Cut Through Your Doubts
Hello everyone and welcome to the latest chapter of Winds, Waves, And Chains! We got the appearance of some new faces this chapter along with a glimpse at what training to be a Breath of Wind User might be like. Even if there's no major battle I think you'll still find it intriguing. And speaking of intriguing, check out what I've got going on at my Pat reon by joining and becoming a patron! Now then that's all the announcements and with no guest review questions this week, to the story we go!
Atop A Windy Mountain
"We're here," Izumo Kaze announced as she and Mary arrived atop the tallest mountain in the region.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised you picked an area with high winds," the trainee had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the gale that threatened to blow her hat off even despite it being strapped to her head.
"Of course," her new sensei smirked, "Unlike the Breath of Water, The Breath of Wind is mainly an offensive style. Fast, powerful, rotating movements are the signature of this breathing form and in order to achieve that you'll learn each and every technique while fighting against the wind."
"But won't I risk being blown off the mountain if I use that jumping attack you used," Mary couldn't help but point out.
"That's right," the Wind Cultivator's smile only seemed to widen at this statement as she drew her sword, "so you'd best make sure you're getting the hang of things before we arrive at that particular technique. Now, watch what I do and try to replicate it!" Izumo took a stance and braced herself then before performing the first form, then second, followed by the third all in quick succession, seeming to face no resistance at all from the torrent of air blowing against her. "Now, try to perform one of those three!"
Mary nodded and took her stance, deciding on using the third form as it required less lower body movement and was most similar to one of the Water Breathing forms she'd practiced up to this point. But unlike her time with Urokodaki she didn't bother with fluidity as much, instead making the movements crisp yet wild. It was, however, a lot more difficult to do when trying to fight against a mass of wind. "Don't worry about hitting the ground," her sensei corrected with her arms crossed, "a whirlwind tears up everything in its path, so long as you do it right your sword won't break!"
The trainee nodded before trying the next form and the form after that. She recalled what Urokodaki had said once about visualizing the element or theme a person's style resembled. At the time, she and John had naturally been trying to imagine water in its many forms and movements. Now, however, Mary tried to remember something that had once haunted her nightmares.
It had only happened a single time but was more than enough to leave an impression. When she was a little girl she'd bared witness to an actual tornado. Mary had done her best at the time to forget the event, not wanting to think about what such a force of nature could do to her and her family. But now, she would have to rely on that very force of nature, become that force of nature in order to protect everything she held dear. And so she continued to go through the forms until her arms and joints were screaming in protest at her and, after a short rest, Izumo had her descend the mountain down a more dangerous path than the one they'd used on the way up.
She had to keep steady and time her more risky movements with the wind, otherwise the trainee would get blown off the mountain and fall potentially hundreds of feet to her death. Other times Mary was walking against the wind, making every step that much more difficult. When she finally got below the tree line, familiar territory awaited with numerous traps littered along the trail. The mother briefly wondered about her sanity for a moment when she felt relief at going through a booby-trapped obstacle course.
Finally, after a couple hours she reached the foot of the mountain. There she found Izumo Kaze's home, which was made of brick instead of wood and had a few larger than average stones on her roof. "Oh good, you made it," her sensei greeted while cooking some rice and meat, her usual hat off her head, revealing the rest of her windswept hair, "so, how was your first descent down the windy mountain?" Mary didn't so much answer as set her sword down, turn and collapse onto her back with a loud sigh. "Yeah, that's pretty normal even for more experienced trainees."
"Do you usually have your trainees do sword swings before descending," Mary glanced at the Wind Cultivator once she caught her breath.
"I usually do what Urokodaki does and have them do forms after descending the mountain," Izumo revealed, "we'll start doing that tomorrow. The reason I did it in reverse order today is to see how you handled yourself. It seems that soft old man is still managing to do his job even after all these years."
"He once told us only the best can live to see old age in this profession," the mother managed to sit up before accepting a bowl of food from her new teacher.
