.

.

.

When the sun finally touched the horizon after a day in the holy land of the sword, I would often collapse to the ground. It was an endpoint, something to tell me that night had come and it was time to rest. During my training, going through the motions of swordplay and visualizing a world laid out before me, I would always lose track of time. Just like the first day of my sword training when I was three years old; it was difficult to pay attention to pain.

But the days and weeks after killing that man, I took it to another level.

A fire burned inside my chest. It pushed me on even when my muscles were aching from the inside out and I couldn't take even one more breath. I would keep on swinging the sword, feeling it in my hands, its weight pulling me down; I wouldn't stop.

I wasn't sure I would have been able to stop, even if I wanted to.

I no longer went to the central dojo. It felt uncomfortable, somehow. Exposed. And for some reason, I couldn't stand the looks of the Sword Saints- their eyes prickled on my skin, through my training clothes.

On those strange, winter days I would wander off by myself to find some secluded training ground. A grove of trees, an hour's walk away from the dojos. Just a small clearing in the woods, and I would take my training sword with me, and a pack filled with food.

Although the days were cold, in the dead of winter as they were, it had stopped bothering me. Despite the snow on the forest floor, I would train in that clearing for twelve hours at a time. As the weeks passed, those hours increased. I would leave my house in the morning earlier; I would come back later.

The world around me faded away, as it always did. It faded away as I closed my eyes, my grip light on my sword, my body balanced in a wide stance, as I felt each muscle in my body, each bone set in place.

The sword would come up, over my head. It would linger for a moment as I corrected my posture. Then it would fall down in a forward slash.

The tip of the wooden training sword would stop, just above the forest ground.

And a flash of memory would come to me. The memory of blood falling, dripping onto polished wood. The memory of a real sword in my hands, much heavier than the wooden training blade I was holding.

I would step back, breathe in deeply, and push away the scene. I would raise my sword again and redo the movement.

Weeks passed. I couldn't tell you anything more about what I did, or who I spoke to. It was a haze. I retreated deep into myself, away from any burdens or negative thoughts. Emotion disappeared and all the worries that sat in my mind faded to nothing; my life just moved. Although very little seemed to happen each day, it all passed so quickly; night would arrive in an instant, and I felt like nothing had even happened.

But eventually, on one of those cold days, I opened my eyes to find someone watching me in my training.

The snow of winter was beginning to melt away, though spring buds hadn't appeared yet. The sky was bright overhead, with the sun falling down on us through frozen tree branches.

I hadn't noticed her approach, still so deeply withdrawn into myself as I swung the blade. But Nina was standing there, leaning on one of the trees. She was quiet, her eyes on me.

She was twelve years old, by then, I believe. Her clear blue hair clasped behind her head in a ponytail, reaching past her shoulders. I couldn't identify the emotion on her face.

"Hello, Nina." I said. She blinked at me.

"How are you… doing, Jino?" She asked.

"I'm fine." I said.

Her brows were furrowed, just slightly.

"How did you find me here?" I asked.

At that, she crossed her arms, her face becoming resolute.

"I followed your tracks!" she said, "And I want to train with you!"

I nodded. My body, I noticed, was very sore. I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling. Despite the interruption, I welcomed the break- I must have been going at an intense pace, based on how worn out I already was.

"Sure. Would you like to spar?"

She nodded.

She was holding a training sword as well, I saw. By her side, the wooden blade was carved from strong oak. Most children in the land of the sword had many of these, made specifically for their bodies.

Nina walked to the opposite end of the clearing, grabbing the hilt of her sword by both hands, eyes cold on me. She looked me up and down.

We had sparred with training swords countless times in the past years, though I had never won.

The girl was four years older than me, with a larger and stronger body. But she was also a prodigy, that was what all the adults said. Advanced in our sword style at twelve years old, she was on track to become a Sword Saint by the end of her teens, most likely. -A rank most swordsmen only aspired to, their whole lives.

I could still remember her when she was just four or five years old. When I was a baby, held up by my mother, I would sometimes watch her train. The difference from then was like night and day. Her stance was focused and the grip on her blade was firm.

My own training sword was light in my hands; much lighter than the real blade I had held weeks before.

