Location: Third Communal House, Sleeping Quarters
Time: 05:00 AM
A hand grabbed Hanzo's shoulder and shook him.
RUSTLE.
"...Hanzo, get up," a voice whispered.
Hanzo slowly opened his eyes in the dark room.
He recognized eleven years old Sota standing over his mat.
Hanzo tried to push himself up.
His body did not move at all.
An intense, agonizing pain ripped through his entire back and arms.
Every single muscle fiber screamed in protest.
He had completely destroyed his physical limits in the woods last night.
His biological clock had failed to wake him up for the first time in two years.
Sota rubbed his own tired eyes and yawned.
"...Matron Ota is already in the kitchen," Sota warned quietly. "...We have to eat before the laundry carts arrive."
Hanzo gritted his teeth.
He couldn't even lift his right arm to pull his blanket off.
"...I am getting up, Sota-san," Hanzo whispered through the pain.
Sota nodded and walked away to grab his sandals.
Hanzo laid flat on his back in the dark.
He reached deep into his gut.
His active cursed energy had refilled entirely while he slept.
Since he was only allowed to use twenty-five percent, the small pool recovered extremely fast.
Hanzo pushed that energy outward into his limbs.
He wrapped it tightly around his dead muscles and aching joints and used his own cursed energy like an exoskeleton.
'Damn...' Hanzo forced his body to sit up.
The physical pain was absolutely blinding.
He kept his face perfectly blank.
He slowly stood up on his shaking legs and walked toward the sliding paper door.
--<>--
Location: Communal Dining Room
Time: 05:15 AM
The ten servants sat in a circle on the wooden floorboards.
Everyone held a small wooden bowl.
CLINK.
Taro tapped his chopsticks against the side of his bowl.
"...This rice is completely freezing today," Taro complained.
Haru took a loud slurp from his cup.
SLURP.
"...The miso soup is mostly water again," Haru muttered. "...I can barely taste the paste."
Sadako chewed on a sour pickled plum.
"...Just eat it and stop whining," Sadako sighed. "...The main guards brought down four carts of clothes today."
Hanzo sat quietly between Sota and Heikichi.
He used cursed energy reinforcement on his entire body and lift his wooden chopsticks.
He pushed a clump of cold, sticky rice into his mouth.
Nom. Nom.
'I would kill for some hot Aloo Paratha right now.'
[A/n: Aloo Paratha a popular North Indian flatbread stuffed with a spiced mashed potato filling.]
The cold Japanese breakfast did absolutely nothing to help his aching muscles.
He missed the heavy, stuffed flatbread from his past life in India.
He stared down at his watery soup.
'Even just a boiling cup of masala chai would warm my bones.'
[A/n Masala Chai is a warm, spiced milk tea made by simmering black tea leaves.]
Hanzk swallowed the cold rice.
--<>--
The servants walked out into the freezing morning fog.
Kenji walked toward the back of the yard to grab a wooden bucket.
He suddenly stopped in the wet grass.
"...Hey," Kenji called out loudly. "...Look at this."
Taro and Haru walked over to the edge of the dark woods.
Matron Ota stepped out onto the wooden porch holding her pipe.
Hanzo forced his stiff legs to follow the group.
He stopped behind Taro and looked at the thick oak tree.
The center of the bark was completely splintered.
Deep, jagged cracks ran up the solid wood.
"...Did a curse get past the walls last night?" Sadako asked nervously.
She hugged her arms tightly across her chest.
Tokichi shook his head and pointed at the damage.
"...A curse would have ripped the tree completely out of the dirt," Tokichi argued. "...This looks like something just battered it."
Matron Ota walked down the wooden steps.
She took a slow drag from her pipe.
PUFF.
"...There are no curse residuals in the air," Ota stated flatly.
She turned her head and looked straight at the tree.
'Forgot about this... I was too absorbed making my binding vows.' Hanzo swallowed hard.
Hanzo stepped forward through the wet grass.
"Umm.."
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his sandals.
"...It wasn't a curse, everyone," Hanzo said sheepishly.
The entire group of servants turned to look at him.
Hanzo forced a bright red blush onto his cheeks.
"...I woke up in the middle of the night to take a pee," Hanzo admitted quietly.
Haru blinked in surprise.
"...You went out to the tree line in the dark?" Haru asked.
Hanzo nodded and looked extremely embarrassed.