"That can be as much a matter of luck as skill," Kaze pointed out, "if you get unlucky and encounter a powerful demon right off the bat, chances are you won't live to see old age. In general the life expectancy of most slayers is a few weeks to maybe a couple of years, that's just how unpredictable this job can be. Like the ever-changing wind, a sudden storm can arrive any day and without warning. That's why you need to learn to become a windstorm yourself, so that no matter what threat you may meet in the future you'll be able to tear through it with brutal efficiency."
"Isn't that basically what Urokodaki said," Mary pointed out before getting bonked on the head with a wooden spoon.
"My saying's cooler," Izumo remarked, "now eat. You've still got a long regimen ahead of you." And she meant it too. From that day onward it was traveling up to windy places and learning each one of the nine Wind Breathing Forms, and not always just against the wind. Sometimes Izumo would throw in random traps to try and mess up her form or randomly trip her up during them.
When Mary started getting better at following through with her forms even with interruption her new teacher started attacking her at random intervals, the lesson being to always be prepared. Or as she liked to put it 'keep an eye out for even the slightest change in the wind.' One exercise she had the mother do that Urokodaki didn't was balance on and leap off of wooden posts to improve balance and the forms that involved leaping. Mary crashed to the ground on more than one occasion during these particular exercises until she learned to properly twist and turn in the air to land on her feet.
When some progress was finally being made in producing wind with her slashes, Kaze began taking her to the windiest places she'd found up to that point. And when Mary began advancing even in those places, her sensei upped the intensity of their sparring sessions. Now they'd sparred before using the basics with, thankfully, bokken but it wasn't until Izumo had decided it was time that Mary discovered a breathing form could be utilized even without wielding an actual sword. The first time had been a humbling lesson and no doubt due to the fact that her sensei had noticed her growing confidence as their spares seemed to become more and more evenly matched.
"Ow," Mary hissed while adjusting one of her bandages after that particular session, "sensei, I have a question."
"What is it," Izumo didn't look up as she polished her sword with a cotton swab held between chopsticks.
"Can you really cut through things with just a wooden weapon?" The mother asked with understandable curiosity.
"The Breath of Wind utilizes wind slashes created by your swings to increase cutting power," her sensei answered, "so yes, it's possible for me to cut through things with a wooden sword and it's also possible for you."
"I guess I should be grateful you didn't do that to me," Mary sighed.
"There's a practical reason not to," Kaze revealed while holding up both the wooden weapon and her own, "bokken are much weaker than actual swords, even the finest of wood won't hold up as long as a properly made blade of steel. So when you want to practice your techniques at full force, do it with a real sword. You try going full force with a bokken and you'll break it in no time."
"Guess there really is no substitute for real life combat," the dark-haired woman observed, "but the reason I ask is if I ever happen to lose my sword in combat, do I have other options?"
"You might be able to knock around a few low level demons with a sturdy enough stick or other random object," Izumo shrugged, "but you won't get very far in killing them unless you keep it up until sunrise." She pointed her sword at Mary then, "I thought you would've learned that while training with the old man; do not, under any circumstances, lose your sword if you can avoid it. And while you train under me you'll find that mask wearing geezer and I have something in common. If you break your sword I'll break some bones."
"Guess that's a rule all cultivators have in common," the trainee sweat dropped while laughing nervously. Later that night she wrote in her journal, glancing in the corner of the room out of habit before reminding herself that Jonathan wasn't there. 'I hope my husband and son are doing well,' she mused, 'I'm going to have a lot to tell them when we meet again.'
Six Months Later: Mt. Sagiri
'So, since your Mother has gone off to train with the Wind Cultivator, she's left it up to me to keep writing in her journal,' John mused as he put pen to paper, 'naturally Mary is starting another journal so that you'll know what we've both been up to, Jonathan. But to be honest, not as much has changed with the training as you might think.' And that was the truth. Urokodaki continued to run him through course after course every day.
