The field stretched out beneath the fading sky, wild grass bending in the evening breeze. It wasn't anything special, just an empty plot of land on the edge of town, where kids sometimes kicked a ball around and older folk used it as a shortcut home. But tonight, for Rin, it might as well have been an arena.
This was also where Roy helped Kieran practise for his match.
He stood there, wooden sword in hand, bouncing on his toes with nervous energy. Roy trailed a few steps behind, his hands stuffed lazily into his pockets, scanning the field with a detached gaze.
"So this is where you want to train?" Rin asked, looking around.
Roy shrugged. "It's open, flat, and no one's around. That's all that matters." He stepped ahead, planting himself firmly in the middle of the grass before turning to face Rin. "Alright. Show me what you've got."
Rin blinked. "Huh?"
"You said you wanted me to make you better, right? Then prove to me what 'better' even means for you. Attack me."
The boy hesitated, gripping the wooden sword tighter. "But… I'll probably miss."
"Of course you'll miss." Roy's tone was flat but not cruel. "That's the point. Go on."
Rin's jaw tightened. He dashed forward with a clumsy swing, the wooden blade slicing through empty air as Roy sidestepped without effort. Rin spun around and tried again; another miss. His foot caught in the grass, nearly tripping him, but he steadied himself and charged once more. Each attempt was faster and more frantic, yet every strike was avoided by Roy's calm, minimal movements.
Finally, Rin stumbled forward, panting, his shoulders heaving. "You're not even trying!" he shouted, frustrated.
Roy gave him a cool look. "Why should I try? If you can't even land a hit on me like this, what's the point of me swinging back?"
Rin bit his lip, lowering his sword. "Then… what am I supposed to do?"
"Lesson one," Roy said, folding his arms. "Fighting isn't about swinging harder. It's about thinking. You don't win because you're stronger; you win because you see what the other guy can't."
He stepped closer, kneeling slightly to meet Rin's eye level. "You want to fight monsters? Then stop thinking of yourself as the kid with a wooden stick. Think like the one who has to survive."
Rin swallowed hard, nodding slowly.
Roy stood again, brushing grass off his trousers. "Alright. Lesson two. Stop staring at your enemy's weapon. Look at their body. Their shoulders, their hips. That's where the movement starts. The sword's just the end of the story."
He gave Rin a small push backward. "Now try again."
This time Rin steadied himself, watching Roy more carefully. He swung, not at where Roy was, but where he thought he would move to. Roy raised an eyebrow as he sidestepped again, but Rin's wooden sword clipped his sleeve this time. Just barely, but enough.
Rin's eyes widened. "I… I hit you!"
Roy really wanted to shatter this boy's happiness in that moment by telling him that he did that on purpose, not because he was a terrible person or trying to teach him a lesson. His intrusive thoughts nearly got the better of him.
Roy looked down at the faint mark on his sleeve and smirked. "Barely. But it's a start."
The boy grinned from ear to ear, clutching his wooden blade with renewed determination.
Roy turned back toward the open field, his voice calm but firm. "Good. Then let's keep going until you collapse. You wanted this, remember. No quitting."
"Yes!" Rin shouted, already rushing forward again.
And under the twilight sky, their training began.
Rin charged again.
Roy sidestepped with lazy ease, but instead of giving another instruction, he suddenly spoke.
"Rin."
The boy halted mid-swing, panting. "Yeah?"
Roy looked out over the field, the wind brushing past him, carrying the scent of fresh grass.
"You said you want to fight bad guys," Roy murmured. "Then first, you need to understand what you're fighting with."
Rin blinked. "My sword?"
Roy gave him a flat look. "That stick? No."
He stepped forward and tapped the centre of Rin's chest with two fingers.
"This."
Rin looked down. "My… heart?"
"Your prana."
The word lingered between them, heavy yet beautiful.
Roy took a breath, and for once, his voice wasn't cold; it held the faintest trace of reverence.
"Prana is life. It's breath. It's hunger, it's joy, it's fury. It's every pulse in your body and every ripple in the air. It's in you. Around you. It is you."
Rin's eyes widened as he listened.
Roy continued, pacing slowly like a lecturer from a long-forgotten temple.
"There are three basic principles every fighter must master."
He held up a finger.
"Release. The act of exerting prana out of your body. Through your limbs, your weapon, your voice. Every punch, swing, shout; powered by the force you let out."
He raised a second.
"Absorption. Prana taken from the world. You refill yourself by eating, sleeping or simply breathing in the air itself."
Rin nodded eagerly. "So resting is training?"
Roy gave him a long stare. "…In moderation. Don't get cocky."
Finally, he raised a third finger.
"Flow. The movement of prana within your body. By letting it circulate under your control by guiding it through your muscles, bones, and breath. It will help control your body the way you want it to.
Rin shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from awe. Roy folded his hands behind his back.
"In society, they say people are born with a fixed gait. The amount of Prana they can hold. Like a water tank in the body. Some are born with oceans. Others with puddles."
Rin clenched his fists. "So… mine's small?"
Roy looked down at him.
"It doesn't matter."
Rin froze.
Roy's voice sharpened.
"Because that belief, that your fate is sealed from birth, is complete utter bullshit."
The boy blinked.
Roy stepped closer, kneeling again so their eyes met.
"Gates grow," he said slowly. "Just like people. With pressure. With hunger. With will."
He tapped Rin's chest again.
"And I am going to teach you how to break your own gate."
Rin's breath hitched.
Roy stood back up, eyes glinting under the twilight.
"Without Prana, you're nothing in this world. A leaf in the wind. A rabbit in a cage."
He pointed toward the boy's heart.
"But with it?"
A faint smile tugged at the edge of his lips.
"You become the impossible possibilities themselves."
Rin's grip tightened around his wooden sword, thinking of his little sister that he promised to his parents that he would take care of.
"…I want to learn."
Roy smirked.
"You are."