Chapter 20 Part 1: Life in the Woods

Deep within the dense forest, where sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy of leaves above, stood a secluded cabin. The humble abode, made from aged timber and thatched roof, blended seamlessly with its surroundings. It was here that Kazuki and Shôkin Kagiri had sought refuge for the past two months.

Kazuki stood at the bottom of a roaring waterfall, his eyes fixed on an invisible foe. The cascading water pummeled his head and shoulders as he executed each precise movement in his sword training. The misty air swirled around him, dampening the fabric of his kimono and mingling with the sweat that coated his chiseled form.

"Kuroyama... Kaze..." he muttered under his breath, imagining his enemies standing before him. His black samurai sword, an extension of his very being, sliced through the air with a lethal grace that belied his ferocity.

"Yaaah!" he cried out, delivering a powerful swing that sent droplets spraying in all directions.

Two months of relentless training had transformed Kazuki's appearance. His once neatly-trimmed hair now hung long and disheveled, dark as the night. A full beard covered his face, giving him the look of a wild, untamed warrior—the antithesis of the clean-shaven man he had once been.

"Are you still not satisfied?" called out Shôkin Kagiri from the doorway of the cabin, concern etched into his wrinkled visage. "You've been at this since dawn."

Kazuki paused momentarily, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. "I must be prepared," he replied, determination burning in his striking blue eyes. "I will not rest until I have reclaimed my honor."

Shôkin sighed, knowing there was no dissuading his young disciple. "Very well," he relented, "Do not let your training consume you."

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

In the hush of dusk, Shôkin moved through the humble space of his cabin. The scent of seasoned cedar, mingling with the comforting notes of pine and smoky warmth, filled the air.

His existence within these walls was unadorned. A table, scarred by the passage of countless meals, anchored a kitchenette where pots hung like silent observers. Nearby, two neatly made beds offered promises of rest. A solitary window offered views of the untamed wilderness beyond. And at the heart of it all, a fireplace gently cradled a kettle over its welcoming flames.

The piercing whistle of the kettle claimed Shôkin's attention, pulling him back to his immediate task. With practiced ease, he used his lone arm to pour the steaming brew into two cups. His once powerful limb, now shaken by a persistent tremor, betrayed his declining strength. Despite the challenge, his soft smile persisted, a tribute to the resilient spirit mirrored in the very cabin surrounding him. It was clear that though he had one arm, his resolve remained unbroken.

Shôkin's mind wandered back to Minoh village, where he had first encountered Kazuki. He marveled at how much his young disciple had changed in the past two months—both physically and mentally. Kazuki's determination was commendable, but Shôkin worried that his relentless pursuit of revenge would ultimately consume him.

"Perseverance is crucial," Shôkin muttered to himself, "but so is balance."

Just as he finished pouring the tea, a violent coughing fit seized him, causing him to drop the kettle. The sound of shattering glass and metal echoed through the cabin, mingling with his choked gasps for air. Blood spilled from his mouth, splattering the floor beneath him.

Outside, Kazuki's keen ears picked up on the commotion, and his heart lurched with worry. Abandoning his training, he sprinted towards the cabin, water streaming off his soaked body like a river in full spate. Bursting through the door, he found Shôkin slumped on the floor, gasping for breath and clutching his chest.

"Master!" Kazuki cried out, panic surging through him as he dropped to his knees beside the old man. "What's happening? What can I do?"

Shôkin struggled to speak between ragged breaths, blood staining his lips. "It...it is nothing, Kazuki. Just...just help me up."

But Kazuki knew better. Shôkin's health had been in decline for weeks, and this violent episode was a stark reminder of his mentor's mortality. With trembling hands, Kazuki helped the old man to his feet and guided him towards his bed, his mind racing with fear and concern.