He was starting at higher and higher elevations now, dealing with even thinner air than before. Mountain climbing started getting added to the mix and on more than one occasion he'd nearly slipped and fell. The traps naturally continued to get tougher as well with swinging spike traps and short swords being launched at him now. One thing that had changed, however, was that Urokodaki now had them both using bokkens during combat training.
It seemed John's skill had finally advanced enough that the old slayer was forced to defend himself with a weapon instead of just his bare hands, lest he be the one getting hurt. Naturally that didn't mean the sparring sessions weren't still painful for John but the gap was clearly closing more and more as the days went by. And with each passing day the hunter could feel himself growing closer to the goal of becoming a demon slayer. In fact, the one thing he really hated right now was that his wife wasn't there to share in the accomplishments he was making.
But it was also that quiet and that lack of warmth that continued to push John onward, striving each day to complete his training so that he could go and see his wife. Sadly, there was still no change in Jonathan who continued to sleep day in and day out with only his steady breathing giving away the fact that he was still alive. The worst nights were when the father's fears crept up on him, whispering to him that Jonathan would never wake up again. Thankfully, each day he'd get up and find his son still alive and give thanks that there was still time to save him.
"Another day closer," he'd say while rubbing his son's head before setting out for training. It would be the beginning of winter, a whole year since his training had started, when the first snow started to fall that Urokodaki would present him with some startling news. It was at the end of a particularly grueling training session that he suddenly told him.
"That's it," the trainer spoke solemnly, "I've taught you everything I possibly can."
"Wait," John couldn't hide his surprise even despite how heavily he was breathing, "So does that mean-?"
"Your training is not yet complete, no," Urokodaki shook his head, "we have simply reached a point where you can prove whether or not you're ready to advance to the next level."
"So, a final test then," the hunter nodded in comprehension before standing up straight.
"That is a good way to put it," the Breath of Water user turned, "come with me." Like so many times in the past year he led John down a trail to a new spot he hadn't seen before. But unlike the other times, this trail didn't lead them up the mountain. Instead, he led John to a clearing where a large boulder with a ceremonial rope around it was sitting. "If you can cut this boulder in half, I shall allow you to enter Final Selection."
"How am I supposed to do that," the slayer in training couldn't help but ask. Urokodaki didn't bother answering. Instead, he simply turned and walked away, leaving John alone to attempt completing this seemingly insurmountable task. 'How does he expect me to cut a boulder,' the hunter thought to himself.
During his training the cultivator had taught him that demons had necks of varying size, length, and thickness. It wasn't unheard of for the more powerful demons to possess skin as hard as a rock. 'Well this is Urokodaki sensei we're talking about here,' John took a deep breath and drew his sword, 'he's always given us difficult tests but never impossible. If this is what he wants done then it must mean it can be done.'
With that resolve in mind, John took a stance and readied his blade. He drew upon everything he'd learned during his training. Then, using Total Concentration Breathing to heighten his abilities, he swung with all of his might.
With Mary and the Wind Cultivator
The sound of metal screaming as it collided with more metal rang out, almost loud enough to be heard over the gale at the top of the mountain. But this was no ordinary torrent of wind, nor was it a single torrent. For the last six months the mother had been increasing her skills and strength, her ability to produce wind with her slashes increasing each day. Up to this point Mary had continued using a bokken when sparring with her teacher, but not today.
For some reason, Izumo Kaze had decided they'd go all out today and use actual swords in combat. Mary found herself oddly grateful that her current sensei had tested her that day using a real blade instead of a bokken, otherwise she would've been surprised when they clashed. It was already unreal enough that she was having this bout with her sensei but the feeling she got each time their weapons met made it all the more unreal. The ringing in her ears, the pain in her hands from trying to hold on to her weapon, the rattling in her bones that followed each collision of their blades.
And yet, Mary continued to hold her own. She met one Wind Breathing form with her own Wind Breathing form, sometimes the same and sometimes a different form. It was like being in the heart of a storm, trying not to get swept away as dirt was thrown in all directions and rocks were torn out of the ground and cut to pieces. Most of the larger devastation was caused by her master but Mary was able to reap some destruction of her own.
