Night was slowly falling over Nagasora, tinting the rooftops dark blue and the street lamps lit. From his bedroom window, Takeru Arashi watched the twinkling lights of the city.
The whispering wind rustled the leaves of the tree in front of his house. He was alone, sitting on the windowsill, his legs dangling and his gaze lost. In his hands he held a notebook. The same one he used to try to organize the ideas burning in his mind.
He had to decide: intervene and alter the inevitable, or stay the course and expect the worst?
It was not the first time he had been unveiled.
There were images, thoughts, sensations that he could not explain. Fragments of a future that would not yet occur, but which he remembered with eerie clarity. Destroyed cities, impossible creatures, pain, fire, screams... and a strange energy that hovered over the world like a shadow.
"Why do I know this?" he thought.
"Why do I see what hasn't happened yet?".
He didn't know who he was before he came to this family. But he did know one thing:
none of them were normal.
-If I stay out of it... maybe I'll live a normal life. Maybe everything will go on as it should... -he muttered to himself, though even he didn't believe it. But if I do nothing, am I not just as guilty? -Am I selfish? -he asked himself quietly, clenching his fists
he asked himself quietly, clenching his fists.
Sometimes he wondered if he had a mission. If perhaps he had come to this world for a purpose. Because if those memories were real... someone had to stop what was coming. And if he knew that, even if he was just a seven year old boy, then maybe....
The memory of Mei smiling as they cooked came to his mind like a blow to his chest. That little girl, so calm, so strong... she deserved more than to become a weapon of the Honkai.
A light knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
- Takeru? -The low but soft voice of his father, Daigo Arashi, called him warmly.
The boy quickly sat up and sat on the bed, feigning normalcy as his father opened the door and poked his head in, holding a steaming cup.
-Another long night, huh?
Takeru nodded without answering right away. He didn't want to lie... but he didn't know how to explain the truth either.
-I had a nightmare," he muttered at last, lowering his gaze. His usual excuse. He had used it too many times before... but his father had never pressed him.
Daigo came in quietly and sat down next to him, setting the cup on the table.
-You don't have to tell me everything if you don't want to," said, looking at him tenderly. But you know I'm here, don't you?
-Dad..." she whispered, barely audibly, "Do you think some people... are born with a special reason? As if they have something important to do... though I don't know what yet.
Daigo looked at him in surprise, but didn't laugh. Don't treat him like a child who fantasizes.
-Yes. I believe it. Sometimes, life puts certain people on difficult paths because they have a special light. Something that makes them different. They may not know what their purpose is yet, but the time will come when they will understand. And when it comes, they must have the courage to follow it.
Takeru felt a slight tremor in his hands. Was that what he was? A piece placed in this world for a purpose? He didn't have all the answers...
-Thank you, dad," he said at last, sincerely. It was all he could say.
Daigo stood up with a smile and ruffled her hair affectionately.
-I'm trying to get some sleep. Tomorrow you can sleep some more if you want. He already talked to Ryoma and said he needs rest too. That old fox has more dark circles under his eyes than you do," he joked, walking towards the door.
-Ryoma... Mei's father?
-Yes, the same. Always busy, but always asking about you. He's fond of you, even if he doesn't say it in words," he added before leaving and closing the door gently.
As he walked out, Daigo paused for a moment in the hallway, still with his hand on the doorknob.
His gaze was lost in the gloom and his expression became thoughtful.
"Takeru... He was always an honest, even somewhat carefree boy... but after meeting Mei, he changed faster than usual. Could that girl have inspired him? Or is there something else I can't quite see?"
I sigh softly.
"He's only seven...but sometimes I look at him and I feel like I'm talking to someone much older."
With a mixture of pride and concern, she slowly walked away down the hallway.
Inside the room, Takeru stood silently, staring at the cup on the table. His father was not judging him, nor was he forcing him to speak. He was just there.
And that was enough to relieve some of the weight he carried inside.
...
The next morning, the Arashi family's private dojo echoed with the sound of wood banging against wood.
-Again! commanded the firm voice of their instructor, a stocky, middle-aged man with a look as sharp as his katana. His name was Gendo Fushimi, a veteran of the traditional martial arts who rarely praised his students.
Takeru took a step forward, bending his knees and twisting his wrist with precision. His practice sword traced a swift arc through the air, clashing against his master's with unexpected force for a child.
Gendo frowned, backing up a step. Again, he thought. That boy had too refined a technique for his age. He had begun training at the age of five, at the suggestion of Daigo, who wanted to strengthen his discipline and body... but what at first seemed only childish enthusiasm eventually transformed into steadfast determination.
-Keep the center. Don't let your emotions interfere," Gendo growled, preparing for the next move.
-I'm trying," Takeru replied, barely panting. His tone was serene, but his gaze burned with a mixture of determination and inner conflict. Every thrust he made, every step he took on the tatami was also a way of releasing the pressure that was gnawing at his insides.
The master attacked. Takeru dodged it by mere inches, turning with the agility of someone who had repeated that technique hundreds of times. He counterattacked him with a speed that forced Gendo to block with both hands.
-Enough for today! -commanded the man, stepping back with a dry movement, "Enough is enough.
Takeru lowered the sword slowly. His breathing was steadying quickly. He hadn't sweated excessively, but his heart was pounding.
-Master Gendo... May I ask you a question?
The instructor looked at him sternly, but came closer.
-Do you believe... that one can change one's destiny? Even if it is already written.
Gendo watched him silently for a few seconds. It was not a question he expected from a child. But with Takeru, it didn't surprise him so much anymore.
-I don't know if destiny can be changed," he answered at last. But I do know that he who sharpens his will, can cut even the strongest chains. Why do you ask that?
-Just... curious," Takeru answered with a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes.
As Takeru trained under Gendo's watchful eye, he not only perfected his sword technique, but also learned to sense and channel an inner energy, an invisible but powerful flow that the masters called Qi.
Daigo, her adoptive father, had insisted that the training not only be physical, but also spiritual. At his request, the Arashi family taught him to control Qi, that ancient ancestral energy that strengthens the body, sharpens the mind and purifies the spirit. Thanks to this living tradition, Takeru learned to channel his inner energy and find balance between body and mind.
Gendo, though rough and demanding, recognized that Takeru had a special gift for perceiving this flow of energy. Therefore, beyond sword techniques, he spent time guiding him in exercises to cultivate Qi, teaching him to breathe deeply, to concentrate his mind and to move his body in harmony with this vital force.
Gendo watched as Takeru picked up his sword and continued his training. He shook his head with a mixture of frustration and admiration.
-I wish there were more students like you," he muttered to himself. My job would be so much easier.