Chapter 2 – The Ones He Can't Lose
The bruises on his knuckles didn't hurt as much as they probably should have.
Karna opened his eyes slowly, greeted by the pale morning light filtering through the cracked apartment window. He stared silently at his hands, raw and blistered from last night's relentless swings. Dried blood clung to his fingers, staining the edges of his bandages.
He sat up without making a sound. The apartment was still quiet—his parents were asleep, probably exhausted after working too many shifts again. He could hear his mother's soft, rhythmic breathing through the thin walls, steady but strained.
Karna rose quietly, padding across the creaky wooden floor to the small kitchen. He reheated leftover rice, ate without tasting it, and then meticulously washed the bowl.
Before leaving, he paused in his parents' doorway. His mother's hand lay exposed from beneath the blankets, a fresh, poorly wrapped bandage stained crimson. His father slept beside her, face etched with lines of exhaustion even in rest.
Karna's eyes lingered there, emotion burning silently in his chest.
Without a word, he turned away, stepped outside, and picked up the broomstick again.
It wasn't a sword—not yet.
But today, for now, it would be enough.
Later that day...
Karna moved through the dim silence of an abandoned warehouse—his makeshift training ground. The cracked concrete echoed with every step. He swung his branch-turned-sword with sharp precision, lost in rhythm, until a sudden sound cut through the stillness.
He froze. Head snapping toward the source, his muscles tensed, ready for a fight.
A boy emerged from behind a pillar. Slightly taller, with ash-blond hair and a casual grin. He raised both hands in peace.
"Whoa, man—chill out. Didn't mean to startle you. Just didn't expect to find another kid out here training," the boy said. "Especially not one who knows about this place."
Karna didn't relax. "Who are you?" he spat.
The boy stepped closer, extending a hand. "Name's Kaito. Kaito Renji."
Karna eyed the hand, refusing to release his grip on the branch.
Kaito sighed dramatically. "Really, dude? It's just a handshake."
After a long pause, Karna finally eased up and shook his hand. "Karna. Karna Kusanagi."
Kaito's grin widened. "Nice to meet you, Karna. By the way, no offense—but I noticed a couple of things while watching you train. Your form's great, but your feet? Kinda sloppy. You've never had formal training, have you?"
Karna blinked. A critique? From someone his age?
"Show me, then," he replied coolly.
"Gladly."
They squared off.
Kaito studied Karna's stance and tensed slightly as he locked eyes with him. Karna's stare wasn't just focused—it was dissecting. It felt like he could see through flesh and into movement itself. Kaito exhaled slowly, realizing he'd been holding his breath.
Karna made the first move, sprinting forward with his branch raised. Kaito stepped in with a punch, aiming for the chest—but Karna vanished under his line of sight, ducking low.
With a smooth flick, Karna switched his grip into reverse and thrust the branch at Kaito's exposed ribs. Kaito twisted away at the last moment.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped, clutching his chest. "I swear I almost felt that hit me."
"Sloppy footwork," Karna replied.
Kaito grinned and lunged.
They clashed again—feint, dodge, spin. Kaito went low with a sweep. Karna jumped, turned, and tried a spinning back kick. Kaito sidestepped, slid inside, and delivered a clean punch to Karna's gut.
Spit flew from Karna's mouth as he hit the ground with a grunt.
"You might've dodged that," Kaito teased, "if your feet were more disciplined."
Karna clicked his tongue. "Fine, you win. So what now?"
"Now," Kaito said proudly, "you're coming with me to my dojo. You've got talent—and if you learn real martial arts? You'll be terrifying. Or do you plan to keep fighting like a savage?"
Karna hesitated. Joining a dojo could mean real strength… but he didn't know if he could trust this kid.
Then again, what reason did he have to lie?
"Sure," Karna said. "I'll come."
"You made the right choice."
A few minutes later...
The two walked side by side under a sky painted gold with late afternoon light. Kaito pointed out graffiti on walls, old broken vending machines, shortcuts through alleyways. Karna remained mostly quiet, but listened.
"So, Karna," Kaito asked as they walked, "what made you pick up a sword? Or, uh… a branch, I guess. What makes a kid our age want to train like that?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"No reason," Kaito shrugged. "We're friends now, right? Friends look out for each other. If you ever want to talk, I'm here."
Silence. Then—
"My mom and dad both work multiple part-time jobs. They bust their asses just to keep the lights on and make sure I eat. Sometimes they skip meals. Every time I tell them not to, they say, 'You're the growing one.'
"But they're only twenty-seven. They should be living their best years, not breaking their backs for me. I stole their youth from them."
Karna's voice cracked. Tears spilled.
Kaito didn't speak. He let the silence hold Karna like a blanket.
They sat together on a curb outside an empty lot. Karna buried his face into his arms.
Between sniffles, Karna continued:
"When I was born, they said I didn't cry. That I just stared at a sword-shaped shadow on the wall. When I got older, I only watched old samurai films. The sword was everything."
His voice steadied.
"The sword is all I have. I've got no friends, no family besides my parents. I don't know how sword skills will solve anything, but I believe… if I just keep swinging… it'll all make sense someday."
Kaito blinked, then grinned.
"So, you're just a sword addict."
Karna froze. Looked at him.
Kaito didn't flinch.
Karna's frown twitched. Then—
He laughed. A sharp, sudden, real laugh.
Kaito joined in.
The two of them kept laughing until they were out of breath, heads tilted toward the sky. For the first time in Karna's life, someone had heard his pain and stayed. And laughed with him anyway.
As they walked the rest of the way to the dojo, Karna finally asked, "So, you train every day?"
Kaito nodded. "Yup. Every morning before school and every evening after. Rain or shine."
Karna nodded slowly. "Good."
He looked ahead at the street. The sun was dipping lower now, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.
"Because I'm not gonna fall behind."
Kaito smirked. "Didn't think you would."
They reached the edge of the district, where rundown buildings gave way to a wider street and a modest structure tucked between two vending machine stations. A faded banner read: RENJI DOJO.
Inside, a group of older kids were training—punching bags, sparring on mats. The floor was scuffed, the walls were worn, but everything was clean and full of life.
Karna stepped inside and felt something shift. Not in the room—in him.
He didn't say a word. Just bowed slightly at the threshold.
Kaito glanced over, eyes gleaming. "Welcome to the first step of the rest of your life, partner."
And under the fading light of day, with sweat on their brows and purpose in their hearts, two boys took their first real step toward the future.
One born with the soul of a sword. The other ready to sharpen it.