One step after another, the stairs never ending. He had been climbing for half an hour now and still hadn't reached the top. Trees covered the sides as he made the climb and the, at first, scenic view became boring and repetitive. How did he get here?

During the funeral an old man came up to him, an unlit cigarette in hand, and told of how he knew Karasu and that he wanted him to train Andrew when he was gone on missions. Andrew remembered a note like that saying Karasu would introduce a teacher when he came back but that never happened. He had a short white beard and receding hair but a manner about him that exuded confidence and calm. He stood upright with almost no fault to his posture except age. That old man's wrinkled face pissed off Andrew with how he talked about Karasu but he had to admit that he seemed strong at a glance. He exhibited an air of an experienced warrior, or killer might be the better term.

Soon the stairs flattened out and a shrine entrance stood before him. The arches lead towards a large open circular training ground with training dummies, practice swords and a duel arena. Behind those were buildings reminiscent of the past made of wood with the paper sliding doors instead of the more modern designs. The temple was desolate and worn down, showing signs of its age.

Andrew walked past the arch and towards the sounds of battle in the training ground. Sparks could be seen and two individuals were seen fighting. The old man from before with a wooden sword stood still, parrying and blocking everything his opponent threw at him. The girl, his opponent, looked around Andrews age at six and threw tired but well trained strikes, she was new to the sword but the same could be said to Andrew and he knew this. There was only so much he could learn about the sword by himself. He tightly gripped his sheath and watched on. Sweat dripping down from the girl's head dropped across the battleground evaporating in the bright sunlight shining onto the training ground. Andrew moved to the protection of the tree's branches and continued watching, analysing the old man's everymove. Soon the battle came to an end with a counter by the old man knocking the girl to the ground with a wooden sword to her throat.

"You did well my granddaughter, now get some respite there's a visitor I must attend to."

The girl gave a simple nod of the head gasping for air as she looked in my direction. Our eyes caught each other and there was something about her gaze, everything about her was fine from her black hair fading into white and her green eyes similar to Andrew's own. But there was an inexplicable hate he had for her at first glance.

'Is this what people call hate at first sight?' He thought to himself. Heat grew from within him and he just wanted to fight her right then and there. His fists tightened and his teeth clenched, his eyes narrowed and his glare sharpened. The exhausted girl didn't let up either, both giving each other death stares.

"It seems you've met my granddaughter." The old man appeared from next to him.

"No, this is the first time I've met her." Andrew clarified not looking away, neither giving ground to their opponent.

"Well that is one fierce glare." The old man then stood between the two blocking Andrew's sight of her while he looked back at the girl giving her an order.

"So I believe you came because of my proposal." The old man turned back around, looking at Andrew.

"I'm intrigued. I know I've almost hit my limits in terms of swordsmanship."
"You've got a smart mouth for a six year old. Well then let's get started."

"Will I fight you as an initiation?"

"Me?" The man pointed at himself and began chuckling. "Oh dear no, that won't be a fair fight. No. Young man, you will be fighting my granddaughter Freya."

"Her?" Andrew locked eyes with her again and their staring contest restarted.

"Yes, now she won't go easy and I assume you won't either?" Andrew nodded his head reaching for his sword, seeing that the old man grabbed his hand shaking his head.
"Wooden swords young man."

The two stood before each other, wooden swords in hand. Their fierce staring contest hadn't let up and they were just itching to tear the other a new one. The old man stood to the side, lighting a cigarette as he let the two stare each other down. After lighting his cigarette he raised his hand and shouted out "Begin!"

The two swordsmen leapt forward and clashed. Wood on wood colliding, Andrew had more strength behind him but Freya's technique was more refined and practised.

They pushed each other back and collided once again. Andrew lowered his profile and manoeuvred for a leg sweep to strike his opponent off balance. Freya dodged jumping up and hitting down with her sword against Andrew's defence. He hurriedly blocked but was pushed back.

The back and forth continued with Freya slowly gaining ground, but Andrew's strength kept the fight in a deadlock, neither able to make a decisive blow against the other.

Their staring contest hadn't stopped either but instead intensified the longer the fight dragged on, as swords collided sparks flew between their eyes.

A slash at Freya's supposedly undefended flank Was blocked and left Andrew exposed. A kick forced him back but not before he could land his own blow, forcing his way around her sword and hitting above his intended target. The two clutched their bruises but kept moving forwards.

The old man merely watched on letting smoke fill his mouth before he blew it out. The ferocity of the two wasn't new to him but the fact that two kids could fight in such a manner pleased him. He had two promising students.

A faint smile was hidden by the smoke, not that it mattered as the two kids were immersed in their fight, landing blow after blow and wearing each other down. The fight soon ended in a draw, Andrew's sword pressed against her chest ready to plunge, hand supporting the back of the hilt, while Freya had her sword pressed against his neck ready to slice. The killing intent behind the two's gazes started to emerge and the first words since they met were spoken.

"You're a lousy swordsman."

"Like you're one to talk, I'm about to pierce your heart."
"Says the person who doesn't have a head."

"Rematch?"
"Oh you're on! This time I won't hold back."
"Oh please, if anyone was holding back it was me you moron."
"At least I know how to use my brain unlike a certain someone."
"Ha, you're as sharp as a marble."
"Yet my smooth ass brain can still kick your ass."
"Nuh ah."
"Yuh ha"

"Nuh ah."
"Well this time, i'll give you a proper death."
"Your sword will break before you get the chance."
"Wanna see."
"Try me."

The old man just looked on at the childish exchange as the fight continued resulting in another draw. They fought all day till night. With the final score one victory each and 28 draws. They fought 30 different battles and were worn down. The interesting thing though was that their swordsmanship rubbed off each other, Andrew's aggressive powerful strikes became more stable and accurate while Freya's predictable and trained movements became more fluid and varied. The two were perfect sparring partners when it came to the sword. The two would've continued their childish exchange and fighting all through the night had the old man not chosen to stop them in order to get some sleep.