Whispers

The sun was barely reddening the sky on the horizon, still mostly hidden from sight by the almost ever-present clouds that hung in the sky, and yet here I was, standing in the freezing cold of the land of iron waiting for my teacher to arrive for my training.

Tightening my kimono around my chest, I tried to grasp at every single grain of warmth I could find inside of it and yet said warmth almost always disappeared as soon as I had found one such point of contact between my skin and the warmed-up kimono. It was maddening!

Luckily, Mifune-sama chose that moment to step onto the veranda of his house, already in the company of someone I had missed this morning, namely Toshiro-san, my appointed guard.

"Good morning Makoto. I hope you've had a restful sleep as you have quite the day waiting for you." Mifune-sama said while walking towards me with Toshiro-san trailing behind him dutifully. I simply nodded, which seemed to satisfy Mifune-sama, who waved for Toshiro-san to step forwards.

"While I will instruct you, Toshiro-san will be your sparring partner until I deem you ready for something else." Toshiro-san nodded at that and picked up a wooden bokken I hadn't seen laying on the veranda and threw it at me.

I hastily caught it, not prepared at all for him to suddenly throw it at me, which earned me my first of many probable corrections of the day.

"Wrong. You always catch a weapon thrown at you with your left, since I know you are right handed and thusly need your right to draw or utilize your weapon efficiently. Again." Upon throwing the bokken back towards Toshiro-san, he immediately showed me how to do it correctly.

Instead of turning my torso in order to evade a possible hit from the thrown weapon, you use your feet to reposition yourself, while your upper body is always directed at the threat, which in this case is the thrower, and never leave it out of your sight.

"You will repeat this exercise whenever one of you drops your weapons until it becomes second nature to you, Makoto." Mifune-sama said, to which I bowed in acceptance of his instruction, just as Toshiro-san did.

After receiving my bokken back from Toshiro-san, I was told to grasp the bokken and show my grip to Mifune-sama. I did, just I had learned in the army. Right hand grasping the top half while the left grasped the lower half of the handle.

"Your grip is too tight. If you grasp your weapon too tightly you become inflexible and slow, while if you hold it too loosely you will drop your weapon the second you make contact with another weapon. Observe." Mifune-sama explained while taking the bokken out of my hands to show me how he does it.

Looking carefully, I observed what he did differently. To me it looked like Mifune-sama held the sword only by using his little,-ring, -middle finger and his thump while his pointing finger was solely used to direct his sword and keep it flexible in his grasp.

More over there was approximately one fist of space between his right and left hand. I wondered why that was the case.

"Well, there are a couple of reasons for that. First and foremost is that you actually gain the power behind your attacks from you left hand, meaning your lower hand. When you swing your sword you do it by directing your sword with your right while you pull your left hand towards your torso mid-swing. That way you gain the most out of every one of your cuts and actually begin to cut instead of chopping with your sword.

Another reason is that you loose stability with both of your hands too close to each other whenever you block a blow. But you'll see that later for yourself. For now however, all you'll be doing is swing that weapon, and believe me when I say that you will not enjoy this exercise overtly much." Mifune-sama explained, patiently pointing out what I did wrong while showing me how I should grasp the sword instead.

After he was sure I had a good grip on the bokken, we moved onto the actual exercise. Swinging, or rather cutting.

Left foot forwards, right foot backwards. Knees lightly bent, backside straight while my arms held my bokken above my head with the tip pointing above and behind me. Swing downwards while stepping forwards with your right foot. Spin your left foot on the ball of the foot to give an additional boost to the forwards momentum. Rinse and repeat.

I don't know how often or how long I kept slashing the bokken but the sweat that ran down both my face as well as the rest of my body was a good indicator that I had been at it for quite some time now.

Meanwhile my arms had grown so heavy they felt as if they were made from lead, not flesh and bones.

