The General gave no warning.
He never did. Haru had learned that over the last few hours of training. Warnings were a luxury for people who had time. Real combat had no time.
Haru hit the ground for the twentieth time that hour.
Not hard enough to knock him out, not a complete defeat. The kind of fall that happens when you're beginning to understand something but your body still hasn't caught up. Knee on the ground, hand on the ground, sword out of the ideal angle.
The General stood beside him, neither satisfied nor disappointed. Just waiting.
"Again." He said.
Haru stood up.
Not slowly from exhaustion, but quickly, the kind of speed that came from respect for what the other represented. Standing up slowly in front of the General felt like bad posture, not physical weakness.
The General attacked.
Haru blocked, the movement he had practiced a hundred times over the past few hours, repeated so often it was becoming automatic.
