Haru’s blade swung, forcing me to reply, to block, to attack in return. I tried to pull back, but the power surged. My palm connected with his chest, and he flew backward like a child’s toy.
The power raged within me. I felt it snaking beneath my skin, like living arteries carving paths of their own.
“Yoshi, breathe,” Esumi said as he extended a hand toward Haru to help him stand. “This will take practice.” Then he moved around to stand behind me. “I’ll call the count,” Esumi said. “Moveonlyon my count. One movement per count. Ready?”
I nodded, raising mybokken.
“One,” Esumi called.
I tried to move slowly, but the moment I began, that strange fire filled my muscles. My arm blurred forward, thebokkenwhistling through air faster than thought.
I stumbled, overcorrected, and nearly fell.
“Again,” Haru said patiently. “This time, breathe out as you move, one long, steady breath.”
“You can do this,” Kaneko called from where he and a few other students had assembled to watch. “Remember what we practiced—finding your center.”
“One,” Esumi called again.
I breathed out and tried to move.
Too fast. Always too fast.
We continued like that as the sun climbed higher. Other students came to train in adjacent rings, but Master Ito barked at them to stay well clear of ours. I was vaguely aware of others watching and whispering, but Haru and Esumi never wavered in their focus.
“Better,” the Prince said after my twentieth attempt. “Did you feel that? You held it for half a heartbeat longer.”
Had I?
Everything jumbled together—the attempts, the corrections, the patient voices guiding me through each failure. Kaneko occasionally offered encouragement, his presence an anchor when I felt like I might fly apart.
“Once more,” Esumi said. “But this time, I want you to imagine you’re moving through honey. Think of the air as thick and resistant.”
I closed my eyes, pictured myself submerged in honey. When Esumi called the count, I moved, and for one blessed moment, my arm traveled at something approaching normal speed, at least it felt normal. Then the power surged, and I found myself spinning across the ring again.
“Progress,” Haru said, helping me up. “Real progress.”
The noon bell rang. Master Ito dismissed the other students for the midday meal. They filed away reluctantly, clearly wanting to continue watching the Prince train the strange boy who moved like lightning and fell like rain.
Master Ito stepped forward. “Prince Haru-sama, the meal—”
“We will continue a bit longer,” Haru said, not looking away from me. “If you do not mind, Master Ito.”
The master’s face went through several expressions—none pleasant—before settling on resignation. “As Prince Haru-samawishes.” He bowed deeply and departed, leaving the four of us alone in the training yard.
My stomach growled, but I didn’t care.
For the first time since this curse—or gift, or whatever it was—had manifested, someone was actually trying to help me control it rather than suppress it.
“Now,” Prince Haru said, “let’s try something different. Instead of slowing down, let’s work with your speed. Esumi, standing patterns?”
They positioned themselves on either side of me,bokkenraised. For the next hour, they called out targets—high, low,center, behind—and I tried to hit them in sequence. At first, I was a disaster, spinning wildly between them, but gradually, something began to click. It wasn’t control exactly, more like a growing awareness. I began to feel where my body was in space, even when moving at impossible speeds.
“Yes!” Esumi exclaimed when I managed to complete an entire sequence without falling. “Just like that!”
“You’re doing it, Yosh!” Kaneko stepped closer to the ring. “You’re actually doing it!”
We continued until the sun passed her peak. I was drenched in sweat, and my arms trembled from exhaustion—but for the first time in weeks, I felt hope.
