My arms ached.
Every motion felt like dragging the sun behind me. Genzo didn't speak much during training—he just moved, and I followed. Or tried to.
The clearing behind his house had no clock, no bell, no signal of time passing. Just light and shadow, breath and silence. I swung until my fingers bled. I fell. Got up. Fell again.
Genzo offered no praise.
But he didn't send me away, either.
That, I decided, was something.
***
On the third day, he finally spoke while I was catching my breath.
"Your body's weak."
"I know."
"Your form is worse."
I looked up. "Is this encouragement?"
"No. This is truth."
He handed me a narrow gourd—the surface worn smooth from years of use, and sat beneath a low pine, arms crossed. "But your feet move like they've done this before. Your reflexes know something you don't."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
I sat beside him, spine burning.
"Did you ever see things?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
"Before you started training. Dreams. Memories that weren't yours."
He was quiet for a while.Then, "I saw myself die once."
I turned to him.
"Wasn't a nightmare," he continued. "Wasn't a vision. I was standing in a field—real field—and suddenly, I was lying in it. Blood in my mouth. Sword broken. Someone else's voice in my head."
He stood and picked up a staff from the ground.
"Didn't understand it. Still don't. But it taught me not to ignore what comes knocking."
Before I could ask more the wind shifted.
And the crows went silent.
***
The first one came out of the trees.
Not floating, like before. This one walked.
A full body, draped in shadow and bone-like armor, mask painted with inked kanji—warped and unreadable. It didn't rush. It didn't roar.
It knew it would be feared.
Genzo picked up his sword.
"Stay behind me."
I didn't. I stepped forward.
The thing tilted its head, noticing me for the first time.
The thread shimmered—faint, barely there—between it and me.
This one was older. Hungrier.
It struck.
Faster than I expected. Not a spirit anymore. Something more solid.
Genzo met it mid-charge. Steel against mask.
I tried to move, to help, but something in my chest twisted. My vision stuttered.
For a moment—just a breath—I saw myself through its eyes.A boy glowing with something ancient. Something buried. And behind me… flames. Dozens of threads stretching out behind my back like wings.
Then it was gone.
Genzo shouted, breaking the vision.
I swung my staff clumsily at the creature's side. It flinched.
Then Genzo's blade split the mask down the center.
The body collapsed into smoke and ash.
We were both breathing hard.
He looked at me differently now.
"You're not just haunted," he said. "You're carrying something with you."