"Eh...Is that so?"

"What, too difficult for you?" Hisaishi bit back sarcastically. "A short twenty minute jog. Fifty push-ups, thirty squats, and fifty sit-ups today. Then twenty minutes of horse stance. No more, no less."

"...no ma'am." He quietly gave her a bow and went to do what she had asked. Her training grounds, like most cultivators, resided in a mountainous region, and so any pupils would have had a wide space to do their exercise.

And don't head past the waterfall. That's where my booby traps are. You aren't ready for those. I know you can't see it, but with that hearing of yours it should be no problem detecting its presence.

Gyomei for one, was slightly puzzled as to why they were not doing something more along the lines of swinging weapons at each other and learning forms. Is that not what fighters did? There was a kendo dojo in the town near the temple and that's what he heard every time passing the building, the clattering of wooden swords, feet shifting on mats, wrestling to tip the balance of the blades which were themselves involved in their own aggressive waltz. And Hebiyama-san did use a long rod as a weapon, so obviously Hisaishi did not teach with swords, but he expected them to at least do bo staff sparring.

He didn't question Hisaishi, despite his confusion. She was older and definitely knew more. This must be an important part of training if she assigned it.

"Ah-Kaigaku." He felt the boy grab onto his trousers at the door. "You can't come. The sun will burn you. Tzzzz" Gyomei made a small " sizzle" with his mouth and motioned with his hand.

It would be better if you didn't tell him that.

"..." He reached his hand out to grab the boy's arm. But whatever feeling he had in that moment had evaporated, and Gyomei ended up giving him a light shove into the shade of the house instead.

"Stay here, alright?" He gave him a smile.

Kaigaku watched in confusion as the man closed the screen door behind him.

He had the mind of a child right now. But even a child can tell when an adult looks at them with such absolute disdain it can be as if they're looking at a piece of trash. The mustered smile Gyomei gave him after telling him to stay was not much consolation.

He was confused at what he was feeling inside his stomach at the moment. But whatever it was, it was not good.

Had he done something wrong?

Nevermind. The boy was too tired to think on it. He returned to the dark bedroom and flopped under the futon where his sister already had sunk into a coma-like state.

Hisaishi watched her student since she had nothing better to do. Sarumei might have sent over a torn-up mutt of a trainee, but having someone else on the grounds was more entertaining than her days alone in that house, when the only excitement came from the occasional visit of a good-for-nothing former pupil who would always smell like marijuana and loose women. Even if this kid arrived in a hopeless state, at least he was a good kid. No yelling, no drugs, someone who always deferred to her and never talked back. The first day he had recovered, he even offered to assist with housework. She rebutted him sharply. But the offer itself won her favor.

Suzue was not a hard-to-please person. All she wanted in her retirement was to have time for tea and daifuku. She didn't expect to cultivate slayers of the highest caliber as long as they could decently chop heads and survive more than two years in the field. However, the breath of stone's population had waned. In her last 5 years, the only pupil she managed to obtain was one very unpredictable loose nun.

With the advent of concealed carry regulations with blades, it remained easier for slayers of other breaths to conceal their smaller katanas under a haori than it was for Stone breathers to conceal their long polearms and spears. That, combined with the often grueling training rituals caused the style to decline in popularity among new recruits. Some suggestions have been made to evade concealed carry inconveniences, such as the introduction of folding weapons, or disguising them as something else, such as theatre props or everyday tools. This was easier to do in rural regions than cities, where the intense crowding made carrying such an instrument highly risky. In fact, one of the reasons why Sarumei was largely spared of inconveniences was because her weapon, a spade, could also be seen as merely a normal farming implement.

Even with the new suggestions and attempts at engineering, folding Breath of Stone weapons were still in their prototype stage, and most ended up not being able to hold their shape in more intense battles. This especially irked Tecchin, who took this inability to maximize the function and convenience of such long-range weapons as an insult to his and the other swordsmiths' competence.

The twenty minute jog was not too bad compared to the thirty minutes he ran that day. Suffice to say, it was not enough to prepare Gyomei for the sheer agony of core workouts. How do people survive this? With Hisaishi correcting his form every three seconds, he only managed ten proper push-ups in an hour, and his innards had already started to burn.

