影と風 | Kage to Kaze | Shinazugawa Sanemi

7 - Breath Style

The moment I woke up, I quickly checked to see if Sanemi had taken the ohagi I'd left by the door after buying it from the market. A smile spread across my face when I saw that it was gone. I'd had a hunch that he had a sweet tooth.

"Why are you just standing there? I've been waiting on you for over an hour," Sanemi's voice came from behind me. I turned around to find him standing rigidly, clearly masking the injuries he'd sustained on his mission, even though he wasn't covered in blood this time.

"We don't have to start practice today. I can see you're still recovering," I said seriously. The corners of his mouth tugged down into a frown.

"We start now. I'll recover," he dismissed, already heading towards his dojo.

I quickly found my crow, Sen, and sent them off to the Butterfly Mansion with a message.

"You coming or what?" I heard Sanemi bark.

"On my way."

Even in his fatigued state, he was a force of nature. I knew he wouldn't hold back, but the man was relentless, going round after round without a hint of slowing down. I could barely keep up.

"You're not using your environment. Be smarter," he scolded, sweeping my feet out from under me with his bamboo sword, sending me flat on my back. My training clothes were drenched in sweat.

"I—" I started to retort, but bit my tongue before mouthing off. Brushing off the soreness, I got back into my stance. The moment I was on my feet, Sanemi pounced, raining down hits that I barely managed to dodge. After what felt like an eternity, we took a break.

"You've still got a long way to go," Sanemi grumbled, sipping his tea.

"I don't even have my own breathing style yet. I'm just making do with what I can."

"Are you stupid?" Sanemi asked, dead serious. I nearly sputtered my drink at his bluntness.

"Excuse me, old man?"

Sanemi ignored my jab. "You've been practicing your own breathing style for weeks. I knew you weren't the sharpest, but I didn't think you were an idiot."

What on earth was he talking about? My own breathing style?

Sanemi watched as the realization dawned on me. "You use the shadows," he said slowly as if I was a child. 

Suddenly, everything clicked. Sanemi was right. I'd been developing my own style all along, blending into the shadows naturally. It had never occurred to me because it felt so instinctive, but now I could see what Sanemi had been guiding me towards. All those hours he'd spent honing my ability to conceal myself, the way he'd subtly adjusted his own training to focus on defensive moves that would benefit me—it all made sense. Sanemi was actually a great teacher.

Sanemi rolled his eyes when my eyes lit up. "Sanemi you son of a-"

"We're here!" My younger sisters' voices echoed from the hallway, interrupting my compliment. Sanemi looked visibly irritated as the two girls barged in, followed by a flustered staff member who was trying to apologize for letting them in.

"Haru! Yuka! I'm so glad you're here." I hugged them tightly. "Please take a look at Shinazugawa's injuries."

"I will no—" Sanemi began, but was cut off as the girls practically dragged him off to his recovery room. They started tending to his wounds with the equipment they'd brought, and though he initially looked like he might explode in anger, he quickly simmered down. The girls were barely older than his younger brother, and it was clear he didn't want to scare them.

I leaned against the doorframe, smiling as I watched them work efficiently. They'd improved so much. Sanemi noticed my smile but didn't comment, glancing down at his hands instead. After they wrapped him in bandages, the girls left, and I sent them off with some food for the road.