Dust Whirlwind Cutter, Cold Mountain Wind, Clear Storm Wind Tree, Black Wind Mountain Mist, those were just a few techniques used in the storm of attacks that cut into and partially reshaped the landscape with each passing minute. Then, master and student clashed one final time, each one utilizing their favored techniques as the force of the impacts blew them both back. Mary planted her feet and managed to stay upright despite sliding a good couple of yards. She resumed her stance as soon as she was able, her blade poised to go into another form the moment her sensei moved.
"Hmm," Izumo Kaze suddenly relaxed her battle stance, "it looks like the time's come even faster than I expected." She sheathed her sword then while Mary kept hers out, still wary of her sensei for obvious reasons. "It's alright, this little session has come to an end. And so has your training."
"What are you talking about," Mary asked in obvious confusion while finally lowering her weapon.
"I'm saying you've learned all I'm able to teach you," The woman sighed as she put a grass reed in her mouth, "the forms, the skills, the mindset. I've taught you everything that I can think of to keep you alive out there. Now all that remains is one final test. If you pass, I'll let you go to Final Selection where you'll find out very quickly if you can hack it as a demon slayer, or die?"
"What do I have to do," her student asked while sheathing her sword.
"This way," Izumo gestured for her to follow. The two descended the mountain then and circled around to an area near the cultivator's house. And there, sitting in a clearing, was a stone pillar? It was taller than either of them and a foot or two wider than them all around.
"Why is this out here," Mary couldn't help but muse aloud.
"It's a quartz pillar," the trainer explained, "It was a pain to get ahold of but it'll be worth it. This nice little piece of rock here is going to be your final test."
"What exactly do you want me to do with this pillar," the mother questioned as all manner of possibilities went through her head.
"I want you to cut it," Kaze declared, "slice it in half, down the middle, diagonally, however you cut it isn't important. What is important is that you can cut it."
"How many tries do I get," Mary decided to ask.
"You can try as many times as you like and take as long as you like," her sensei responded while pulling the reed out of her mouth and flicking it away, "from this point on it's up to you whether you pass or fail. I won't be out there holding your hand when you're fighting demons for real. So show me that determination of yours and see how far it can take you." Izumo Kaze turned and walked off then, seeming to disappear in a sudden swirl of snow as the first flakes of winter began to fall.
Mary looked in the direction her master went for several more seconds before turning back to the pillar. "Well I don't know much about quartz, or minerals in general," she shrugged, drew her sword and got into a ready stance, "but if it can be cut then I'll cut it wide open!" With that in mind, the trainee attacked with one of her more direct forms and slammed her blade into the pillar.
Back with John at the foot of Mt. Sagiri
The good news, the blade didn't break when he hit the boulder at full force. The bad news, the boulder didn't have a scratch on it. Instead, the vibration from his failed attack traveled down the blade and through his entire body, causing him to wince in pain as his hands shook. 'Not off to a great start,' John took a steadying breath before striking again.
It was unfortunately as he feared when first laying eyes upon the boulder. It was bigger and tougher than anything he'd tried to cut up to this point. Even the rocks he'd started training with shortly before being given this test couldn't compare to the density of the stone before him. But just because his first attempt failed didn't mean his next one would, or the one after that, or the one after that. At least that's what he kept telling himself as he repeatedly struck the obstacle before him.
But minutes turned into hours and hours started turning into days. Urokodaki, being true to his word, didn't teach him anything else as he'd apparently learned all he could. That meant this problem was like the question posed to him when they first met; 'can you not figure out a solution on your own'? So the real issue was, how would he solve this problem? The solution, he decided, was to keep trying to improve.
The Breath of Water Cultivator may have stopped training him but that didn't mean he couldn't push beyond what he'd already accomplished. So he trained, going through all the exercises Urokodaki taught him like holding his breath underwater, physical exercises for strength and flexibility, running the courses, practicing his sword skills. John found himself quite grateful that Mary had written down in detail all of their training regimes in the journal she left. Still, it was a very uphill battle.