"...A massive bird-like flew out of the branches right over my head," Hanzo lied smoothly. "...It scared me really badly."
He raised his hands slowly.
His knuckles were raw, swollen, and covered in dried blood.
"...I panicked and accidentally flared my cursed energy," Hanzo continued. "...I just closed my eyes and swung my arms around."
Taro stared at Hanzo for a second.
Then Taro burst out laughing.
"...You got jump-scared by a bird while taking a leak?" Taro laughed loudly.
Sadako let out a massive sigh of relief.
"...You almost gave me a heart attack, Hanzo," Sadako scolded lightly. "...I thought a cursed spirit was hiding in the bushes."
Kenji chuckled and patted Hanzo on the back.
Matron Ota didn't laugh.
She looked closely at the deep, shattered cracks in the thick oak bark.
She looked down at Hanzo's hands.
A simple, panicked flail from a six-year-old wouldn't cause structural damage like that.
She knew Hanzo was lying.
She suspected the boy was secretly out here venting his rage over his father's recent death.
Ota looked at Hanzo's nervous face.
She gave him a very small, knowing look of sympathy.
"...It is just a tree," Ota grunted loudly.
She waved her wooden pipe toward the basins.
"...The mystery is solved," Ota barked. "...Get to work before the main house guards come looking for their pants."
The servants quickly scattered back to the muddy yard.
Hanzo walked toward his own wooden basin.
His cover story worked perfectly, and Matron Ota protected even misunderstood.
--<>--
Hanzo plunged his bruised hands into the freezing water. It's already a few hours later.
SPLASH.
The cold liquid stung his torn knuckles instantly.
He grabbed a heavy winter cloak and pulled it onto the wooden washboard.
He was still actively using his cursed energy reinforcement just to move his arms.
SCRAPE. SCRAPE.
He rubbed the harsh lye soap against the thick wool.
His muscles screamed in agony with every single motion.
Hanzk looked up at the massive wooden cart piled high with dirty clothes.
'Tsk..' He cursed himself in his head.
He had to do the full five hours of manual labor today.
'I am gathering the materials after the afternoon training.'
He could not survive another morning of this manual torture.
He scrubbed the cloak harder and focused on breathing through the pain.
--<>--
Time: Three Days Later
The sun barely peeked over the stone walls of the compound.
Hanzo dragged a heavy wooden contraption through the mud.
SCRAPE.
He parked it right next to his wooden washing basin.
It was a crude, hastily built foot-pedal wringer.
He had carved two thick wooden rolling pins from the scrap wood.
He connected them to a heavy bamboo foot-pedal using tightly woven hemp rope.
Sadako stopped scrubbing her clothes.
She stared at the strange wooden frame.
"...What in the world is that, Hanzo?" Sadako asked.
Tokichi walked over holding a wet uniform.
Hanzo gave them a cheerful smile.
"...It is a toy I built," Hanzo lied easily. "...But I think it can help us."
Hanzo grabbed a soaking-wet winter cloak from his basin.
He fed the edge of the heavy wool between the two wooden rolling pins.
He stepped back and placed his foot on the bamboo pedal.
"...Watch this, Sadako-san," Hanzo said.
He pushed his weight down on the pedal.
CREAAK.
The rope pulled tight.
The two wooden pins squeezed violently together and rolled backward.
The heavy cloak was dragged straight through the tight gap.
SQUELCH.
A massive stream of dirty water poured out of the wool and splashed into the mud below.
The entire cloak was wrung completely dry in exactly three seconds.
Tokichi dropped the wet uniform he was holding.
THUD.
"...You just did that with your foot," Tokichi muttered in absolute shock.
Sadako rushed over to the wooden frame.
She grabbed the dry cloak and felt the fabric.
"...My hands wouldn't hurt anymore," Sadako whispered.
Matron Ota walked out onto the wooden porch.
She held her pipe and stared at the contraption.
Hanzo stepped off the pedal and bowed to her.
"...I built it to help finish my work faster, Ota-san," Hanzo explained politely.
Ota walked down the wooden steps.
She inspected the rope and the wooden pins.
"...You made this from the scrap pile behind the shed," Ota noted.
Hanzo nodded quickly.
"...Yes, Ota-san," Hanzo confirmed.
Ota took a slow drag from her pipe.
PUFF.
