I walked through the familiar streets, through which I used to play and run around in, in my past life.

An uncontained sorrow began to surface up inside my heart, as I looked around. The same streets, same roads, same houses. Everything was exactly the same, looked the same, felt the same.

Except...

Except for me.

I was no longer the same person I was in the past. But I was also still the same, not in body, but in mind. I was no longer Shun, the person who had been picked up from these streets by Master. Caressed by Fujimoto, showered by their familial love and warmth.

My face was calm, so calm that I myself was surprised. But my heart...it was beating fast. As if it could jump out of my chest at a moments time. A weird warmth began to spiral up my spine, as I walked through the streets. A wry smile plastering itself over my face.

Each step I took, my heartbeat quickened, and my mind raced. I had never felt as nervous as I did today. I lightly clenched my sweaty hands as I sped up my pace.

What would I tell them if I met them? Would they still remember about me? How are they doing? I want to meet them!

All of these thoughts and questions swirled in my mind like a wild tempest. I wanted to meet them, Master and Fujimoto. But...what would—could—I say?

But of course, they wouldn’t remember me. Not even Han remembered anything. So I held no hope for them to remember anything associated to my past self—to Shun. About the time we had spent together, like a family.

But still, if there was even a inkling of hope, I would turn to grasp it. But there wasn’t any.

‘Family...huh?’

Even if they had forgotten, I would never. Each moment I spent with them was more precious to me than anything. They treated me—someone who had no family or anything—like a member of their own family. Master treated me like his own son, and Fujimoto treated me like his own brother. Cared for me like a mother.

But now I was scared—my mind was contradicting my heart. Each beat my heart made, it hammered the question in my mind: if I were to not meet them in this life, would their fates and life change? Will they get to live?

But that was only my own wishful thinking.

They had showed me such warmth, such care, which I would never be able to repay them for. They made me the man I was today. They were my pride. So I didn’t wanted to see them die...again. If I had the option of taking their place, then I gladly would have, I would have died in their stead.

I would—could—do anything for them. So if that choice let to their livelihood, then I wouldn’t mind not meeting them—facing them.

But even so, if I could just catch a quick—single—glimpse of them, I would be satisfied.

But it pained me deeply, that they wouldn’t remember about me. But...despite that, all that mattered to me was that, they were still alive and well. Even if they...didn’t remember anything.

The sorrow in my eyes deepened, as I remembered the memory of Master taking the last of his breaths in my arms. I had let Master die.

How could I face him after so long. Will I be able to forgive myself now? Will I try to?

No...I already knew the answer to that. Deep within me—despite after regressing back in time—there was a part of me which still kept blaming me for allowing Master to die. Even if Master didn’t blame me for his death...I still did. I had let the man who cared for me like a Father die.

I still vividly remembered the final cold touch of his hands. I clenched my hands hard, as I gritted my teeth with an uncontained fury; entirely pointed at myself.

But I relaxed myself a moment later.

But not this time. I will become strong. Stronger than anyone, to protect what is precious to me. This time I won’t let anything happen to them, or anyone else.

The sun blazed high up, as a bead of sweat ran down my side. I took a sharp right turn, and something soft—squishy—bashed into my face.

I stumbled a step, as I half groaned, wiping my face off whatever had bashed into me.

I lowered my hand and saw it was covered with some sticky gel like liquid, with seeds all over my fingers and palm. But lifting my head, I saw a youth hurriedly running down the hill, as he tried to catch the tomatoes rolling down.

I didn’t focus my attention at the youth, but hurriedly caught almost all of the tomatoes. I bagged them within my arms, and walked up to the youth.

“Here you go,” I said as I handed him the tomatoes.

But as I focused on the youth’s face, my eyes shot open momentarily, as a mixture of emotion began to swirl inside my heart. I froze on the spot as I gazed at the man standing in front of me.

The youth’s long glossy auburn hair were the same as I had remembered—maybe a little longer—, and his emerald eyes displaying the same warmth which I still vividly remembered. He was wearing a maroon yukata, with his hair let loose.

I kept looking at Fujimoto as my lips quivered. My eyes harboured a relieved softness, as a saddened smile flashed over my face. My mind blanked for a moment, as I stuttered to say something, but held back.

I felt relief wash over me as I looked at the man I had once called my brother—who had cared for me like a mother figure.

I...

