bringing back more weapons from people she defeated when going on her searches for her father's creations. It deflated his ego that all the secrets he could glean from them using Structural Analysis, she learned after one explanation, or sometimes before he'd even finished the explanation.
So now, he worked on making weapons a part of himself. Not just a tool or even an extension, but truly a part of himself. The training reminded him of the time Fuji-nee had brought a 1000 piece puzzle to do with his dad and him. They made the most progress by comparing things with the picture on the box. Shirou knew what the end result felt like, what it was when done right. It still required lots of effort but it was still better than starting from zero.
Shigure made it more difficult by ordering Shirou to do it without magecraft, just with his martial arts. Up until that order, he'd never realized he used his magecraft as a crutch for his martial arts. All his sensei stated that he needed a better foundation to make the most of his magecraft's mysteries. Once he'd learned to become one with blades, they'd use that as a springboard to learn as much from each blade as he could. Shigure still taught him skill and techniques, but most of those counted as basic exercises as well. Still, he felt closer to this sword now than when he had first swung it.
"… 565… 566…577…"
"Make sure the green herbs are almost over-steeped before adding the brown mix. That will help your father sleep at night."
Shirou grinned, "Thanks Ma-sifu. It'll be nice when Dad can sleep better."
Ma Kensei just waved the boy off, "It is best freshly mixed, though it should hold potency for nearly a week if made in bulk. We can work up to you learning the various herbal mixes that have subtle differences. Just keep the instructions in mind." The diminutive Master smiled, handing over a written copy of all the instructions he'd given Shirou. 'He really does pick up on these lessons better when presented as cooking recipes.'
The young student looked over the instructions, eyes skimming over the basics. He frowned, "What's this one for?" Kensei looked and saw him pointing at the last mixture on the list which, unlike the others, did not list its purpose, just the mixing instructions.
Kensei chuckled, "Must have gotten tired by that point." He took the paper and wrote down the rest of the instructions with a nearby pen. "This mixture is a mild muscle restoral. Best to take this after your daily workouts while cooling down. You should feel more up to cooking, which should help your father to stop lamenting the decreased quality in the meals you prepare."
Shirou smiled, "It would be nice to not feel completely wrecked at the end of each day." His expression turned thoughtful, "Would it help Dad?"
His teacher shook his head, "Your father's pains have little in common with those coming from a hard workout. Stick to these instructions until you learn more. Medicine improperly taken or given is often deadly poison, even as poison properly administered can save a life rather than taking it. Remember that."
Shirou nodded with determination. Kensei marveled at how well the boy listened to his sensei… well, except for those times Kensei tried to educate him on the beauties of the female form. 'Ah, youthful innocence.'
Miu smiled as she worked in the kitchen alongside her brother figure, who diligently sliced carrots for vegetable stew. The girl savored the feeling of having someone stand with in this daily activity. She only resisted initially so he wouldn't try to take it over her kitchen. She welcomed the help, but she still help pride in her skills and position as homemaker! Though it felt good to work with someone who understood the pain of having to take care of adults.
She finished chopping the potatoes and added them to the stew as well. Their shoulders brushed when she moved to check on the rice. She usually could dance around the kitchen without worry, being the only one there, and the challenge of working around her surrogate big brother made her both frustrated and happy. She couldn't cook or move around like normal, needing to make sure of his current position and actions before acting herself. This annoyed the girl as she didn't like to be limited. Shirou moved constantly as well, his style differing from hers, but they learned to work around that. The learning had actually been prompted by Miu reflexively throwing Shirou around if he approached her from behind.
Everyone said that they needed to change out that table anyway.
Her current happiness stemmed from their conversation. They didn't share what many would consider great thoughts or memorable conversations, but the sense of companionship warmed her greatly and kept a smile on her face throughout the preparations. Most of the words spoken she'd already forgotten. What she would not forget was how happy they made her feel.
Fuurinji Miu, at her core, was a lonely girl who wanted friends. Her grandfather had shown her wonderful scenes all over the world, but the closest people to her all eclipsed her in age a couple times over. Granted, she didn't know Shigure's age, but the swordmistress had to be at least 20. Shirou was her first real friend her own age, and she latched onto him, not wanting to waste the opportunity. He may not have known how to act as a big brother, but he spent what little time available to him with her. All the masters waited for the Emiyas to show up Friday nights, but Miu looked forward to it all week and could never repress her bright smile when the two walked through the gate.
He added the carrots to the stew and smiled at her, "So what's next imouto-chan?"
"Check the dumplings, please, the next batch should be ready to go in," she instructed.
He nodded and did his part in that and all the other preparations she asked of him. Miu felt a little bad bossing him around so much, but they were in her kitchen, her domain. Though maybe some turnabout wouldn't hurt…
She thought that over for a moment before turning to him, determinedly. Almost immediately, her bravado failed, but she still managed to get her question out.
