Seasons passed like drifting ash.
Years, like slow and deep breaths.
The girl born beneath the blood moon grew in the shadow of a nameless man. A ronin whose hands knew only death. Yet now held life.
They lived in the mountains. Secluded from the outside world. The air was thin, rivers clear enough to see your reflection. Though the ronin never looked at his.
Their hut was built from timber and straw. Small in size. Moss clung to the walls for insulation. The firepit in the centre is nearly always lit.
The billowing smoke being the only signal either the ronin or the girl existed. Marking where two souls defied the rules set by the people of the world.
Keyuzu grew fast in the eyes of the ronin. Faster than he ever thought she could have.
Her body was frail, though her spirit burned like the red light on the day of her birth. She would follow the ronin through the forest as he hunted, gathered water or set traps. Always trying to mimic his movements. Stepping where he stepped, breathing when he breathed. Every fall into mud earning a grunt. Each stumble giving a quiet chuckle, sounding like the ghost of a laugh.
When Keyuzu was old enough to speak she was forbidden from saying the ronins name.
"A name ties you to the world."
He grunted
"I have no place down here. Thus I do not need a name."
She called him Sensei instead.
Training began when her hands were steady enough to hold a stick. When her arms were strong enough to swing it in the air. A mere two years old by now.
She treated the stick like a toy. Swinging wildly, pretending to strike invisible foes. The ronin corrected her with kindness and patience. Nothing more than a tap on the head or holding the stick in place until she listened.
"A blade is not a toy."
His voice was low.
"It's like a promise. Every swing must come with meaning and thought."
He trained her like a little soldier. Eventually upgrading her to a makeshift wooden katana.
Stances, swings, mediation, breathing. He spoke little, his actions carrying more words than he could ever express.
When she faltered he made her practice swinging for hours without breaks.
She wept. She cried. Though he simply turned away.
It was her seventh winter when Keyuzu first drew blood.
A pack of wolves rushed down from the peak of the mountain. Starved and desperate.
The ronin fought them with ease. Using no more than one strike for each. No force or movement that wasnt necessary.
A swing. A flash of steel. A spray of blood. Keyuzu was mesmerised.
But one slipped past. Lunging at Keyuzu.
Time slowed.
Instinct guided her hands to the wooden blade.
She pushed.
The stick snapped. Though the blow still drove the remains through the roof of the wolves mouth and through the brain.
She stood still in terror. The beast's blood poured from its head and mouth onto the snow.
She dropped the stick to the floor. Falling to her knees soon after. Shaking
Tears dropping onto the crimson snow.
"I-I-I didn't mean to…"
Her voice shook as much as her body.
The ronin swiped the blood off his sword and sheathed it in a single clean motion.
"You did."
He stepped closer. Kneeling before her.
"You chose to live."
From that day on her training changed.
The wooden blade was replaced with a steel one.
Her hands blistering anew.
He gave her many pieces of advice with her training
"Steel speaks three languages. None of which ever lie."
His voice by now had regained some of its essence. Now being used far more often.
"It speaks of death, of mercy and of blood.
Years passed again.
It was the 15th winter they had spent together on that mountain.
Keyuzu grew lean. Her movements are a mirror of the ronins. They now hunted together. Trained together. Prayed together.
The ronin's hair turned grey.
Age finally showed now that he had a reason to live. His spirit and heart steadied out.
He had found purpose in Keyuzu. Maybe a way to redeem his past.
One evening, under a pale moon. Keyuzu asked what the ronin saw when he looked at her.
He was quiet for a long time. A fire crackled between them as they looked out into the sky.
"I see a person"
He finally said.
"A person who never gave up."
His voice falters slightly.
"A person I swore to protect. To raise."
Keyuzu smiled at him.
He smiled back, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. Carrying more sorrow than joy.
"Though I don't know how well I did either of those. And I doubt I have much time left to improve"
The night wind carried the sound of distant drums. Faint but certain.
The heartbeat of a world on the brink. Of a world closer to its end.
"You protected me perfectly?"
Keyuzu asks, curious.
"For now I like to think I have. But the peace from the outside world has gone on too long."
His voice lowered.
"War is coming again. A war I won't be strong enough to protect you from."
In their small hut. Far above the rest of the world. Far away from civilization. The daughter of the ronin realised what her future had in store. The moment her Sensei had been training her for.
Keyuzu gripped her sword tighter. A sword she had yet to name.