Demon Back

It had been a week. Seven days of constant strain, and it felt like I was in hell. Every day blended into the next, an endless cycle of training, surviving, and fighting off the creeping sense of exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm me. The forest was unforgiving, and so was my father. Each new morning brought a harsher routine, pushing me further, and it was starting to take its toll.

I'd been somewhat lucky. I had caught a few fish in the river, enough to keep me from starving outright. One of my traps had even snared a rabbit—a small victory, but a significant one. The protein from the meat had given me a temporary boost, something my body was desperate for. And with the abundance of fruits and vegetables around, I managed to gather just enough to keep myself going. But it wasn't enough. Not really.

The hunger never truly left, a dull ache that gnawed at me from the inside, reminding me that every meal was uncertain. Every catch, every piece of food I found, could be the last for days. I had upgraded my traps, making them sturdier and more reliable, but they didn't always work. The shelter I had built had improved too, now more resistant to the wind and rain, providing some comfort against the elements. But despite these small gains, I was still struggling.

The training… That was a different kind of struggle. Yuujiro had cranked up the intensity, and each session left me battered, bruised, and barely able to stand. He didn't care that I wasn't getting enough sleep. He didn't care that I was barely eating enough to keep up with the physical demands he placed on me. Every punch, every kick, every hit was a reminder of how much further I had to go. And even though I was pushing myself to keep up, my body was getting sluggish.

It was the sleep deprivation. I could feel it. The nights were cold, the shelter was decent but not enough to keep the chill at bay, and I wasn't getting enough rest. My body had begun to ache in a way that went beyond soreness—this was something deeper, something more dangerous. My reflexes were slower, my mind less sharp. Each morning, I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all, and the cycle would start again.

The worst part was that I knew what was coming. Winter. It was still September, but the chill in the air was a constant reminder that the colder months were fast approaching. And if things were this bad now, I couldn't imagine how I would survive when the real cold set in. The nights would be longer, harsher. The food would be scarcer. If I didn't prepare, if I didn't figure out a way to make this work, I wouldn't make it through winter.

Winter could kill me.

I couldn't stop thinking about it, even as I struggled through each day. I had learned a lot in the past week—how to make better traps, how to find food, how to build a stronger shelter—but I still wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for the cold that was coming, or the scarcity of food that would follow. I wasn't ready for the kind of training that Yuujiro had planned for me in the dead of winter.

I had to find a way to prepare. I couldn't afford to be complacent, even for a moment. The wilderness didn't care if I was tired, or hungry, or injured. It didn't matter that I was doing my best. It would swallow me whole if I let my guard down.

As I sat by the fire that night, staring into the flames, I couldn't help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on me. I was still fine, for now. But I knew that wouldn't last. I had seen what winter could do, even in my previous life. I had camped in colder places before, but back then, I had been prepared. I had gear. I had backup. Here, all I had was my wits and the skills I'd picked up from Motobe and others.

I looked at the fire, knowing that I needed to find more fuel to keep it going through the night. The cold was creeping in again, and I hadn't gathered enough wood. I had been too focused on surviving the day to think about the night. That was the problem—I was always behind, always trying to catch up to the next need, the next task.

Survival wasn't about comfort, but I needed more than this. I needed a plan. I couldn't just react to every challenge as it came—I had to be proactive. If I was going to survive the winter, I needed more food. More warmth. A better shelter. And I needed to do it all while keeping up with Yujiro's training. The thought alone was enough to make me want to collapse, but collapsing wasn't an option.

The week had been long, and every night I had fought for sleep that didn't come. Every day, I fought through training that left me on the brink of collapse. But I have survived so far. I had to hold on to that. The wilderness was wearing me down, but I wasn't done yet.

I wasn't going to die out here. No matter what it took, I would keep going. I would adapt. I had to.

The fire crackled softly as I added more wood, the flames rising and sending flickering shadows across the trees. The cold wind brushed against my skin, but I ignored it. I had more to worry about than the night air. I will keep pushing forward. I would check the traps again. I'd keep hunting. I'd keep training. I would keep improving, one step at a time.

Winter was coming. But so was I.

One Month Later

A month had passed, and the world around me had shifted. The nights were colder, the days shorter, and every breath felt heavier in the crisp, biting air. Winter was on its way, but that wasn't what had changed the most. It was me.