"Onii-chan, do you think, maybe, that I could come visit your house sometime and help you cook dinner?" she asked shyly, staring down as she poked her index fingers together.
Shirou grinned, "Sure, you can meet Fuji-nee while you're there. Maybe even her grandpa, depending on the occasion."
Miu beamed back at him, "Okay!"
Shirou just kept smiling, not sure why she seemed so happy about that. That he seemed to make her happier was enough for him. He dutifully went back to preparing the next batch of dumpling. Dinner still needed to be finished.
Koestsuji Akisame grinned as he observed the hectic dinner scene of Ryouzanpaku, made more so by the addition of Kiritsugu and Shirou. Apachai's enthusiasm seemed to grow with the new company and it showed in how he tried snatch some of everyone's dinner. He stole from Shirou the most, as the boy had the least skill of the martial artists, but Apachai's gentle nature didn't want to hurt the sick Kiritsugu. Shirou started taking smaller portions, which he could guard more easily, and refilled often. This tactic did help against Apachai, as Miu had learned not to leave out everything, lest the gentle giant's enormous appetite devour everything before everyone could get enough.
Akisame noticed that the Elder smiled lightly at the Muy Thai warrior's antics, though he grimaced when his eyes crossed over Kiritsugu's steady gaze. The younger, sickly man ate slowly and methodically, with his eyes continually trying to catch the Elder's. Akisame wondered at the reason for that, as the Elder didn't usually shy away from challenges like that, not without acting out his childish side. 'Miu, this has to be about Miu,' he thought. Her life and happiness represented the biggest drive and also biggest weak spot in the man known as Invincible Superman.
As the group ate with antics ensuing, Kensei asked the Elder, "Any word from Danki regarding disciple sparring?"
The large man relaxed, though he showed an expression of distaste. "The fool kept acting like he couldn't hear and asking his granddaughter for food," sighed Hayato. He stroked his beard thoughtfully while absent-mindedly batting away Apachai's food snatching hands from his dinner. "His rivalry with us still seems rather important, though I can't remember why he didn't want to join in the first place."
Akisame considered that and asked, "Was he ever formally invited, or was it merely implied?"
The blond giant thought a moment and shrugged, "Don't remember. Pass the dumplings Shi-chan." Obviously trying to direct and divert the conversation. Keep attention off of himself.
Shirou handed the bowl of dumplings to the Elder. "So what should we do? Is there anyone else around who could be a sparring partner with weapons?"
Kensei shook his head, "No one who would make a good rival. I'll visit Danki next, try and get a measure of the man as he is now. Food and laughter will help him ease up."
Kiritsugu coughed lightly into napkin. As his doctor, Akisame happily noted no blood stains on it. He glanced at Akisame, "So, Shirou mentioned you will be accompanying us home this week?"
The Jujitsu Master nodded, "Yes, to deliver some special training weights that will help young Shirou-kun's growth. They would be hard to take all of them between just the two of you."
Kiritsugu paused, "How much weight are we taking over?"
"Roughly 250 kilograms total. Shirou should be able to take some of that while I'll carry the rest."
Kiritsugu just blinked. Shirou seemed ready to counter his father's protests of some of their more extreme exercises. "Okay, try not to crush anyone on the train." Shirou froze at the calm reply, then protested Apachi stealing his rice.
Kensei leaned over with a smile, patting Kiritsugu on the back, "Glad you're finally going with the flow here. Don't want to have too much stress with your condition, after all."
No one noticed Fuurinji Hayato slip away before he had left everyone's line of sight. Other than Shirou excitingly asking Miu if she could do that, most shrugged when they realized he was no longer there and continued, though Akisame did note that Kiritsugu looked upset the rest of dinner. Only questions from Shirou or Miu softened his expression.
"You didn't mention the weights would be statues, Koetsuji-sensei."
Akisame turned to Kiritsugu and explained, "These will help with mastering basic grappling. While Shirou-kun may not specialize in unarmed combat, he should have at least a basic understanding of other styles of combat."
His illness robbed Kiritsugu of the strength to do more than shrug at the Jujitsu learned doctor. The two man-sized stone statues that he casually carried under each arm disturbed the father less than the smaller one strapped to his son's back. His sweating, gasping son who strived to keep (the admittedly slow) pace with the older men.
A young family gawked as the trio made their way down to the train station. Kiritsugu recognized the hands of a gunman in the father, but relaxed when he realized they lacked any malicious stance. 'The atmosphere at Ryouzanpaku really is getting to me, if this normal family can set off my danger sense.'
