What Is Passed Down (3)

With a wooden sword in hand, I face Shizuki.

My spirit is full and I feel well; the sky is clear, yet it is neither hot nor cold.

The dojo is usually well ventilated, but now even the wind has fallen completely still.

It has been a very long time since I last faced Yosogi-ryu like this.

I have had no shortage of opportunities to spar during my travels, but facing an opponent from Yosogi-ryu still feels special to me.

The last time was... yes, perhaps when I fought Win.

Ah, no, perhaps it was when I accepted Juyal's challenge to a duel.

But Shizuki as he is now would be a far more formidable opponent than either of them.

Yes, even if his body has already aged and he has lost the strength he once possessed.

When I face him head-on, I cannot help remembering the past—and the ten-year-old boy he was when we first met.

Kaeha's child.

One of the twins.

I think Shizuki was an exceptionally capable child from the moment we met.

He was well educated, spoke and responded properly, and although he was not yet conscious of inheriting the school, he took the sword seriously.

He was almost too composed for his age.

Ah, come to think of it, Kaeha's other child, Mizuha, was the more mischievous one.

Within Shizuki, though, he harbored the loneliness of a child who did not know his father.

Shizuki slips into motion.

So fluidly and swiftly that I cannot tell when he even began to move.

Before I know it, he is already within striking distance, and his wooden sword is swinging.

With a sharp, dry crack, Shizuki's wooden sword clashes with mine.

I barely manage to intercept it.

No—by the time I recognized Shizuki's movement, my body had already moved on its own.

The correct way to put it is probably that the experience etched into my body reacted to Yosogi-ryu's techniques, and before I knew it, I was blocking the attack.

Also, after learning how to handle long weapons, the distance at which I stay wary is greater than before.

That must have worked in my favor.

But I was lucky to get away with it this time, and I have no more of that luck to spare.

After all, if it were Shizuki, it would be easy for him to deliberately maneuver me with Yosogi-ryu movements and then turn my own reaction against me.

Astonished voices rise from those around us at my successful defense against Shizuki's blow.

The spectators are Shizuki's children and grandchildren, along with the dojo's disciples.

Although we did not go around openly announcing that a sparring match would take place, people naturally gathered.

That is proof of how much respect Shizuki commands as the former head of the school.

...Well, setting that aside for now, it seems the difference in skill between Shizuki and me is greater than I expected.

I have studied Yosogi-ryu longer than he has, but there is no doubt that Shizuki devoted more of his life to the sword, and did so with greater intensity, than I did.

On top of that, he is the heir to both Kaeha's and Cleyas's talent with the sword.

I had expected there to be a gap, but still... this is a harsh reality.

Even though my own abilities should have improved by leaps and bounds on my journey to the eastern part of the continent, where an immortal taught me martial arts.

If I let the disparity intimidate me and simply wait for an opening, it is obvious I will be shut down without accomplishing anything.

That would be a terribly unsatisfying ending.

Winning or losing is not particularly important in this spar, but if I am shut down completely, I will not be able to show Shizuki everything I have, nor see all that he can do.

Wouldn't that be an unbearably pathetic conclusion?

Shizuki introduced me to his grandchildren as a father figure.

Those were truly, deeply heartening words.

Shizuki, who had harbored that loneliness, came to know his true father and spend time with him, and then went so far as to describe me that way.

In that case, I couldn't very well avoid trying to look a little cool.

I hold my breath, hone my ki to a fine point, and step forward.

What begins from there is an uninterrupted series of attacks.

I move two or three times as much as Shizuki, overwhelming him with the sheer number of my attacks.

But even while prioritizing the number of strikes, each blow must have weight and sharpness.

If I throw even a half-hearted blow, Shizuki as he is now will see through it with ease and counterattack.

Though I unleash attack after attack, I do not hold back on any of them.

And this, too, is a sword technique I learned from Kaeha.

Ah, no, I learned all my swordsmanship from Kaeha, but this particular technique is probably one that only I was taught in Yosogi-ryu.

A sword technique that lets me deliver a sharp blow even when I have not had time to prepare, or even when my posture has broken down.

Kaeha mastered it for my sake and passed it on to me.

Because of it, I can keep delivering sharp blows with every attack, even as my posture breaks down.

I use the motion of one attack to recover my posture, then break it again with the next, sending my sword out without pause.

Shizuki's expression changed slightly as he parried the relentless barrage.

The sword Kaeha did not pass on to his gifted son, who had no need of it because he possessed all three of mind, technique, and body.

How ironic that this is what I am using to press Shizuki.

Yet when I cross swords with the aged Shizuki like this, I understand.

...Shizuki truly never needed this technique.

Even though I should far surpass him in brute strength and stamina, Shizuki turns aside every attack in my unbroken barrage.

Whether it comes straight at him or leaps up from a broken stance, he turns aside each strike without fail.

Every last one—the storm of sword strikes that even a mediocre swordsman, no, even a swordsman considered first-rate, could not withstand for ten seconds.

I have learned to launch sharp attacks even while my posture is breaking apart, but Shizuki simply does not break—he is like a mountain rooted in the earth.

Then even a violent storm cannot last forever.

Just as I cannot hold my breath forever.

Ah, if I had reached Kaeha's level, then no matter how skilled Shizuki was, he should not have been able to fend off every one of these strikes.

I am... terribly frustrated by that.

Taking advantage of the brief gap when one of my strikes slowed even slightly, Shizuki's wooden sword is thrust toward my throat.

Quietly, cleanly.

And with that, the spar is over.

Shizuki nods as if satisfied, withdraws his wooden sword, and bows once.

I likewise withdraw my sword and bow, but cannot hide how hard I am breathing.

For the first time in a long while, I have suffered a defeat so complete it feels refreshing.

I really am still far too weak, and the destination I seek remains a very long way off.

That realization filled me with frustration and... a strange joy.