The training that had once been relentless, crushing me under the weight of Yuujiro's demands, had begun to feel… different. It was getting easier. Not because Yuujiro was going easy on me—he was as brutal as ever, his strikes unforgiving, his methods merciless. But something inside me had changed.

It had started slowly, a sensation I couldn't quite place at first. I was growing stronger. Each punch, each kick, each grueling session left me feeling more resilient, more in control. My body, which had been worn down to the point of collapse from lack of sleep, hunger, and exhaustion, now seemed to be fighting back. My muscles felt denser, my reflexes sharper. I had learned to ignore the pain, to push through it until it became background noise.

Then it happened. The moment that changed everything.

We were sparring—if you could call it that—another brutal session with Yyujiro. I was struggling, as usual, trying to keep up with his monstrous strength and speed. But that day, I was worse off than usual. The lack of food and proper rest was starting to take a serious toll. I hadn't caught much in the traps recently, and while I had stockpiled what little food I could, it wasn't enough to sustain me.

I had barely slept in days. The exhaustion was more than just physical; it was mental, emotional. The isolation was gnawing at me. With no one to talk to, no human connection, the silence had become oppressive. I felt like I was losing my mind. And I wasn't just hungry—I was starving. The few fish I had caught or the occasional rabbit weren't enough to keep me going, not with the level of training I was being put through. Winter hadn't even arrived yet, and already I was struggling to survive.

In the middle of our session, as Yuujiro's fists came at me with the speed and force of a wild animal, something inside me snapped. Or maybe it awakened. It was hard to tell the difference at that moment. My body, pushed to the very edge of survival, was on the verge of shutting down. I was dying. My vision blurred, my legs felt like lead, and my chest tightened with every breath. The overwhelming fatigue, the hunger, the isolation—it all hit me at once.

But then, in that instant, something shifted. A surge of power exploded from deep within me, something I hadn't even known was there. My back arched, and I felt my muscles rippling, expanding, as if some primal force had taken over. It was instinctual, raw, and uncontrollable.

The Demon Back.

Yuujiro's next punch came at me, but this time, I didn't just dodge. I countered. My hand shot out, my body moving faster than I had ever thought possible, and I grabbed his wrist mid-strike. The sheer force of it sent a shockwave through my arm, but I held firm, something primal roaring inside me. For the first time, I saw surprise flash across my father's face—just for a split second, but it was there.

I think it was the only time I had ever seen him genuinely surprised.

He backed off, studying me, a smirk forming on his lips as he took in the sight of the Demon Back that had erupted from my body. My back felt like it was on fire, every muscle in my body screaming as the power surged through me. But despite the pain, despite the intensity of it, I felt stronger than I ever had before. The power coursing through me was unreal—dangerous, and wild, but it was mine.

Yuujiro's voice cut through the haze of adrenaline and exhaustion. "So, you're finally starting to wake up," he said, his tone almost amused. "I didn't think you'd tap into it this soon." He was clearly impressed, though he would never say it outright. He circled me like a predator assessing its prey, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

But the truth was, I didn't tap into it—it had been forced out of me. I was dying, and my body had no other choice but to unlock this power in a desperate bid for survival. It wasn't some conscious decision or victory on my part. It was instinct, pure and simple.

The Demon Back had saved me, but I wasn't in control of it. I could feel it surging through me, overwhelming my senses. My body was trembling from the raw energy, but the cost of unleashing it had been steep. I had been pushed to the brink, and while the Demon Back gave me a boost of power, it didn't change the fact that I was still starving, still exhausted, still losing ground in the fight to stay alive.

I collapsed to the ground as the surge of power subsided, my body drained. The adrenaline rush faded, leaving behind nothing but pain and exhaustion. Yuujiro was still watching me, but he didn't approach me this time. "You're getting there," he said, almost as if he was satisfied with my progress. "But don't think for a second that you're ready for what's coming."

His words hung in the air, but I couldn't respond. I was too tired, too overwhelmed by what had just happened. I had unlocked something powerful, something dangerous, but it had come at a cost.

That night, as I sat by the fire, staring into the flames once more, I realized just how precarious my situation had become. I was running out of time. Winter was closing in fast, and while the Demon Back had given me a glimpse of what I was capable of, I knew I wasn't ready. Not yet.

The training was only going to get harder. The hunger was only going to get worse. And with winter on the horizon, I had to find a way to survive—both physically and mentally. The isolation, the lack of food, the endless cycle of brutal training—it was wearing me down. But now, with the Demon Back, I had an edge.

It wasn't over yet.