Rain fell without mercy.
The storm that had arrived during the night showed no signs of ending.
Dark clouds covered the sky.
The mountains vanished behind curtains of gray.
The village roads had become rivers of mud.
Most people stayed indoors.
Most.
But not Fang.
Leo stood beneath the porch roof, arms crossed, watching the rain.
A few meters away, Fang stood alone in the open field behind their home.
Completely soaked.
Motionless.
The rain poured down his face.
Yet he didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't react.
He simply stood there.
Like a statue.
Like a mountain.
Like a samurai.
Leo frowned.
"You've been standing there forever."
No answer.
The boy sighed.
Then shouted louder.
"Are you even listening?"
Fang finally opened one eye.
"Maybe."
"You're weird."
"That's what makes me special."
Leo groaned.
The older man laughed.
Then slowly rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Immediately, the atmosphere changed.
The joking vanished.
The smile faded.
The playful father disappeared.
For the first time that day…
Leo saw the samurai.
The legendary warrior who once shook kingdoms.
The man hidden behind the gentle smiles.
Fang closed his eyes.
The rain continued falling.
Then—
His sword moved.
A silver flash.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Leo blinked.
The strike had been so fast he almost missed it.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then the rain around Fang split apart.
Thousands of droplets separated in a perfect line.
The water itself had been cut.
Leo's eyes widened.
"What…"
The boy jumped to his feet.
"What was that?!"
Fang slowly sheathed his sword.
"A swing."
"A SWING?!"
The older man nodded.
"Looked like one."
Leo stared.
The rain continued pouring.
Yet his heart was racing.
That wasn't normal.
That couldn't be normal.
For years he had known Fang was strong.
Everyone said so.
Everyone called him a legend.
But seeing it with his own eyes was different.
Completely different.
The gap between ordinary people and Fang felt endless.
Almost impossible to cross.
The samurai smiled again.
And just like that, the terrifying presence disappeared.
"Breakfast?"
Leo pointed at the field.
"You cut the rain!"
"I did."
"How?"
Fang shrugged.
"A lot of practice."
The answer nearly made Leo throw a rock at him.
The next few days became something Leo would never forget.
For the first time in his life…
Fang began teaching him.
Not reading.
Not farming.
Not repairing fences.
The sword.
A real sword.
The dream of every boy in the village.
The dream Leo never dared speak aloud.
Yet now it was happening.
The first lesson began at sunrise.
The mountain air was cold.
Mist covered the valley.
Fang handed him a wooden sword.
Leo stared at it.
His hands trembled slightly.
Excitement.
Fear.
Determination.
Everything mixed together.
Fang folded his arms.
"Ready?"
Leo nodded immediately.
The older man smiled.
Then struck him in the head.
Bonk.
"Ow!"
"Wrong answer."
Leo rubbed his forehead.
"What?"
Fang pointed at the sword.
"You held it wrong."
The boy looked down.
Sure enough.
His grip was terrible.
Fang sighed dramatically.
"We may need twenty years."
"Twenty years?!"
"Maybe thirty."
Leo lunged forward.
The older man laughed.
And so the training began.
It was much harder than Leo expected.
Far harder.
Movies in his imagination had lied.
Stories had lied.
Everything had lied.
Swordsmanship wasn't cool.
It wasn't glorious.
It wasn't elegant.
It hurt.
A lot.
His shoulders hurt.
His legs hurt.
His hands hurt.
Muscles he didn't know existed suddenly hated him.
Every day ended with new bruises.
Every morning started with pain.
Yet Leo never complained.
Not once.
Every time he fell…
He stood back up.
Every time he failed…
He tried again.
Every time Fang knocked him down…
He rushed forward.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And again.
One afternoon Fang watched silently as Leo struggled through another exercise.
The boy's breathing was heavy.
His arms shook.
Sweat covered his face.
Yet he continued swinging.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The wooden sword slipped from his hands.
Leo collapsed onto the grass.
Exhausted.
Fang walked over.
The older man picked up the sword.
Then sat beside him.
"You know…"
Leo stared at the sky.
"What?"
"Most people quit."
The boy remained silent.
Fang continued.
"Pain scares them."
"Failure embarrasses them."
The wind moved gently through the trees.
"But you keep getting up."
Leo finally looked at him.
"Shouldn't I?"
The answer surprised Fang.
The samurai laughed softly.
"No."
He ruffled the boy's hair.
"Most people don't."
For some reason, that answer stayed with Leo.
Long after the conversation ended.
Days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
And slowly…
The wooden sword began feeling natural in Leo's hands.
Not perfect.
Not even close.
But better.
Much better.
One evening, while training near the river, Fang suddenly tossed an apple into the air.
"Hit it."
Leo blinked.
"What?"
"Hit it."
The apple fell.
Leo swung.
Miss.
The apple landed in the water.
Fang laughed.
The next apple appeared.
Miss.
Third apple.
Miss.
Fourth.
Miss.
Fifth.
Miss.
Sixth—
THWACK.
The apple split in half.
Leo froze.
The two pieces dropped into the river.
Silence.
Then Fang started clapping dramatically.
"A miracle."
Leo rolled his eyes.
But couldn't hide his smile.
For the first time…
He felt progress.
Real progress.
The road ahead was still long.
But for the first time, he could see it.
And he wanted more.
Much more.
That night, after dinner, Fang sat outside watching the stars.
Leo joined him.
The valley was peaceful.
Quiet.
The kind of night people remember years later.
The samurai stared at the sky.
Then suddenly spoke.
"Leo."
"Yeah?"
"What do you think strength is?"
The question caught him off guard.
The boy thought carefully.
Then answered.
"Being able to win."
Fang smiled.
"A common answer."
"So it's wrong?"
"No."
The older man looked toward the mountains.
"It's incomplete."
Leo listened.
The samurai's voice became softer.
"Real strength isn't about defeating others."
The wind carried his words into the night.
"It's about protecting what matters."
Leo remained silent.
The lesson felt important.
Very important.
Yet he didn't fully understand it.
Not yet.
One day he would.
One day those words would become the center of his life.
But that day was still far away.
For now…
He was simply a boy sitting beside his father.
Watching the stars.
Dreaming about becoming a samurai.
Unaware that fate had already begun moving.
Far beyond the mountains.
Far beyond the peaceful valley.
The shadows were gathering.
And when they finally arrived…
Everything would change.