Never Without You │ BOTW modern AU fanfic

Slumbering Power

Link's pov

Even though Zelda doesn't speak or understand much Japanese at all, she's been asking my uncle about the pottery in his living room and where it's from. She's trying to explain that she's really interested in archeology but I don't think he understands a single word in English.

When I translate bits and pieces for them, he tells us that the pottery stems from the Jōmon Period and I try my best not to sound bored as I translate it back to Zelda.

When her eyes land on the samurai sword that's displayed on a little pedestal in the living room, she points at it and tries to use her Japanese skills to ask a question.

"Are wa nan desu ka?" she asks in perfect grammar. What is that over there?

Finally an object that doesn't put me to sleep. My uncle picks it up for her without hesitation and lets us admire the golden pattern on the sheath.

Dad has joined the room and crosses his arms with a grin. "It belonged to our father," he says to me, looking at my uncle. "Your grandfather." His eyes switch to Zelda, and in English he tells her, "Link dance with sword when he was..." dad stops to think of the words. "Kodomo," he mumbles in Japanese, "Eto..." I watch him struggle until, "A child!" he remembers the word.

His English is getting better but I still feel the need to clear things up. "During middle school and highschool, I used to perform a set of sword skills called kata at local festivals to showcase the techniques and skills used by samurai warriors in combat."

Zelda's eyes light up and she begs me to show her some tricks. I doubt that I'm still as good as I used to be. After all, I haven't picked up a sword in many years. But when someone presents a sword and requests a show, I'm the last person to decline.

I take a few steps away from them to give myself enough space. Wouldn't want to accidentally decapitate someone.

I bow to my little audience of three, then I take a deep breath to concentrate and become one with the blade. I grip the hilt of the samurai sword tightly, feeling its weight and balance in my hand as I draw it from its sheath. With a swift motion, I roll the sword over my wrist, making it gleam in the sunlight as it swings around my hand, drawing a perfect circle. Zelda gasps, motivating me to unpack some tricks I practiced when I was seventeen.

Each movement is deliberate and calculated. The sound of the blade slicing through the air takes me back to my childhood. How I discovered fencing and fell in love with the perfection of swordsmanship.

I show them a series of fluid strikes and parries, mainly to impress Zelda. The sword becomes an extension of my body. I can feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart full of excitement. 

Having talked to Zelda and Ruto about my passion for sports, I do wonder if I ever hated fencing or if I just stopped because I didn't have the time anymore. Even though I was a champion, it was more for fun, and after everything that happened with my career, I notice the difference between doing something with passion or out of duty.

With a final swoosh, I sheath the sword with a metallic cling. Zelda looks speechless and claps for me. Dad's just smiling at me and Oji-san tells me that my technique is sloppy. I could argue with him and tell him I haven't practiced in years, but I keep quiet, bow to them, and put the sword back where it belongs.

"Where did you learn that?" Zelda asks me.

"Well, I was a fencing champion for some time," I shrug. "You actually need a different set of skills for fencing and the weight of the swords are way different from this one, but my point is, I like swords."