"...You have a lot of good ideas and a very useful tool, kid." Ota said. "I won't ask where you get this ideas from. But keep it up, if it can help us work faster... Then it's better."
She pointed her pipe at Tokichi.
"...Go find more scrap wood," Ota ordered. "...I want one of these built for every single basin by tomorrow."
Tokichi grinned widely.
"...Yes, Matron!" Tokichi shouted happily.
Hanzo smiled and went back to his basin.
--<>--
Location: Third Communal House, Sleeping Quarters
Time: 05:00 AM | Fourteen Days Later
Hanzo opened his eyes.
The room was still pitch-black.
Sota was completely fast asleep on the mat next to him.
Hanzo sat up slowly.
He didn't need to pull his cursed energy out to move his limbs.
His biological clock had woken him up naturally.
He looked down at his own hands in the dark.
His body was adapting at a terrifying speed.
The binding vow was doing exactly what it was designed it to do.
Every single night, he tore his muscles apart and break his limits.
It was forcefully forging his physical density.
His muscles felt heavier.
His bones felt completely solid.
He was still a six-year-old boy, but his physical base stats were quietly becoming monstrous compared to his peers.
He stood up from his straw mat.
He stretched his arms above his head.
POP. POP.
He felt a deep, satisfying ache in his back, but it was no longer paralyzing.
He walked quietly toward the sliding door to start his morning washing quota.
--<>--
Time: 11:30 PM | Two Months Later
Hanzo stood barefoot in the muddy dirt.
He was completely drenched in sweat.
He was not hitting a tree or a training post.
He threw a straight punch directly into the empty night air.
SWISH.
He stopped his fist at full extension.
The sheer physical force required to brake his own maximum-power strike tore at his joints.
"...Five hundred and nine," Hanzo whispered.
He pulled his arm back instantly.
He used zero wasted motion.
Hanzo channeled his active twenty-five percent energy into his right shin.
And pivoted perfectly on his left heel.
He then threw a devastating roundhouse kick into the empty space.
WHOOSH.
He snapped his leg back to the mud.
"...Five hundred and twenty-eight," Hanzo grunted.
His body had adapted over the last few weeks.
The vow simply forced him to keep breaking the new limit.
He fueled the flawless repetition with pure spite.
HUFF-PUFF.
HUFF-PUFF.
His lungs burned for oxygen.
The tendons in his arms and legs screamed in absolute agony from constantly decelerating his own strikes.
A heavy, terrifying pressure clamped down on his chest.
It felt like a physical hand gripping his soul.
'Not yet...'
The universe was checking his physical state.
It knew he had a tiny fraction of stamina left.
If he dropped his arms right now, his cursed energy would permanently vanish tomorrow.
Hanzo gritted his teeth.
He forced his shaking hands up to guard his face.
"...Five hundred and ten," Hanzo yelled quietly.
He threw a flawless left jab into the air.
SNAP.
He followed it instantly with a right high kick.
SWISH.
"...Five hundred and twenty-nine."
The recoil shot straight into his bones.
His muscles completely locked up.
He needed one more to reach true, absolute failure.
"...Five hundred and eleven," Hanzo gasped.
He pulled every single drop of his active energy into his right fist.
He stepped forward into the mud.
He threw his entire remaining body weight into a final straight punch through the empty air.
The kinetic force completely drained his torn muscles.
He lost his balance.
His legs gave out completely.
THUD.
Hanzo collapsed face-first into the muddy dirt.
He couldn't move his fingers.
He had hit the exact threshold.
The heavy, threatening pressure on his soul instantly vanished.
The universe accepted the payment.
Hanzo laid in the mud and gasped for air.
HUFF-PUFF.
He used his chin and his elbows to drag his broken body across the dirt.
SCRAPE. SCRAPE.
He crawled toward his assigned wooden washing basin.
The water inside the basin had been sitting in the freezing autumn air all night.
Hanzo reached up with shaking hands.
He grabbed a small wooden bucket resting on the rim.
He scooped the freezing water.
He dumped it directly over his head.
SPLASH.
The freezing shock hit his nervous system instantly.
It forced his muscles to violently contract.
It pushed the paralyzing fatigue back just enough to keep him conscious.
Hanzo dropped the empty bucket into the mud.
CLATTER.
He leaned the back of his head against the wet wood of the basin.
He stared up at the dark night sky.
