29 Home

Weeks? Months? Years? What is time?

These were all questions I asked myself while remaining isolated inside the small log cabin. Creating a technique was hard work. It wasn't nearly on the level of regrouping an arm or dealing with the monotony of doing the same thing day in and day out for a year straight, but it was still tiring. At least my I engaged my brain and kept my brain cells from committing suicide.

At that point, I didn't care anymore. I already went through all stages of grief. Regrowing my arm helped me overcome the constant sense of dread I felt before at least. But the work was still mind numbing. All in all though, I started sleeping better, and I even became accustomed to social isolation, to the point where I forgot I hadn't used my voice in months. Doing so for the first time felt weird.

Usually, you wouldn't notice changes in your own voice since you use it on a daily basis. But someone who you haven't spoken to in months could immediately spot the difference, especially when going through puberty. Which was unfortunately happening to me. And so, hearing my own voice change so drastically had me a little shook. 

That's when I knew I had spent too much time on that mountain.

After God knows how much time, probably 2 winters then, I was ready. Having created five forms for Ice breathing, I finally decided to leave the accursed mountain and return to civilization. 

Even though I did wash myself every now and then, I longed for a nice warm bath. Not to mention that small quantities of melted snow and a bit of rubbing could only go so far. This was evident when looking at my now long white hair that reached just passed my shoulders. It could barely even be called white anymore as it was filled with all sorts of grime and other unidentifiable stuff.

Oh how I longed for soap.

Even the primitive bath houses at my house were still leagues better than dumping cold water on myself, not to mention how much I missed my shower back in my old world. This whole bathing situation could've been avoided of course, if I had anything else but wooden cups to hold water in. Though, as with all things, I eventually got used to it. That alongside my natural resistance to cold temperatures made cold water feel just normal.

I picked up my stuff, which only included my sword and a meal consisting of the best meat I've even tasted, though my sense of taste might have been skewed after cooking for myself for so long, some small nuts that I gathered, and the most vile and disgusting bugs I could get my hands on. Good protein.

Even with all that food, I still had to ration a lot during those two years. Though as time went on, my stomach probably got stronger from all the snow and bugs I ate so I could eat a lot more stuff without getting sick. 

My body got scrawnier, as expected from periods of prolonged starvation. I wasn't smart about it unfortunately, if I had stopped working out, I could've saved energy by reducing muscle mass, but that would mean I would have to start all over again when I got back, and starvation wasn't that big of a deal. For me at least.

After picking up my things, including all the old man's books, I got going, but not before bowing to the place that sheltered me for those 2 years. 

"I will never forget the time I spent here. This place taught me more life lessons than I learned in both my lives combined. Thank you" I said, addressing the house. "Fuck, I'll miss this place." I wiped a stray tear rolling down my cheek.

For all the torment, isolation, madness and frustration I experienced here, I just couldn't hate it. The same goes to the mountain. Despite how terribly lonely I was in this place, despite how much pain both mental and physical I was put through, I couldn't bring myself to hate it. For every piece of me that I had lost on that mountain, I found another, more important piece that set me on a path to become whole again. 

My motivation still remained though. I wanted to become stronger, much stronger than I currently was. Unlike before however, this thirst for strength didn't stem from arrogance, it came from a different place. What that place was, I couldn't tell. To what end did I want power for? I didn't know. Again, I had this overwhelming gut feeling that I was walking down the right path. Whether that feeling was something greater, akin to destiny, or something malicious meant to device me, I also didn't know.

What I was sure of, is that I walked down that mountain a slightly different person than I was before. And I welcomed that change.

*

The walk down was straight forward. No avalanche, no blizzard, and no demons. Clear blue skies above me, no clouds in sight. It truly felt like the mountain was rejoicing in my departure. I hoped to return one day, I quite liked the place.

"Guess I have Stockholm syndrome or whatever." I laughed as I kicked a rock down the path I was walking on. 

Getting home was also an easy task. The cloudless skies made it easy to navigate even for someone directionally challenged like me. It seemed like I had left at the perfect time, just in time for summer to begin rolling around. 