"You ready, Jino?" She called.

I nodded.

A shadow of focus crossed her face.

I saw her legs bend beneath her, and I knew what she was about to do. A simple, textbook Sword God Style approach. Straight on, without hesitation. -Just like the stranger I had killed.

A shockwave. The wind almost blinded me. She was right in front of me.

Her wooden blade came down.

. . . . . . . . . .

"You've normally got a better reaction time, Jino."

I groaned.

The sky was so blue, I thought. Not a single cloud in it.

My back was cold, wet snow biting through the cloth. As I lay on the forest floor, pain spreading from the top of my head where she had struck, I focused on my breathing. …It did hurt. I would have a bruise there for a long time.

"Hey, don't blame me! I thought you were going to be faster- you've been training out here for a while, I thought you were, like, totally gonna be Advanced by now!"

I let the girl's words pass over me. She had stepped into sight, glaring down as I looked up into the sky. She was blocking my view.

I rolled over on my side, into more snow. I closed my eyes. Maybe it would be nice to just sleep on the ground for a few hours. Sleep was important for muscle gain, I'm pretty sure my mother said once.

Nina's boot fell onto me. She pushed me over until I was facing up again.

"Don't go to sleep!" She said, with heat. "...Talk to me, please."

I sighed. My eyes opened.

The sky really was bright that afternoon. All the snow in the clearing was sparkling under the sunlight.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words that came out weren't what I expected.

"Real swords are heavier than training swords." I said.

Nina raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

Her knees bent and she knelt next to me. I rose from where I was lying and sat up. The two of us looked out into the surrounding forest, shoulder to shoulder.

Everything was almost blinding to look at. The branches of the trees were covered in a thin layer of ice and snow, and the ground was packed tight. Despite the cold, I thought it was quite beautiful.

My sword was in the snow a few feet away from us- I dropped it when she knocked me down. When I was younger, training with my father, he once told me that a true swordsman only drops their blade when they are dead.

I couldn't remember if the man I killed had dropped his sword. He probably did.

"Do you think that you're… happy, Nina?" I asked her. Again, I didn't know why. My mouth was running without any input from my thoughts. I didn't often say things out of the blue.

She looked at me sideways, frowning.

"That's a weird question," She said. I nodded but didn't speak again.

"I mean," she said, "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be happy?"

The corners of my mouth fell, and I looked away from her. She was right, it was a weird question to ask a child. Maybe it was a childish question in the first place.

Nina spoke again.

"Are you happy? Jino?"

I nodded slowly. I was still looking at the wooden training sword that lay in the snow.

"Really?"

I nodded again. I was happy, really. Like she said: why wouldn't I be happy? I had everything I could have wanted. I had proven myself; I had overcome a true life-or-death challenge, showing that I was a greater master of my path than that man.

"'Cuz you look sad right now." She said.

"...No," I said. "I'm not sad. I'm just… tired. And I'm thinking."

She frowned at me; I saw. Her eyebrows had furrowed again.

I raised a hand in front of my face, feeling each finger move. The calluses on my hand had darkened to a deep brown color, despite the pale skin. They were starting to blister- that wasn't a good sign. It meant I was probably clenching my sword improperly. The muscles in my wrists, as well, were pumped and sore. -My whole body was sore, too. But it wasn't too bad.

I put my legs underneath me, rising to my feet. I groaned as I stretched my arms out and straightened my spine, working out all the cramps that had formed. Damp snow fell from my shoulders.

Nina stood up next to me, more than a head taller. She was still staring.

"Do you want to go again?" I asked her. "There's a lot more time in the day."

"...Sure."

Trudging through the snow on the clearing's floor, I reached for my sword and picked it up.

The weight filled my palms, and I let a deep breath go. My shoulders fell, any leftover tension in my muscles falling with them. The wooden sword was so light, so much lighter than steel, I was still thinking. Every time I picked up the training blade, I couldn't help but think that.

Air filled my lungs as I breathed in. I closed my eyes. The hilt in my hands was all I felt, the biting cold of the air ignored, the pain from the blisters ignored. The world faded away.

All I had to do was stop thinking. Stop thinking and learn to act without worry.

