░『Zephyr』░(KNY OC STORY/ KNY OC X KNY-OLD/DISCONTINUED)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟹: 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

Sweat beads fall from her forehead, taking a breather as she steps back from Sanemi. The chill air stabs her lungs, despite the desperate need for breath. Day twelve. Her sixteenth attempt. Each time, the wooden staff would snap.

"Come on! You can try harder than that! You're slacking off!" Sanemi taunts, although Fukurō could tell she fatigued him as well. Maybe if she used Total Concentration Breathing... She could match up with Sanemi's skill. Or to get at least a bit stronger.

In concentration, Fukurō stays silent. She didn't want to get distracted, and forced to go through another week of retries and fails. Sanemi's sudden silence didn't help either, as he wouldn't even call his attacks, making the entire duel feel like a guessing game. Fukurō had to do defensive forms, which wouldn't help defeat Sanemi, but would keep her standing for a while longer.

Peeking at Sanemi from the flying dust, she recognizes the next form he performs; Eighth form— Primary Gale Slash. Dang it, out of all the forms, there's only one defensive form? 'Wind Breathing: Third Form— Clear Storm Wind Tree.' Slashing the area around her, Fukurō tries her best to deflect Sanemi's attack, but she could still feel a scrape on her back.

She needs to reach her full potential. It doesn't matter if she breaks a bone, because she just wants this to finish. Using her motor speed to her advantage, she leaps away to take time to plan out her actions.

Once she does, she takes a deep breath. 'Wind Breathing: Seventh Form— Gale, Sudden Gusts!' Closing her distance, half of her plan was working thoroughly. Getting closer, she twists her torso as she changes forms. 'Wind Breathing: Sixth Form— Black Wind Mountain Mist.'

Fukurō drills the end of the staff into Sanemi's shoulder, trying to push him to the ground to gain her well-needed victory. If she could just do one more Breathing Form, she could win. 'Wind Breathing: First Form— Dust Whirlwind Cutt-'

She begins to stumble, sensing that Sanemi was regaining his awareness. But that won't stop her, and instead strives her to finish the job. 'Wind Breathing: First Form— Dust Whirlwind Cutter.'

WHAM!

Sanemi looks up at Fukurō's staff, disregarding the pain in the top of his head. "You did it."Fukurō stays in a defensive stance, looking back at Sanemi as if he was insane. "Wait— What? No I didn't. You're still standing. One hit doesn't mean defeat."

"You didn't break the staff. All those other days, you broke it in half." Sanemi explains, puzzling Fukurō even more when he sheathes his weapon. "But today, you didn't. And you lasted for twice as long than before."

"... So what does that mean?" Fukurō's mind hasn't exactly settled down yet, so she hadn't picked up on what Sanemi was implying. 

"You're going to Final Selection, Kazekachi."

* * *

She couldn't believe her own ears. Was this some sort of dream? Was this even possible?

So, Sanemi knew about the possibilities of a Tsuguko defeating a skilled Hashira. He knew this, and wasn't even thinking about testing Fukurō for it in the first place. All that mattered was whether she broke the staff or not. That's all.

Fukurō lets out a huff of amusement, a small smile on her face. Well, she wouldn't expect less from Sanemi, who Fukurō knew as an awkwardly confusing person. If it means she could finally go to Final Selection, she didn't mind. She couldn't help but wonder; if she was taken in by a different trainer, would training take longer? How much longer would it take to be ready for Final Selection?

Speaking of Final Selection, she didn't exactly need to attend the test early anyways, since the majority of the time she would have arrived early was spent breaking wooden staffs.

'What a weird guy.'

Fukurō looks around the room, contemplating what she should bring for the journey, if she needed to bring anything at all. That's when her eyes lay upon a sword in a sheathe. It wasn't hers, but it didn't look like Sanemi's either. Out of curiousity, Fukurō unsheathes the mysterious blade. Why was it here? Whose was it?

It was the same green as Sanemi's Nichirin sword, but the handle and hand guard was different. Deciding to ask Sanemi about it, she leaves the room stranded. "Shinazugawa-san?" Fukurō peeks her head outside the front door, but looks down when she feels something under her foot.

'... Acorns?' She picks them up, stuffing them in her pocket. They were so conveniently placed, as if they were a gift. There was no way a squirrel or chipmunk dropped it on accident. Maybe she could use them as good luck charms?

"What?" Fukurō shoots her head back up at the sound of Sanemi's voice. Right— She was looking for him, wasn't he? "Oh— Do you know whose this is? It was in my room- Is it yours?" She asks, looking over the vine-coloured sword. 

"It's yours. I had my swordsmith craft it for you for Final Selection. You won't slay demons with a normal blade like that one you had before. Those two weapons are made from different ores, and the Nichirin sword is the only one able to decapitate demons." Sanemi explains, tapping on the metal of the blade. "Do not break this. If you do, you're better off dead." 

".. Alright then. Arigatō." Fukurō smiles at his consideration, now understanding why the sword was placed in her room. It was so dazzling, to see a real Nichirin sword in her own hands. Well, Temporarily. Then she'd get a Nichirin sword of her own, some time after Final Selection.

'Mount Fujikasane...' Fukurō scrolls through her memories, although her mind already automatically remembered where it was located. She had passed by the mountain on her way to  Sanemi's mansion, and now she would know that is where Final Selection takes place. All she has to do is look for the bright lilac wisteria trees, and that is where she must go. Good thing that wisteria is a contrasting color to the natural green leaves of other trees.

"... I think I should get going, Shinazugawa-san. I want to get a head start, just in case I lose my way." She suggests, holding the sword in the sheathe. It looks like she might need to carry the weapon the entire way, then.

"Hm." Sanemi crosses his arms, looking at Fukurō's face. Did she look anxious or excited? It was hard to tell. "You ate already, right? The walk isn't that long, but it isn't short either." Fukurō nods, sighing, "I know, I know. I'll be fine, Shinazugawa-san. Besides, not eating won't phase me. I've went through your training without a meal, so I'll survive." 

"I have the sword, and that's all I need."  Fukurō concludes, looking back to see if she had left something behind. She takes a step outside the door, legs leading her towards the gate. Sanemi looks with uncertainty, surprised by her eagerness. "You come back here as soon as you get out of there, alright? No hanging out with whatever friends you make, alright?" 

"Hai, Shinazugawa-san. I'll make sure not to make you worry." Fukurō promises, turning her back on Sanemi. She couldn't help the rush of emotion shining through her face. "Matane*! Make sure to give Sorai extra seeds for those letters I send!" She concluded, giving him a wave.

Hopefully, that wouldn't be the last time Sanemi would hear that phrase from her, let alone her voice. 

But he knew he trained her well, even though his methods were odd. 'She's a strong girl, Sanemi. She'll survive.' He tells himself, a proud smile on his face. 'I'll definitely never accept a tsuguko again. Too nerve-racking.' 

Through the amusement, Sanemi couldn't help but worry. Maybe it would be the final time he would see her. Maybe she'd forget what he taught her.

Or maybe she wouldn't.

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*Matane: "See you soon/again"