Every day he tried pushing himself further and further beyond his limit and every day he assaulted the boulder with every last ounce of his strength. Yet time and time again it refused to yield to him, showing hardly any sign that he'd even struck it, unlike his hands which blistered and scabbed over, his only reward so far for his efforts. It was frustrating, no, beyond frustrating waking up every morning and seeing his way forward figuratively blocked by a big damn rock! Naturally it all came to a head, in this case after six more months of training.
"RAAAAAAGH!" John roared while assaulting the boulder once again, as had become routine. And as had become routine, he eventually dropped his sword, opening and closing his stinging hands. "Damn it, what am I missing?" The former hunter pounded both his fists on the rock before leaning his head against it. "There's a way to do this but what is it, what haven't I done?!"
'Is this really as far as I go,' he couldn't help but wonder while gritting his teeth, 'will Jonathan only be able to rely on one of us to save him?' "It is unseemly for a man to whine," a sudden voice made John jump. He looked up to see a boy with a white haori over a yellow and green checkered kimono top. But the most striking feature about him was the white fox mask on his face that had a scar on the right cheek for decoration. The stranger was sitting on the boulder with a bokken in his right hand.
"Who are you," the trainee asked, wondering how the boy had managed to get on top of the rock without him noticing.
"One who knows a demon slayer bears their suffering in silence," the stranger stood up, "isn't that what you want to be? If so, show me your resolve and start acting like it!" He leapt gracefully off of the boulder and came down with a vertical strike. John rolled out of the way, his training taking over as he grabbed his sword while still in motion and sprang back up to his feet. The newcomer didn't plan on giving him any time to breathe and attacked again.
John parried the first two strikes but couldn't dodge the kick to his stomach in time and was sent falling back. Again his training took over and he rolled back up in an instant. "Slow and weak," the fox-masked boy remarked, "definitely not someone I'd call a demon slayer."
"You show up right at my most exhausted and think you can judge my strength," the slayer-in-training shot back before readying his sword, "come to think of it, who are you and why should I give a shit about your opinion?"
"You could say I'm your senior," the boy took his own stance, "one who's already sliced his boulder in half, unlike you."
"So it is possible," the former hunter had to fight to keep an expression of relief off of his face.
"It is," his apparent adversary nodded, "I, Sabito, have accomplished it and that means you should give a very large amount of shit about what I have to say."
"Alright," John narrowed his eyes, "so what is the secret to boulder slicing?"
"First, why don't I show you where you're lacking!" Sabito shot forward then as wood met steel in a new kind of contest, a contest of skill. It would be the first of many such contests.
With Mary and the Quartz Pillar
"Dammit!" Mary yelled while slashing at the pillar, "dammit, dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!" With her final exclamation she collapsed to her knees, breathing heavily, "how in the world does anyone pass to become a demon slayer?" She looks at her blistered hands, "is it just a matter of being more special than everyone else?" This was not the first time such a thought had made itself known. After her first failure to cut the pillar she'd trained diligently, working to surpass her limits and improve on all the skills she'd learned up to this point. Yet even after six months of trying nothing seemed to be working and the mother was now finding herself at wits end.
And then, the moment she truly started to despair, a stranger appeared. "There are some very special people in the Corps," the voice made Mary jump a bit as she looked up at the top of the pillar to see a girl seated there, "but the majority of them get in through hard work and perseverance." The mother could now see that the speaker was a girl with blond hair and odd silver eyes. She wore a basic grey kimono with a gold and blue haori over it, her sandaled feet dangling off the edge of the pillar.
"Who are you," the woman couldn't help but ask.
"You may call me Shihoze Suzuyashi," the girl introduced, standing up with a slight flourish before hopping down off the pillar, landing gracefully and holding up a bokken, "but all you need to know right now is, I'm your opponent."
"Wha-hey!" Mary barely had time to tilt her head in confusion before the new arrival attacked. She deftly dodged out of the way of the blond's opening thrust before putting her blade up to defend against the next couple of attacks. "Why in the world are we fighting?"