“Is something wrong?” Fujimoto asked tilting his head ever-so-slightly, as he took the tomatoes from my hand and placed them in the shopping bag he was carrying. He held two over-filled shopping bags in his hands, but the one he held in his right, had a small gaping hole ripped from the bottom, through which I think the tomatoes had fallen out of.

“N-No, it’s nothing,” I quickly said handing him the last of the tomatoes.

“I am really sorry for the inconvenience, and...” Fujimoto apologised, as he pulled a white handkerchief out of the shopping bag and handed it to me. “And also for ruining your uniform.”

I looked down at my uniform after Fujimoto pointed out, and it was covered with the same liquid and seeds. I took the handkerchief from him, then spoke.

“Please don’t worry about it. It's not a big deal.”

Fujimoto looked at me with apologetic eyes, as he suggested something.

“Well, if you don’t mind, my house is close by, so I can wash your uniform for you?"

I thought for a second, but for some reason I wasn’t able to decline. Rather I didn’t wanted to. I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. My heart had defeated my mind. My mind told me to not, but my heart was aching to stay here in this moment, together with Fujimoto.

But now, I was merely just a random stranger to him. But spending a little bit time wouldn’t change anything, would it?

“Then, I would like to take you up on your offer,” I said with a bright smile. As I wiped my face off of the tomato with the handkerchief given to me by Fujimoto.

Fujimoto pulled a step, then both of us began go climb up the hill. From time to time, I would turn my gaze toward Fujimoto. My lips trembled as I tried to say something, but came past a sudden lump in my throat.

‘What should I say?’ I thought looking at Fujimoto. ‘Does he remember anything about me?’ ‘Why am I still holding on to false hope, that isn’t like me!’

But I pushed these thoughts at the back of my head.

But from the corner of my eyes, I saw that Fujimoto was somewhat struggling with carrying both of the shopping bags. A smile tucked up my lips, as seeing him carry the bags reminded of his honest and hardworking nature. Without even thinking, I took the heavier one from him.

“Oh, please, you don’t have to,” Fujimoto quipped, as he pulled the bag away, but regardless I took it from him.

He finally gave in and opened his mouth to speak. “All I have been doing is cause you trouble.” He said with a sigh.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Please, don’t worry about it. And I am Seo Jiwoo.” I introduced myself whilst taking a step forward, adjusting the bag in my hand.

“Oh right, I haven’t introduced myself yet have I? I am Fujimoto Takeru,” Fujimoto’s smile shined as brightly as the suns, which made a warmth to cover the dark corners of my heart.

“You must be one of the students from Lock, if I am correct?” Fujimoto asked as we finally climbed the hill and made our way back to the house.

“Yes, but...how do you know?” I nodded, then asked as I cocked my head in his direction.

“Well, first of all the uniform, and second, I had heard it from Master about it,” Fujimoto said.

“Master?” I said in an almost inaudible whisper.

But I paused as I heard him say Master. Fujimoto looked above his shoulder and asked. “He is the person whom I live with! But...is something wrong, Jiwoo-kun? You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?”

I shook my head and replied. “No, I don’t mind, then can I call you Fujimoto?”

“Go ahead,” Fujimoto said with a friendly smile over his face, with his voice laced with warmth.

We talked about a few things on the way, and soon we reached our destination.

The long sturdy pale white walls were the same as I had remembered. I now really felt nostalgic after coming home after such a long time.

Fujimoto pushed the six foot wooden gate open, sequentially gesturing for me to following him inside.

I entered through the gate, and saw that the concrete ground which led to the front door—the octagonal designs still the same—,and the patches of grass which grew on both sides which led to the backyard. We reached the door, and Fujimoto slid it open.

We both entered and I placed the heavy bag, over the wooden floor which led to the inside of the house.

I sat down on the floor and took my shoes off. Fujimoto handed me a pair of slippers, and I wore them on.

I took in the smell of the old house as I darted my head left to right. Everything still looked the same. From the floor to the ceiling, from the texture of the walls to the entire structure.

“Right this way,” Fujimoto pressed his heel against the wooden floor and moved forward. The floor creaked just like I remembered as I also stepped inside. Painting were hung alongside both of the walls, as the sunlight illuminated the inside of the corridor.

But a few feet away from me there was a vase, which was resting over an old wooden table.

It was two meters in diameter, and three meters in length, as I had remembered. It had a flowery peach colour, with sky blue lines spiralling on its surface, with a tint of red on the edges.

