Several days had passed since Akira first taught him about Pulse and Assertion.
Spring had settled properly over the Wind Clan village now. The harsh bite of winter was gone, replaced by warm sunlight and a steady breeze that carried the smell of fresh grass across the training grounds behind the Kaze estate. Everything felt calmer than before—too calm, almost—like the world itself was quietly holding its breath.
Kaito stood in the middle of the field with a wooden sword gripped tightly in both hands. His stance was still a little uneven, his feet not quite planted the way they were supposed to be, but he didn't loosen his grip. Across from him, Akira stood in the same open space, holding his own wooden blade loosely at his side. He looked relaxed, almost careless, like this wasn't even worth taking seriously.
But Kaito had already learned that appearance meant nothing when it came to Akira.
Even when he was standing still, there was a strange pressure around him. Not heavy in a physical sense, but enough to make the air feel… stable. Like a mountain that didn't need to announce its presence to be noticed.
"Remember what I told you," Akira said, his voice calm and even. "Pulse isn't just something you use inside your body. Anything connected to you can be reinforced by it."
Kaito swallowed and adjusted his grip slightly.
"…Right."
"Start with the blade," Akira continued. "Strength first. Then sharpness. Then reduce its weight. If you do it correctly, it'll feel like an extension of your arm."
A light breeze passed between them, rustling the grass.
"If you fail," Akira added casually, almost as if he was commenting on the weather, "the sword breaks."
Kaito felt his stomach tighten.
"…Got it."
Akira tilted his head slightly. "Ready?"
Kaito nodded once.
"Then come."
The moment those words left Akira's mouth, everything changed.
Kaito moved without thinking.
His body shot forward, faster than it should have been for someone his age, grass bending and scattering beneath his feet. At the same time, he pushed Pulse into his arms, letting it flow down into the wooden sword. He imagined it filling the blade, tightening it, reinforcing every fiber until it became something stronger than wood.
The sword trembled faintly in his hands.
Then— CLACK. Their blades met.
The sound rang sharply across the field.
Kaito's arms jolted from the impact, a shock running up to his shoulders, but the sword held. It didn't break. That alone gave him a small surge of relief.
Akira's eyebrows lifted just slightly.
"…Not bad."
Before Kaito could even respond, Akira was gone.
No movement, no warning—just gone.
Kaito's instincts flared instantly.
He turned—CLACK!
A strike hit from behind. Barely in time, Kaito raised his sword to block it, but the force still pushed him forward, sliding him across the grass. His feet dug shallow lines into the ground before he managed to steady himself.
Too fast…!
Another strike came immediately.
CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!
Left, right, then overhead. The rhythm wasn't chaotic—it was controlled, precise, like Akira already knew exactly where Kaito would be before he moved. Kaito could only react. He poured more Pulse into the blade, desperately keeping it from giving in.
The wooden sword began to hum faintly, as if responding.
Then Akira shifted.
He slipped inside Kaito's guard in an instant.
Too close.
Kaito's eyes widened—WHACK.
A blunt hit landed against his ribs.
"Dead," Akira said simply.
Kaito stumbled back, breathing harder now, chest rising and falling quickly.
"…Again," Akira said.
Kaito gritted his teeth and this time, he didn't hesitate.
He moved forward again, but instead of just reinforcing blindly, he focused harder. He *felt* the Pulse differently now—less like force, more like structure. Like something he could shape instead of just push.
The sword in his hands felt lighter.
Stronger and more stable.
Akira struck again.
This time—CLACK.
Kaito met it cleanly. The impact still rattled his arms, but he held his ground. Then, without thinking too long, he twisted his wrist and swung back.
The wooden blade cut through the air faster than before.
Akira leaned away just enough for it to miss by a narrow margin.
A faint sound escaped him.
"…Hm."
Then he stepped forward again.
The pace changed instantly.
The calm training field was no longer calm at all.
Their blades clashed repeatedly, wood striking wood in rapid bursts that echoed through the air. Wind picked up around them, kicked up by their movement, grass bending under their shifting footing.
Kaito's breathing grew heavier, but he didn't stop. He couldn't afford to. Every time he felt the sword weaken, he pushed more Pulse into it, forcing it to hold together.
For a moment—just a moment—he kept up.
Akira attacked faster.
So did Kaito.
CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!