In order to keep going I tried a variety of things. I started humming, no use. I tried counting, no use. I indulged my interest in philosophy and still no use. My arms, legs, back and every other muscle in my body just hurt and screamed from every action that I took.

In the end, I did the only thing I could do. Whenever my mind wavered and my body screamed suddenly at me to stop, to just give in and rest I would crush that little whisper in the back of my mind like an especially persistent and annoying ant under my heel. And I kept going.

Even when it began to snow, I didn't stop. Instead I even enjoyed the soft and cool impact of the snow on my completely drenched form, which was a small balm on my tired body and mind.

The snow got fiercer and the wind stronger but I kept going. While I was at it I didn't even know any longer if what I was doing was worth it. I had been so sure about my decision while I was sitting there on the veranda comfortably besides Mifune-sama, oblivious to the pure grit and will necessary to get anywhere on a path as difficult and harrowing as the martial path.

I doubted myself, I doubted my intelligence, I doubted my convictions and believes. But when it came down to it, all of those meant nothing whenever I swung my bokken. Even though it certainly was no sword, to me it felt as if I was almost cutting down all of my insecurities with every swing whenever they popped up and threatened to overwhelm me.

Thus, the sword become the very thing that was both the origin of my suffering and its salvation. A saying Tanaka-sensei had once used in one of our daily lessons sprung to mind, namely: A sword and lies are not compatible.

When I first heard that saying I simply took it as just that, a saying. But now, after swinging for hours while my mind tried to lie to itself, to me and my dedication to this new cause that I had found for myself, I couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly.

At some point in time, I hadn't even realized when, I had simply collapsed to my knees. And yet my hands still held firmly onto the bokken. I had done what I could but in the end I was still just a child, and I knew it.

At that moment Mifune-sama had finally had decided that it was enough for the day and carried me towards my home while I was barely conscious any longer, so tired I was.

When I awoke next, it was pitch black outside my windows. I yawned in tiredness while my arms and legs felt like one giant cramp that refused to budge.

Under much groaning and an application of my iron will, I managed to stand up and walk out of my sleeping room. However, I was surprised when I came upon Mifune-sama sitting at my fireplace while some food bubbled away inside the cooking pot over the fire.

"Ahh, you are finally awake. Would you like some tea? I just made a new one." I just nodded while barely keeping another yawn from clawing its way out of my mouth and moved over to sit next to Mifune-sama near my fireplace.

After handing me my cup of tea, we began slurping said tea in tandem, while both of us ended up with a smile upon our faces.

"You passed." Mifune-sama spoke suddenly into the silence that had descended between us.

"Passed?" I asked, a little confused and hoped Mifune-sama would share what he meant by that exactly. He did.

"You truly see a person for the first time when they have to overcome themselves to reach their goals and how they do so. You could have simply dropped your bokken and waited a few minutes before you pick it up again, thus giving in to your inherent complacency. But you didn't. You kept on going. Each swing of your bokken having enough weight behind it that it could have as well been a sword with which you cut yourself a path through your mind occluded by the whispers that tried to convince you to stop.

Not many are able to do so. I have trained many men and have equally as many men seen fail to overcome themselves when it mattered.

So you see, you proved to yourself that you have what it takes to walk this path and by doing so you proved to me also that you were worthy of training in the martial way.

Now, let us eat, and afterwards you should head back to bed. Tomorrow we will begin you real training. Not that today was no real training but you'll see what I mean once we begin in the morning." Mifune-sama explained and I smiled in understanding.

I wasn't angry that I had been tested in such a way. After all, Mifune-sama was possibly the most known man in the land of iron and to study under and be trained by him meant quite a lot, so in a way I was glad I had been tested and passed said test. But most of all I was happy that I had not succumbed to the whispers that had urged me to give in and rest. I had persisted and come out on top. It was an amazing feeling. It felt like I had won an important battle. It may have been small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things but in my little world it had counted for something. A small step as in the right direction, as they say. And tomorrow, I would take the next.