“This is?” I said, as I peered ahead at the old vase.

“This is a relic from the past. Its almost three hundred years old.” Fujimoto commented as he stopped to look at the vase, together with me. “You like it?”

I nodded my head, as I looked at the vase.

This vase may have been an old relic, but it was something which held a deep meaning to me. I still remembered, when I accidentally broken this vase, Fujimoto had gotten a little mad at me. But in the end he forgave me, regardless. These small moments were the most enjoyable and everlasting for me.

Then following him from behind, we soon entered Fujimoto’s room. He slid the door to the side and stepped into the room. The room was covered with tatami mats and had a pale greenish colour.

Fujimoto walked up to the closet, placed on the further edge of the room, and pulled a black yukata from inside. He then turned around and brought it back.. He handed it to me, then spoke.

“You can wear this while I clean your uniform.”

I took the yukata from his hands.

“The washroom is at the end of the left corridor, so you can go and wash up, then leave your uniform after you’re done,” Fujimoto added as I nodded my head and then quickly made my way toward the washroom.

I took a sharp left turn and then walked to the end of the corridor. Everything was the same, to the floor, to the glass windows on my right side which opened up to a small engawa.

Soon the washroom came into view. I stepped inside and then began to take my soiled uniform off. My clothes now had a ranky smell of tomatoes mixed with sweat.

“Bah, it's smells terrible,” I said as I sniffed my uniform.

I threw it inside a basket a few feet away and then entered the familiar washroom.

***

After finishing my bath, I took the yukata and wore it on. After wrapping the obi, I looked at myself one last time in the mirror, then exited the washroom.

I turned right and then began to walk through the wide corridor.

As if I was unbothered by all the worries of the world, and my own, i this particular moment. I felt like I had gone back to the old days.

I kept making my way through the wide corridors, as I soon came to a sudden halt. A few meters away from me was Master’s room.

I walked up to the door, and slowly slid the sliding door. I gulped once, as the door opened revealing the same room in which I used to play inside.

There was an engawa at the edge of the room, connecting it with the garden, where the cherry blossom tree still stood. It’s branches lightly swayed with the breeze which blew past it.

I stepped inside and observed the room. Everything looked the same, nothing was out of sorts.

There was an old closet which had a dusty brown colour placed to the left side, and on the right was placed a stand on which a katana was resting over it. It’s hilt and scabbard had a shiny obsidian colour as the pommel had a red string-like ornaments attached to it.

I walked up to the katana and tried to grab it but hearing the noise of foot steps, I pulled my arm back and looked back at the door.

“So this is where you were,” Fujimoto announced his arrival, as he stepped inside the room with a tray held in his hands.

He inched closer to me and saw that I was observing the Katana placed over the stand prior to his arrival.

“This is Master’s katana,” Fujimoto pointed out, as he walked up to the engawa and placed the tray down. He gestured me and I walked up and sat down at the edge of the engawa, with my legs crossed.

“Master is the owner of his house, and I work for him,” Fujimoto added.

I nodded my head in acknowledgement, as I took the cup of herbal tea which Fujimoto had brewed.

Of course, I already knew that. Because, Fujimoto’s family had been a family of caretakers from the start and had close ties with Master’s Family, so the Fujimoto family swore themselves to Master’s family. And have since been working for them. And all of this goes back to the Edo-period.

This house itself was also a few centuries old, as Master had told me.

“I have washed your uniform, but it will take a while for it to dry up,” Fujimoto said, as he looked me in the eye. “I will be back after taking care of the groceries.”

I nodded and Fujimoto went back to perform his duties.

A cold breeze blew past me, as I sipped the tea alone. It’s taste was the same as in the past. To my liking. Compared to all the herbal teas I had drank, the tea which Fujimoto brewed was the best.

But, my eyes caught a wooden bokken laying over the ground, a few feet away.

I placed the cup to my side and stepped forward into the wide garden. I extended my arm and took the bokken in my right hand.

I nonchalantly swinged the bokken in my hand. But with a push, I performed a horizontal slash, sequentially sidestepping and adding a diagonal to it.

Then, I firmed my grip over it’s hilt and took in a deep breath, I closed my eyes, as I began to focus entirely on the noise of the wind, and sense the movement of the mana in the atmosphere.

All noises disappeared for a moment as I focused.