The rhythm tightened, became sharper, more intense. Kaito could feel his entire arm burning, but he stayed in it. Stayed upright. Stayed moving.
Then a sharp sound cracked through the air.
CRACK.
A thin fracture appeared along the wooden blade.
Kaito saw it immediately.
So did Akira.
"Don't lose focus," Akira said calmly.
Kaito's jaw tightened. He pushed more Pulse into the sword, desperately trying to stabilize it. The crack stopped spreading, but his control felt shaky now—like holding something that wanted to fall apart at any second.
Sweat ran down his temple.
Akira moved again. A bit faster than before.
Kaito raised his blade to meet him
CLACK!
The impact was heavier this time.
And Akira smiled.
The force drove Kaito backward, his feet dragging across the grass as he skidded several meters before finally managing to stop himself, chest heaving.
The sword was still intact—but just barely.
But the sword didn't break.
Akira lowered his weapon and exhaled softly, as if the training had simply reached its natural end rather than a decisive moment. "That's enough," he said.
Kaito immediately collapsed backward onto the grass, chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His arms felt heavy, like they belonged to someone else. Akira walked over at a relaxed pace, glancing down at him with that usual calm expression. "You reinforced the sword well," he said. "Your pulse control is improving."
Kaito wiped sweat from his face and let out a tired breath. "It almost broke."
"But it didn't," Akira replied without much emphasis, crouching down. He tapped the wooden sword lightly with two fingers, almost like he was testing a thought rather than an object. "The pulse you fed into it stabilized the structure. That's why it held."
Kaito pushed himself into a sitting position, still breathing heavily. "But I still couldn't land a hit on you."
A faint smirk appeared on Akira's face. "You weren't supposed to."
"That's not encouraging," Kaito muttered, frowning.
Akira gave a short chuckle. "You're six."
Kaito crossed his arms stubbornly. "That's not the point."
Akira rested his wooden sword across his shoulders and looked out over the training grounds as if the conversation was just another part of the scenery. "The point of today's training wasn't to defeat me," he said. "It was to maintain reinforcement under pressure."
Kaito glanced down at his sword again, remembering how it had felt in his hands—like it was alive, almost resisting collapse. "You did that longer than before," Akira continued, "but you're still wasting too much pulse."
Kaito looked up. "I am?"
"You're forcing it," Akira said simply, tapping lightly on Kaito's chest. "Pulse should flow. Not struggle."
Kaito tilted his head slightly. "Like breathing?"
"Exactly."
Akira stood again, turning his gaze toward the open field beyond the training grounds. "When you push too hard, the rhythm breaks." He glanced back at Kaito. "Remember what we discussed."
Kaito straightened a little, automatically reciting, "Body, Soul, Spirit, Connection, Consciousness, Essence, Ontology, Memory, and Will."
Akira nodded once. "When those align naturally, your pulse stabilizes on its own."
Kaito thought about it for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. "So instead of forcing the sword to become stronger…"
"Let the pulse shape it," Akira finished for him.
Kaito slowly nodded. "...I think I get it."
"You're learning faster than most," Akira said, though his tone stayed casual.
Kaito's expression brightened slightly at that, but it didn't last long. "But," Akira added as he turned away, "your footwork is still sloppy."
Kaito groaned immediately. "Seriously?"
"You telegraph your attacks," Akira continued, demonstrating with a small step forward. "Your shoulders tighten right before you strike."
Kaito blinked. "They do?"
"Yes. Anyone experienced would read you instantly."
Kaito scratched his head, suddenly unsure. "I didn't even notice."
"That's why you train," Akira said simply, as if that explained everything in the world.
After a brief pause, he began walking toward the path leading out of the training grounds. "That's enough for today."
Kaito sat up a little straighter. "Already?"
"You've pushed your pulse enough," Akira replied without turning back. "Rest is part of training too."
Kaito lifted his wooden sword slightly in protest. "Next time I'm definitely hitting you!"
Akira didn't even look back. "We'll see." He raised a hand in a lazy farewell and continued down the path, disappearing between the trees as the wind carried the last trace of him away.
For a moment, everything was quiet again. Just the wind moving through the grass, the faint sound of distant birds, and Kaito sitting alone in the middle of the field. He stared at the path where Akira had vanished, still processing everything, then suddenly let himself fall backward into the grass with a loud groan.