"Because you still lack what it takes to be a slayer!" Shihoze exclaimed before leaping up and unleashing Seventh Form: Gale Wind Dusts. The trainee rolled and jumped out of the way of the slashes, seeing the ground torn up by the attacks.
"You're as strong as sensei," the mother noted as she resumed a defensive stance. 'Did another Breath of Wind user get brought here to help me train?'
"Ha, you think Izumo Kaze has ever gone all out against you," the blond girl laughed, "she's a bigger softie than you know, but she must've lowered her standards if you think this is impressive!" Again the girl attacked and Mary was forced to block and parry her blows, being pushed back by the ferocity of the onslaught. "Breath of Wind Fifth Form: Cold Mountain Wind!" Several circular slashes came towards Mary then, increasing in size as they approached.
"Breath of Wind Third Form," she readied her own technique, "Clear Storm Wind Tree!" A whirlwind of slashes was unleashed around her body, meeting the incoming arched slashes. The ground was torn up around Mary as she tried to keep her footing but the force of the blows was too much and she was knocked off of her feet.
"Have you really learned nothing," Shihoze rested her bokken on her shoulder, "The Breath of Wind is a primarily offensive form. Its strength lies in overwhelming the opponent with powerful attacks. If you use it just to defend you're the one who's going to get overwhelmed."
"But I don't see the point in fighting you," Mary countered while getting back up, "what are you hoping to accomplish here?"
"Ugh, I'm not the one who needs to accomplish something here," the girl sighed while pulling her hand across her face, "I've already sliced my quartz pillar. You, however, still need to learn the mindset of a slayer."
"The mindset," the swordswoman in training narrowed her eyes, "I'm more than ready to kill a demon!"
"Are you," Suzuyashi took another stance, "then don't flinch! Breath of the Wind First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!" She dashed forward as Mary once again used the third form to defend. A horizontal cyclone met whirlwind slashes for several moments, but the former was quickly overpowering the latter as the trainee felt blow after break through her defense until finally a strike to the collar bone caused her to seize up and fall over. "I told you not to flinch. It looks like this is going to take some time."
Back At Mt. Sagiri
John groaned as he rested, splayed out on the ground, having lost track of time a while back. He was covered in small bruises and could feel his consciousness slipping in and out. Again and again the fight with Sabito played out in his head. The boy had been fast, agile, powerful, leaping off of the trees with hit-and-run tactics before engaging him up close.
The former hunter could take some pride in the fact that despite his exhaustion he'd been able to block and parry the majority of the strikes during their bout. But the one and only counter he'd been able to get in had been sloppy, too telegraphed. Because of all those factors Sabito had been able to spin out of the way and smack him in the chin, ending their bout as he'd collapsed to the ground, the pain of the blow causing him to see stars as his exhaustion prevented him from getting back up. 'I'm still lacking in battle experience,' he noted before a voice broke him from his thoughts. "Are you alright?"
John sprang up to see a girl squatting next to him wearing a pink yukata decorated with white flowers and possessing a short skirt. Over that was a black sleeveless haori and a yellow sash was tied around her waist with a bow in the back. Her shoulder length black hair hung loosely and her blue eyes seemed inquisitive. "Who are you," the former hunter asked, surprised she was able to seemingly appear next to him.
"My name is Makomo," she introduced while indicating the white fox mask hanging off the left side of her head. It had blue flowers on it as opposed to a scar. "I'm a friend of Sabito."
"'Friend'," John glanced towards his sword on the ground, "are you here to fight me too?"
"No," she shook her head, "I watched your bout with Sabito and I'm here to give you instruction."
"Does that mean you've sliced a boulder in half, too?" The Father raised an eyebrow.
"Mmhm," Makomo hummed with a nod, "but I'm certain you can do it. I'll teach you how to minimize wasteful movements without losing your power."
"I am open to suggestions at this point," John rubbed his chin, "and not getting smacked upside the head again would definitely be an improvement."