Koetsuji glanced the family over as well, after the first few seconds, the mother fussed at the rest of the family to stop staring. The others appeared far more expressive in their emotions then Japanese society typically considered polite. He nodded a greeting, "Good evening."
The mother finally bopped her husband on the back of the head and hissed, "Darling, set a better example for the children. You are all being rude, and in a brand-new neighborhood too." Kiritsugu barely caught what she said, filling in the blanks by reading her lips.
The father jerked his head towards her and coughed nervously, "Yes dear. Kenichi! Honoka! Let's continue on. My apologies for our rudeness!" The man loudly stated, just shy of actually yelling. He bowed sharply and ushered the children down the street. His wife sighed and bowed as well, then followed after her family.
Shirou sluggishly glanced at the family, "Are we really that strange looking?"
Akisame shrugged, "Strange is relative. Humans are able to adapt to almost anything. I believe those that society calls normal would not be used to seeing us carrying these throwing statues as easily as we are."
Shirou nodded in acceptance and continued his determined steps.
As they sat on the train, Akisame started instructing Shirou on how to improve his memory. "Your father mentioned that your grades are starting to decline, so to optimize your time, while on the train, do these exercises. Imagine you are in your home and associate a fact, memory, or reminder to a place there. Every brick could be something different. The visualization is important, as is the consistent practice."
Shirou thought about that. "What happens when I run out of stuff to attach memories to?"
Akisame stroked his moustache thoughtfully as he stared down at his pupil. "Go bigger and smaller, if possible. Make your memory home bigger, organize things into smaller units. Use whatever method works best for you and how you think. That is the most important thing."
Shirou nodded, "Okay Koetsuji-sensei, thanks."
After visibly working on the technique for over half an hour, the boy slumped against his father beside him, obviously asleep.
Kiritsugu kept as much a watch as he could manage, so he didn't jerk in surprise when Akisame asked a question."
"Is Miu in danger?"
The retired mercenary assassin slowly looked at the other man. His default expressions consisted of serenity, humor, and passion. This stony expression didn't match any of those. Kiritsugu cocked an eyebrow. "Why would you ask that?"
Akisame narrowed his eyes, "You and the Elder are currently at odds, and Miu is the only thing that prompts the kind of reaction the Elder had at dinner."
Kiritsugu smiled lightly, "I'm returning a favor that Fuurinji gave me back when Shirou got the sales pitch for Ryouzanpaku. Mainly, magus knowledge and training for Miu. She has the potential."
Akisame nodded, and replied softly, "That would do it. The Elder would allow it if Miu wanted it, I believe, though he wouldn't give her the best impression of those that follow that path."
"Maguses walk with death, but everything I've heard from you Masters shows that you're not too far off from that line of thought." Kiritsugu coughed again, though slight flecks of red showed up in his white handkerchief. "Didn't you say 'All that is born must one day die' to Shirou?"
Akisame nodded, "Yes, though we do our best to fight death as well. That is also an aspect of living. But yes, death isn't something to fear, merely delay as long as we are able. I myself do not favor the magus philosophy at all."
Kiritsugu gave a wet sounding chuckle, "Nor do I. I've never considered myself a magus. More a spellcaster than anything."
Akisame nodded in acknowledgment, "So, what do you suggest regarding Miu and magecraft?"
Kiritsugu looked at him, "Whatever she wants to do with life, knowing how to use her magical circuits and the nature of the world could only help with that. If only to show her what she needs to avoid."
Akisame seemed to think on that. "And if she can't handle it?"
"You know the girl better than I do. Do you think she'd have problems?"
They sat in silence the rest of the train ride.
Emiya household, next day
Shirou tied a rope around the small tire borrowed from Fujimura Raiga next door, securing the other end around his waist. He then hefted the smallest statue and made sure it fit snugly inside the tire. Once the statue passed the wiggle tests, Shirou moved to the front gate and started a run down the sidewalk. He quickly realized the wisdom Koetsuji-sensei shared with him last night about people finding certain things strange.
Everyone on the street seemed to either stop and stare or try hard not to stare at him. 'Is this really that odd?' thought the young man. Then he shrugged it off. He didn't particularly care what they all thought and continued his run, the statue's weight keeping him from moving as freely as he usually did.
While he ran, he noticed kids his own age pointing and laughing at him. They didn't get in his way, but it made Shirou wonder just what was so funny about him running like this.
He managed a single lap around his block like that, the statue's weight adding additional challenges to the tire's drag. His prior training with his sensei gave him enough endurance and coordination to make it inside the gate before untying the rope and walking around to cool down. He only had two minutes to cool down before moving onto the next exercises.
None of his sensei took well to slacking.
So yeah, story is still going strong and not dead. Again, you have my lovely wife Anne Camp aka Obiquiet to thank for this. A bit later than I was going for, but needed to rework some scenes.