"I didn't land a single hit!" he complained, rolling onto his side and kicking his legs once in frustration. "How is he so fast?! That's not fair!" He grabbed a fistful of grass and tossed it upward, watching it fall uselessly back down. "I reinforced the sword… I kept the pulse going… and I still got destroyed!" He rolled once across the ground, then again, before finally stopping with a dramatic sigh, face half-buried in the grass. "Mmmmmgh…"
After a moment, he turned his head slightly, glaring up at the sky instead. "Next time I'm definitely hitting him."
The words were quieter this time, more determined than frustrated. He lay there for a while, letting the wind cool his skin, before soft footsteps approached from behind.
"Lord Kaito."
He sat up quickly.
Kaede stood beside him, holding a cloth. Her long white hair was neatly tied back, and her uniform looked far too clean compared to him. She knelt beside him without hesitation, already brushing dirt off his shoulders.
"You're covered in grass again," she said.
Kaito scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "It's called training."
Kaede sighed as she continued cleaning him. "Yes, yes. I'm sure rolling around in the field is a very advanced technique."
Kaito laughed a little. "You sound like Mom."
"That's because someone has to keep you presentable," she replied, straightening his collar afterward.
"You push yourself too hard sometimes, Lord Kaito."
He blinked. "Do I?"
Kaede smiled faintly but didn't answer directly. "You're only six."
He shrugged. "Akira says I need to train."
"And Lord Akira is right," she said calmly, "but even warriors need rest."
She placed her hands on her hips as if concluding an important matter. "Besides… you have visitors."
Kaito tilted his head. "Visitors?"
Kaede pointed toward the entrance path.
Two familiar figures were already running across the field.
"Kaito!"
"Hey!"
His face lit up instantly. "Mei! Kazu!"
They skidded to a stop beside him. Mei immediately crossed her arms and looked him over. "You look terrible."
Kaito blinked. "Wow. Thanks."
Kazu laughed. "You're covered in grass."
"Training," Kaito said proudly, sitting up straighter as if that explained everything.
Mei rolled her eyes. "Sure it is."
Kaede chuckled softly nearby. "I'll bring snacks."
Then she quietly headed back toward the house, leaving the three of them alone in the field.
A few moments later, they were sitting in a small circle on the grass with bowls of snacks between them. Kazu immediately grabbed a handful and leaned back with a groan. "School is exhausting."
Mei nodded dramatically. "Master Hoshin gave us assignments today. Three of them."
"Three?" Kaito repeated, surprised.
"Yes," Mei said, clearly offended by the universe. "Three."
"And combat drills," Kazu added. "I lost two matches."
"Only because you cheated," Mei shot back instantly.
"I did not!"
Kaito laughed quietly as he watched them argue. "You guys are ridiculous."
Kazu suddenly leaned forward with a grin. "Speaking of ridiculous… the Master Exam is next year."
Mei nodded proudly. "We're both taking it."
Kaito blinked. "Already?"
"You can take it at eight," Mei said matter-of-factly.
"We'll be eight next year," Kazu added.
Kaito groaned. "That's not fair."
Kazu laughed again. "You're too young."
"Yeah," Mei teased, nudging him slightly. "Come back in two years."
Kaito crossed his arms. "I'll pass it easily when I do take it."
"Sure you will," Kazu said.
"Maybe we'll be Elite Masters by then," Mei added with a grin.
Kaito grabbed a small piece of snack and flicked it at her. She dodged immediately.
"Hey!"
Laughter broke out between them again, light and easy, the earlier tension completely gone.
After a while, Mei's voice softened slightly. "Hey… have you heard from Ren?"
Kaito paused for a second, then shook his head. "No."
The atmosphere shifted just a little.
Kazu scratched his head. "That's weird."
"He's probably training somewhere crazy," Mei said, trying to sound casual.
Kaito looked down at the grass. "Yeah…"
Mei nudged his shoulder gently. "He'll come back."
Kazu nodded. "He always does."
Kaito gave a small smile. "I know."
Eventually, the sun began to dip lower, stretching long shadows across the field. Mei stood first. "We should head back."
Kazu stretched lazily. "Yeah… before my mom yells at me again."
They both turned toward Kaito. "See you later!"
"Train hard!"
Kaito lifted a hand in farewell. "See you."
They ran off together down the path, their voices fading into the distance.
Kaito remained sitting in the grass for a while longer, the wind brushing softly through the field as everything slowly grew quiet again.