"Then improve quickly," the girl warned, "Sabito will be back to test you."
"Guess it's back to training myself to death," the former hunter sighed before getting back up completely.
"What else is there," Makomo asked with a sweet smile.
Back With Mary
"So my problem is I'm losing power by using wasteful movements," the mother asked while practicing her swings.
"That's just one of a number of problems," Shihoze remarked, her arms crossed while she leaned against the pillar, "you also need to continue expanding your lung capacity and time the use of Total Concentration Breathing to maximize the amount of damage you do. But as mentioned the most important thing is the mindset."
"You still haven't really explained what that means," Mary pointed out while moving into another series of techniques. "I thought I'd done what sensei said, so what did I miss?"
"Don't let your analysis of a situation stop you," the blond girl answered, "what did you think when you were first asked to cut this pillar?"
"I wondered if it could be done," the woman-in-training admitted, "I figured if sensei was asking me to do it then surely it could. But after I failed the first few times, I started to have doubts."
"Sensei taught you everything you needed to know, except how to put it all together," Shihoze sighed, "but here's the thing. Even if a task is daunting a demon slayer doesn't back down. Understand that being a slayer means to put your life on the line for people you have never met, becoming part of the only thing standing between them and being eaten by a demon. If you need to make a tactical retreat, fine, but when you're in the thick of it, fighting a demon, don't let your fear of what that demon can do stop you from pushing through to victory."
"That is what sensei taught me," Mary acknowledged with another swing of her sword.
"Sensei taught you that but it hasn't sunk in," the blue-eyed girl observed, "when we fought the first time, you saw that I was overpowering you and panicked, letting your blows become more sloppy."
"It didn't help that you were hitting me with that thing," Mary indicated the bokken in the girl's hand, currently held in a reverse grip.
"Some of the best demon slayers kept on fighting even when they lost a limb," Shihoze countered, "if you're willing to sacrifice for your son then do what I said before and don't flinch. Keep your focus during the battle and don't let yourself be deterred by minor issues. As long as you're able to move something keep fighting, be defiant until the end. I won't have a student of Izumo Kaze coming out of training being anything less than a torrent of demon slaying badassery."
"You talking like that makes me fear the day Jonathan takes up swearing," his mother sighed before beginning another series of forms.
"Trust me, you'll have plenty to swear about if you make it as a demon slayer," the blond smirked.
Six Months Later: Mt. Sagiri
As promised, Makomo instructed John, teaching him how to minimize wasteful movements along with pointing out bad habits he'd been doing. The father wondered on more than one occasion why Urokodaki himself, who'd vehemently corrected him on so many things, hadn't pointed out some of these shortcomings. It wouldn't be until later when he found out why. But one thing he never really found out was why Makomo and Sabito were helping him, where they came from, or much of anything else about them.
In all that time training with them all he was told was the two of them weren't siblings but were both orphans taken in and trained by Urokodaki. Makomo would often say that they loved him very much, like it was a catchphrase. The dark-haired girl also told him there were lots of other children and that they were watching him, Mary and Jonathan. John never saw any of these so-called children and found himself remarking privately what a strange girl she was from time to time.
Still, he was more than grateful for her help, especially on the days Sabito came around. The former hunter lost repeatedly to the masked boy but each match was closer and closer. And after every defeat John trained until his arms and legs felt like they were going to fall off and his lungs seemed on the verge of bursting. It would be with the coming of the first snowfall that circumstances would change.
John stood before Sabito again, dirty, battered, his longer hair a messy mane. But he stood resolute, his head held high and all fear of his opponent gone. The masked boy must've noticed this before he arrived, because this time his sword was real. "At long last," Sabito drew the blade on his hip, "it took you six months, but you finally look like a warrior and not just a hunter."
"I had to purge myself of the mindset that I was fighting mere animals," John took a ready stance, "my old life truly ends today."
"Show me," the masked boy took his own stance. Makomo watched from a short distance away as they sized each other up. No words were exchanged as they took in a breath, employing the technique of Total Concentration Breathing. Not a sound was made nor a signal given.