"40 more to go, get on it. Remember, no moving your back-keep it like a plank."

He tried on his own, to no avail as he always seemed to buckle when pushing back up. Gyomei heard Hisaishi entering the house again, so he rolled onto his back and let out a deep exhale.

"I must look really pitiful right now."

"Mraow."

"Hm?" The young man grunted as he rolled over. "Come again?"

"Mraow..." Something soft started to rub against his arm.

"Ah. Must be nice to be a cat then. You don't have to worry about anything, do you? You don't have to worry about being good enough." He sighed and sat back up. "Perhaps I'll try again." He got into a plank and was about to push up, until the cat leapt onto his back, settling in a loaf.

"H-hey-"

Shit. There is no way he could disturb it right? That would be the worst thing to do in the world, a greater sin than committing murder or even tax fraud. He would surely go to Avici for inconveniencing such an adorable, fluffy, precious creature.

And so, Gyomei had to raise and lower his body as stiff and slow as possible from now on. His arms vibrated rapidly from sheer effort, and his stomach strained until he was about to vomit. But any burning muscle was incomparable to the shame of disturbing a cat in rest.

Hisaishi came back out after a quick snack to find her new disciple facedown on the ground.

"Tired already?" She let out a small chuckle.

"Sorry." With some effort, he heaved himself up. "It's just...I couldn't change my position until the cat decided to stop laying on me."

"A cat?" Hisaishi's chuckle soon turned into a full on guffaw. She had to support herself against a tree to keep from falling over. "A ca-You kept it up for a cat?"

"Is it that funny?" He cocked his head, not knowing what to say. "It wouldn't be nice to disturb it."

"Alright, alright, I'm done teasing you." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I guess it's not bad, seems like you managed to finish your first exercise." A small but firm hand landed on Gyomei's shoulder as he could sense knives poking out of her jovial tone. "Now for the other two"

The sit-ups were the least worst of what she demanded of him. The horse stance was the opposite.

"You're lucky you're doing normal horse stance today, usually I'd have my students do it on hot coals. Sarumei can tell you." Truly, Hisaishi seemed like a bit of a sadist, as she would whip his legs with a long rod if they started to falter from the proper position. She might be small and a bit of a casual person, but that makes her scarier, huh? Himejima thought to himself while the other half of his mind mustered his body to stay still.

I need to concentrate better on this.

He slowly zoned out on her words and the sounds of wood slapping against his skin. Instead of the training ground, he could feel himself to be back at his temple.

"Hey sensei..."

"Yes Matsu?"

"How do you win at every hide and seek? You're really tall but every time you hide behind a blind or a tree, and you're so still it's hard to notice you. How do you stay so still? You're really skinny so wouldn't the wind blow you down? Wouldn't you shiver from the cold?"

"Well..." The taller silhouette bent to kneel down in front of the boy, pointing an index finger to his forehead. "It's the concentration."

"Concentration?"

"I repeat a sutra again and again in my head, and if I use it to remind me to stay still, I can concentrate a lot better. I can put all my effort into not moving a muscle. And then-" he withdrew his hand. "I'll be just like a rock."

"A rock?"

"You can do it, too, you know, if you find a favorite sutra and practice."

"I can be the best at hide-and-seek then?"

The larger one couldn't help but laugh quietly. "Yes...yes you can. Only if you don't tell anyone." He put a finger to his lips. "It's our secret, ok?"

"'K." Matsu mimicked the gesture and let out a loud shush. "Our secret."

Namu Amida Butsu.

Whack.

He molded his stance to the direction of her rod and went over it again in his mind.

Namu Amida Butsu.

This is the way she wants you to stand. Every time you recite it you have to keep it this way.

Namu Amida-

Whack.

His left leg had faltered slightly. He steadied it again and continued to recite in his head.

Namu Amida Butsu.

Namu Amida Butsu.

Namu Amida Butsu.

He had not noticed, but the whipping gradually began to become less frequent. Eventually, the twenty minutes of a proper horse stance were up, and Hisaishi had to shake his shoulder a bit to break him out of a nearly catatonic state. "Hey...you there?"

"Uh!?" He flinched at her hand and ended up falling over. "Oh... time is up, correct?"