The Sword God Style was an expression of perfection. It was the essence of simplicity, pure mastery in action. Such things as doubt and desire were completely unneeded.

How did I kill that man in the first place? How did I defeat him, a man twenty years older than me at least- with so much more experience than me?

He had distractions in his mind. -That was why. Those distractions stole his attention so he couldn't focus on the goal in front of him. He couldn't even see me; of course I could avoid his sword. It was the same as if I had fought a blind man.

So, the solution- I thought to myself as I watched Nina walk to the other edge of the clearing- is focus.

…But it's one thing to say 'focus is the sole answer! To focus is to master the sword!' -and another thing entirely to do so. How does one calm their mind? In the face of so many of these distractions?

I took a deep breath in.

Push them all away. Look at one thing- the one thing in front of you- and just take it in. Everything else will follow if you have faith.

I let the wooden blade in my hands become my world.

"Alright, I'm ready! -And I'm not gonna hold back, you know!" Nina's voice reached me.

I looked forward. She was in the same position, her training sword held out in front of her, those clear eyes unafraid.

"Ready."

I saw light.

The world that surrounded the both of us, that white clearing filled with snow and winter chill, blurred away. The forest disappeared as my legs tensed and I leapt forward.

The snow became slush beneath me.

Nina's blade filled my vision. She used a simple technique, cutting at me from above.

My sword flew upwards. The two blades crashed together.

I stepped forward, letting my body continue to move, using the momentum of my charge.

Her blade fell to the side, grazing my shoulder, but I was completely in her space, now.

I stabbed at her chest. She threw herself to the side, rolling in the snow and kicking up a cloud of cover.

I stood quiet. The snow fell back to the ground, clearing the air. I saw her standing opposite me, two dozen paces away.

My grip had gotten tight- I was squeezing the hilt with white knuckles.

One breath out. Slowly. My heart was pounding.

And in that instant I charged again.

My blade came up, aiming for her side. But as the distance between us disappeared I saw; her own sword about to reach my throat.

She was faster than me. Of course she was.

The wooden sword in my hands, though, was the perfect weight. I felt each of my fingers on the hilt, each one registered the smooth surface; every electrical signal fired up.

With just a slight shift in pressure, my sword cracked against hers.

We leaned against one another, pushing with our entire bodies, shoulders tense and arms flush. The two wooden blades were deadlocked. We were clashing low, the crossguards nearly touching.

My fingers twitched on the sword, one more time.

A hint of weight on the bottom of the hilt, a slight pull in my pointer finger.

I let all the pressure, all the fury that I squeezed the sword with, fade away- I held the hilt loose. The momentum carried more than anything else.

And like a feat of magic, my entire body twisted: every bone, every muscle, focused on that single action.

Strength filled my body, like a gust of heavenly wind.

I slammed my foot onto the forest floor.

Her sword fell below mine, and the clash opened up.

I saw a window. A perfect window, where her body sat, exposed.

I swung the training sword.

…She ducked.

I felt a blow to the side of my head. Everything disappeared.

. . . . . . . .

"Yeah! That was way better, Jino! I knew you got better!"

I groaned.

The sky had gotten darker; much darker than when we had started, when the sun fell to the snow and set the entire clearing alight. The ice didn't sparkle anymore.

Laying on the ground, staring up with my back in the cold, I focused on my breathing. My chest rose, and fell. Air filled me, and then it flew away.

My entire body was burning, but I was smiling. It wasn't a conscious kind of smile- not the kind of smile that shows teeth. But my lips were curling upwards, and I couldn't get them to stop.

Nina stepped into view over my head. She was smiling too.

"That was the best I've ever seen you do, honestly. You almost had me at the end! -Really, you did!"

"...Thanks, Nina."

I lifted a hand, and she grasped it tight. She grunted as she pulled up and helped me to my feet. I took a moment to lean against her, my arm draped over her shoulders, and breathe.

"What do you think?" She asked me, as we stood there in the quiet. "-You feeling any better?"

I looked at her from the corner of my eye.

"Yes. I think I am."

She chuckled.

"I knew it. Sparring always cheers you up- you just get too into your own head, you know? -Such a funny kid."

I elbowed her, but that only made her laugh.

.

.

.