One moment the two were standing across from each other, the next they were a blur as the swordsmen shot towards each other. Two blades were raised and one came down first, John's blade. For the first time, Sabito failed to land the opening strike and he halted as his mask split in two. The face revealed underneath was as youthful as John expected, framed by his peach-colored hair and the scar on his face matched the one on his mask.
What John didn't expect was the relieved look in his lavender-colored eyes and the smile on his face that was both happy yet sad at the same time. "John Keller," Makomo's voice broke him from his thoughts, "you did wonderfully. Never forget today's victory and continue on to the next one and the one after that. Could you please, do that for me?"
She seemed to disappear into the mist then. John couldn't find her despite looking around and when he turned to Sabito he found the boy was gone too. But what he did find made him gasp in awe.
With Mary
A similar scene was playing out with the mother of Jonathan. Just like her husband, Mary had continued honing her skills, putting herself through intensive training to minimize wasteful movements, decrease her bad habits and increase her lung capacity. Similarly, she also began to learn about the mysterious girl who'd come to help her. It seemed that Shihoze had been orphaned at some point early in her life due to demons and was rescued by Izumo Kaze who trained her to be a slayer.
It certainly explained her occasionally bratty attitude as their sensei had taught the girl to hold her head high and speak her mind, even if there were people who might not like what she thought. This wound up getting her a friend named Sanemi who, according to her, was still alive. Thankfully, Shihoze knew what she was talking about and Mary knew it was worth listening to her, even if it meant putting up with her being a little bratty.
And in much the same way her husband fought Sabito, she battled Shihoze again and again, matching the strength of her wind against the girl's. But on this day, no wind blew.
Mary stood across from the blond girl, her hair now much longer and messier than before and her body covered in dirt and grime. But like her husband not an ounce of fear remained in her even despite seeing that Shihoze had an actual sword this time. It mattered not, an opponent stood before her and she would devastate them as a wind devastates all. "Good," the girl cooed with a smirk, "I like the look in your eyes today."
"You won't for long," Mary readied her sword, "I've been looking forward to punishing you for the last six months. You'll regret being a brat all this time."
"You're even brave enough to talk back now," Shihoze laughed as she drew her own sword, "that's the attitude I've been looking for. But before you can spit in the face of demons, you need to get past me." The mother's answer to this was to deepen her stance, taking a deep breath as her body tensed like a coiled spring. The blond girl did much the same, her expression turning from one of amusement to one of concentration.
No other words were exchanged nor did they need to be exchanged. The Breath of Wind wielders sized each other up, looking for even the slightest opening or twitch of a muscle. Then, in the same instant, they moved. One moment there was stillness, and the next two small torrents of wind barreled towards each other.
As they collided, one wind was faster and fiercer, tearing through the other wind. In the next instant both winds died down as the two swordswomen passed each other. Tattered gold and blue cloth fell to the ground as Mary relaxed her half-kneeling stance. Not a cut could be seen on her body as she turned to Shihoze who now had no haori.
"Now that is a wind that will make demons tremble," she smiled in a way that was both happy and sad, "remember this day, Mary Keller. Let this victory be the first of many for you, for your family, and for the rest of us." The mother would've answered that but a sudden gale of wind blew a dust cloud up between her and Shihoze. When it cleared, the blond-haired girl was gone.
But in her place was a familiar quartz pillar. Mary gasped in surprise at the state of it. She'd been sure, just as John had been sure he'd cut something else. Yet the proof was there in front of them. On this day, when the first snow had fallen, Mary and John Keller sliced the pillar and boulder.
And so their training is complete, and the Final Selection now awaits the two parents. But what would prompt these strangers to appear to them? Let me know what you think in your comments and reviews along with what you liked/disliked or if you've got any neat ideas for future chapters! And for further updates on this and my other stories, check out my Pat reon for this and other stories along with other neat tidbits. Last thing, stop in next time as the parents are reunited at the sight of their first true battle against the demons! 'Til then.