--<>--
Location: Advanced Branch Courtyard
Time: 01:00 PM
Over forty children stood paired up across the dry dirt.
THWACK. CLACK.
The loud sound of wooden weapons hitting flesh and bone echoed across the courtyard.
Instructor Juzo walked slowly through the sparring lines.
He tapped his bamboo cane against his leg.
TAP.
"...Keep your guards up!" Juzo yelled. "...Pain is the only teacher you will remember in a real fight."
Daiki took a heavy hit to the shoulder from an older boy.
THUD.
Daiki winced and stumbled backward in the dust.
He didn't dare complain out loud.
The Kamo clan prepared them for actual combat, not games.
Hanzo stood quietly in the third row.
He gripped two wooden Kama in his small hands.
They were traditional farming sickles adapted for close combat.
Juzo made the new batch choose their specialized weapons a month ago.
Older veterans like Kenta already knew how to use long spears and heavy swords.
Hanzo specifically asked for the dual sickles.
Juzo had handed him a dusty, old clan scroll detailing the traditional footwork.
Hanzo spent the last weeks memorizing the kanji and practicing the dual wielding style apart from his training.
He felt he needed a fast weapon. Rather than a traditional sword.
TWEET.
Juzo blew his wooden whistle.
"...Rotate partners," Juzo ordered. "...Full contact."
The children quickly scrambled to find new opponents.
Kenta walked directly over to Hanzo.
The nine-year-old pointed his heavy wooden sword at Hanzo's chest.
"...Let's see how you handle those sickles today, Hanzo," Kenta said seriously.
Hanzo gripped the short wooden handles.
He looked up at Kenta.
He quickly calculated his own physical strength.
After months of extreme limit-breaking every single night, his muscle density was completely different.
'If I kick him at full strength, I'll probably break his ribs and kill him.'
Hanzo actively forced his leg muscles to relax.
He pulled his cursed energy into his hands.
Hanzo purposefully capped his output at a fifteen percent.
He had to completely hide his monstrous base stats from others.
"...I am ready, Kenta-senpai," Hanzo replied quietly.
Juzo walked past them and blew the whistle again.
TWEET.
Kenta rushed forward instantly.
He raised his heavy wooden sword high above his head.
He swung it down with brutal force.
SWISH.
Hanzo easily tracked the slow movement of the wooden blade.
He forced himself to react a split-second late.
He purposefully let his left foot slip in the dirt.
The wooden sword slammed hard into his left side.
THWACK.
"Ugh!" Hanzo grunted out loud.
Because he had zero cursed energy protecting his skin, the wood struck his bare flesh.
It hurts a little but he need to do his part.
A bruise formed instantly under his gray shirt.
Kenta grinned and pulled his sword back for a horizontal sweep.
"...You are too slow, Hanzo," Kenta warned.
Kenta swung the sword hard at Hanzo's waist.
Hanzo stepped directly inside Kenta's reach.
He brought his left sickle down fast.
He violently hooked the curved wooden blade directly over Kenta's sword.
CLACK.
Hanzo twisted his left wrist and pinned the heavy weapon down against the dirt.
"Whaa?" Kenta's eyes went wide.
He tried to yank his sword back.
The sickle held it perfectly in place.
Hanzo brought his right sickle up in a quick flash of motion.
He stopped the curved wooden tip exactly one inch away from Kenta's throat.
"..."
Kenta froze completely in the dust.
A drop of sweat rolled down the older boy's cheek.
Hanzo gave him a polite, innocent smile.
"...You left your neck open, Kenta-senpai," Hanzo said softly.
The surrounding children stopped sparring.
They turned their heads and stared at the six-year-old holding a blade to the veteran's throat.
Ren dropped his own practice sword in shock.
CLATTER.
Juzo watched from the side of the yard.
The scarred instructor slowly lowered his pipe.
He gave Hanzo a single, firm nod of approval.
Kenta let out a short, surprised laugh.
He dropped his shoulders and took a step back.
"...You got me," Kenta admitted.
He rubbed the back of his neck and gave Hanzo a bruised, respectful grin.
"...Those sickles are really annoying to fight against," Kenta added.
Hanzo lowered his wooden Kama.
"...Thank you for the lesson. I just got lucky." Hanzo replied.
He bowed respectfully to the older boy.
--<>--
A/n: Late chapter still delivered
--<>--
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