"I thought you were asleep for a second." The cultivator offered him a hand up. "Well, I thought it was gonna take another day or so to get you to do it right. Looks like we can get to the obstacle course tomorrow morning. I bet you'll love it." At the words "obstacle course", there seemed to be another blade hidden behind her colloquial tone. Himejima figured he might not enjoy it, but she sure would watching him try. Still, he appreciated the courtesy of the hand, strange and perhaps twisted as his new teacher was.

He took her hand. "I will try my best, shihan."

"I did manage to gather up some bamboo shoots today, so we'll have bamboo shoot rice for fine with that?"

"Yes, shihan."

She could feel a small smile flickering across his face as he agreed. It was a welcome deviation from the usually stern expression and occasional tears of this strange new disciple.


"Is that all?" Hisaishi was surprised when they were having dinner, that he had barely managed to eat a portion half of hers. Really, when he smiled back then, she thought he would actually enjoy the meal, but now it was just her filling her bowl and him starting to pick.

"No, I'll have more."

"You said that five minutes ago, too." She sighed. "If you don't eat more, the food won't go to building muscles and fat. You're decently strong now-" she gestured to him. "-But you'll need a lot more size and stamina than right now to fight those things."

"I know."

"Are you being courteous? You know there's enough for both of us, right?" She shoveled another bite of rice into her mouth. "This isn't the Meiji era, ok? We're not going to see a shortage anytime soon, so-" Hisaishi, realizing she was full, leaned back to ease into a food coma. "-eat without guilt, ok?"

"...Do you remember what it was like back then?"

"Yeah. It was insane, food riots 'n everything. You were born at the end of it, so I bet you never saw the worst of that era. When I was young my mom got pneumonia, and we couldn't even get her any food or medication. I guess being hungry made the sickness worse..." She sat up slowly, careful not to crack her joints. "But, that's how it was, and what the government or the weather does is out of our control. I prefer not to dwell on it."

"I'm sorry about that."

"It's been decades anyways-" She was startled to see tears running down his face. "Hey-hey it's really fine!"

"Starving to death is really painful." Gyomei looked down, hands scrunching his trousers.

"Oi, OI! I said it was fine! Come on, it was sixty years ago, I nearly forgot about it, even." She waved her arms rapidly, to no avail until they became sore. "Look-she's not in pain anymore, right? Come on. Why are you crying over something that happened in the past?"

None of them said anything for the next few minutes, until Suzue attempted again.

"You know, if my mother saw me turning into a shriveled up sob, it would make her sad." She got up slowly to make some tea. "Do you cry for those who are gone? The dead have no grudges towards the living. We have no duty to shoulder burdens for them." Hisaishi placed a kettle on her stove. "Come on, at least take one more bite. It would put my mother a bit more at peace that way, to know we're not going hungry anymore.'

After sitting stiffly in his hunched position for a few more minutes, Gyomei slowly lifted his head. He wiped his eyes with a sleeve as to not get salt water on any of the food and slowly lifted some more bamboo rice into his mouth, fighting all other attempts to retch and spit it out. Eventually it went down.

"Alright, you may be excused now. I might make the rest of this into onigiri." Suzue took a deep, long sip of her tea as her disciple bowed quietly and started to clean up.


Hisaishi was going to replenish some wisteria incense outside of her lodging while her student attempted to bathe the two demons. Another loud Crash! resounded from the bathroom, causing her to shout towards the light from inside.

"YOU'D BETTER NOT MAKE A MESS OF THINGS!"

"Sorry, Shihan! I'll clean everything up, I swear-Kaigaku!" A loud hiss, presumably Kaigaku, could be heard from inside as water sloshed over the walls of the bathtub.

"He better." She muttered to herself. As she was lighting the last tick, the call of a crow alerted her. "A message? This late?"

"Caw! Hebiyama Sarumei will arrive in the area in 3 days! Caw! She wishes to see you!"

"...Great. Like I needed it." Hisaishi held out her hand to let the bird perch.

Wait...that's in time for sparring training. Hmm...Perhaps I can have Himejima deal with her instead. She could also toughen him up. I won't have to do anything.

With a calculating smile, the cultivator retreated into her home. Sarumei's visit was going to be a piece of cake.