The cherry blossoms were still in bloom that late into spring, of course, there weren't that high on the mountain where the cabin was, but I began seeing them as I approached the base of the mountain

The last time I walked on those roads, the surroundings were pure white, everything was covered in layers upon layers of snow. Now though, after 2 more winters had passed, it was spring. Most of the snow melted away, revealing the vibrant colors of nature, taking away from the dreary atmosphere of winter.

I used to think I preferred winter back in my old world. There was something magical about how the pristine white snow would cover the landscape and rid it of all impurities, instead replacing them with a blanket of pure white. Reality is different though. A person can only take so many years of non stop snow and cold temperatures before starting to bear a grudge against the white powder. I guess the same could be said for sunlight too, when the only thing out all year is the sun, it makes one long for the cold release of winter.

Regardless, the road wasn't long and in just a day, I reached the gates of the estate. I was both excited and scared out of my wits. Never in this life had I felt such anxiety. What if I'm still not good enough, what if everyone changed so much that I couldn't recognize them anymore? What if they thought I was dead for these two years?

Putting aside all the questions, I approached the man guarding the gates.

"H-hello." I said in a meek voice. I was still not used to talking to people.

"Halt! Identify yourself." He said while blocking my way with his naginata, a spear-like weapon.

"Yukiko Fujiki." I replied.

I didn't remember seeing that particular guard, so I just assumed that he didn't know who I was.

"Yea right. I know that little brat, he barely reaches up to my chest, not to mention he doesn't look homeless." He quipped, pointing at my tattered kimono. 

I sighed and pointed at my white hair, a symbol of our family.

"Yea, that's me. Look." 

"What are you pointing at your hair for, you fool. All I see is filth and mud." He snorted.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're extremely unprofessional?" 

"Beat it." He scoffed.

Then, I suddenly remembered something.

Snapping my fingers in his direction I said,

"Ah, you're that guard who's ass I beat. The night of the festival. Remember me? I could barely recognize you. Did you get shorter?"

The guard scowled at me for a good minute before speaking again.

"Awfully informal are we? How do you even know about that?" 

"Because I was there, I was the one that knocked you out." 

"Sure you were. Listen here, there's no way that a guy like you resembles that little brat in any way." 

"What are you saying? I don't think I look that different, do I? Anyway, just look at my eyes, they're red aren't they?" 

The guard's brow started twitching.

"How am I supposed to see your eyes if they're covered up under all that hair!" He yelled out, presumably frustrated for some odd reason.

"Just let me in, come on, I'm tired. All I wanna do is take a nice long bath and sleep all day." I replied.

"Yeah, so do I. Now how many times do I have to tell you. Beat it." 

His scowl turned serious as he stopped blocking the door and pointed his weapon towards me.

"The hell's your problem?" I asked, bewildered by the guard's temperament.

"What the hell is YOUR problem? You can't just come here and announce that you're the young master who's gone missing! You can't expect to get away with such a blatant lie!" He roared, readying his weapon.

I was taken aback. I didn't expect such a strong reaction from a random guard.

Raising my arms in a placating manner, I said "Just calm down, take me inside and we can sort this out." 

Then, a rough voice sounded out from behind the gates.

"What's with the commotion, Aoki?" 

The guard's fierce glare was replaced with a look of surprise as he snapped his head towards the gate.

"There's this guy who claims he's the missing young master." He said in a high voice.

There was a pause for a few seconds.

"Let him in," The man on the other side ordered.

The guard had to do a double take upon hearing that. He looked at the gate, then he looked at me again, all while cautiously scanning every inch of my being.

"But sir, he's armed-" He argued 

"Open the fucking gate!" 

"Yes sir!!" 

He lowered his weapon and ushered me towards the gate while still keeping a very close eye on my movements.

As I stood in front of the opening gate, I felt a knot swelling up in the back of my throat. I was scared.

The gate slowly opened inwards, revealing a tall figure standing right behind it. 

The man had his arms crossed, but had a soft expression on his face.

"You're back." He smiled.

"Yea… I am." 

//////////

A/N

Double release today. Give me your power stones.

Also, sorry for the drawn out training arc. I'll have more interesting stuff happen from now on.