My clothes began to flutter ever-so-slightly by the breeze, as I felt for the mana, it was swarming around me.

Then I released my stance and performed a vertical slash. The air shook in front of me, as I took another deep breath. Opening my eyes, I turned my head back toward the room, and saw Fujimoto standing near the engawa. Observing me with a keen eye.

I jumped a step; startled, that Fujimoto had caught me.

“You were there?” I asked “You should have said something?”

A bright smile plastered over Fujimoto’s face, as he spoke. “You were so immersed, so I didn’t wanted to disturb you, Jiwoo-kun. But...you were a swordsman?”

“Yes!”

But Fujimoto was holding a tray in his hands, which had two sticks of dango placed over it.

“I forgot to bring you something to eat, so I went back to quickly get this,” He exclaimed, as I drifted closer to the engawa and sat down, leaning the bokken against the engawa.

“But do you practice some kind of sword art? It kind of reminded me of a movement which Master utilises.”

I smiled upon hearing Fujimoto.

“Yes, I utilise a sword art which increases the speed and power of the user upon the release of the movement,” I answered.

But I couldn’t just tell him that I was the successor of the Crescent Moon Style, which Master created on his own.

Well, Fujimoto already knew all about the Crescent Moon Style, but he just didn't have the aptitude to learn it. But he had seen Master perform all of the movement, which I was jealous of, because Master was always a cheapskate when it came to showing me the Crescent Moon Style.

He only showed me the movements once, then told me to try to replicate it, and improve it on my own.

“That description is also awfully similar,” Fujimoto commented with a raise of his brows.

“Is that so?" I said with a slight incline of my head.

***

After spending two hours in my old house, I conversed with Fujimoto about various topics regarding the academy, how it teaches the students, the accommodation system and other facilities inside the Lock.

But now it was about time I left. I had changed back into my uniform and was now standing outside the house together with Fujimoto.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Fujimoto,” I said respectfully bowing my head at him. My heart felt warm, the time I spend here, I felt like I had returned to the precious days of my past.

With a bright smile Fujimoto replied. “Yes it was great meeting you, Jiwoo-kun. It's only a pity that Master wasn’t home today, or you could have met him. Both of you being sword wielders, I mean...”

“Who isn’t home?”

But I lifted my head in a hurry, as I heard a deep masculine voice coming from behind Fujimoto.

“Oh Master, you’re finally back,” Fujimoto said, turning looking above his shoulder.

But I kept blankly staring at him. All the emotion which I had held back, finally released from their shackles.

I almost teared up, but held myself back, as I looked at him. His shoulder length jet black hair looked the same and his deep ocean blue eyes displayed the same solemnness as they did in the past.

“I-I...,” I stuttered as I tried to say something, anything. But I didn’t know what. I wanted to apologise to him. Hug him. Talk to him like we used to.

But the guilt which bounded my heart, telling me I didn’t deserve to. That I had no right to apologise or to do any of that.

Master placed his hand over his chin and he gazed at me. “Have...we met somewhere before?” He mused.

My face flummoxed as I kept looked at Master. ‘Does he remembers?’ But, even if I had told myself not to. I had held on to that false hope that Master might still have remembered me.

“No, I don’t think we have met before,” He added quickly.

“Yeah, you’re right, this is the first time we are meeting, of course,” I said, as my lips slightly trembled.

A weak smile covered my face, as I respectfully bowed my head—bowing as low and respectfully as I could.

‘Thank you! Thank you for raising me! Thank you for making me the man I was today! Thank you for everything!' I inwardly recited as I broke my bow a moment later, and with a bright smile, I said goodbye.

“Then I should get going now. It was great meeting you, Fujimoto and M-Master.”

Fujimoto nodded and Master inclined his head with a question mark over his face. I turned around and then began to walk away.

‘Turn around! Say something, anything! You can’t just leave like this!’ My mind was in turmoil. I wanted to stay with them just a bit longer now, but...

After you leave, there's no turning back.

But I forced my body, and turned over my heel and finally turned around.

Fujimoto and Master were still standing outside the gate. Looking at my departing figure.

I took a deep breath and puffed my chest as I exclaimed.

“THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR EVERYTHING!!!!”

Then once again I bowed, then as I broke the bow, I quickly left to complete the task I had came here to perform.

‘Thank you, Master! Thank you Takeru!’