Maintaining distance is sometimes something we must do when in a dire situation.
That was the philosophy my parents taught me when they were alive.
While we ate at the round table, my parents loved to discuss their work. From their annoying colleagues to the mothers at the market who always gossiped about our family behind our backs. Happy laughter always accompanied our conversations.
My parents and I used to live comfortably—we could eat proper meals, drink clean water, and even enjoy simple things like family time. Not everyone had that.
When I was in junior high school, I was constantly called to the school counseling office. I was always involved in fights—to the point that rumors spread that one of the students I hit ended up in a coma.
Usually, I never hit anyone. But now, after my father passed away a year ago—I had become a troubled child. I was always picked up by my mother. She would usually hold my shoulders when she arrived. Her face was withered like a fallen leaf when she saw me.
"Son... Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why did you fight this time, son? Did your friends bully you? Or something else? Tell me, son."
My mother always gave me the same barrage of questions, to the point that I was fed up with her attitude. My hands clenched tightly. She should know that I'm annoyed by people flaunting their happiness with their fathers... Because every time I beat up my classmates, it was always for the same reason.
I clenched my teeth. "Enough, Mom! Don't ask me about it anymore! I'm fed up with your attitude like that!"
I left her alone, running away from the school corridor. And without my knowledge, she cried—covering her face with both hands.
The next day, I prepared to go to school as usual. I saw her in the kitchen, cooking food for my breakfast. My guilt from yesterday was still stored in my heart. I wanted to apologize, but it felt heavy. My ego was big.
The sound of the spatula scraping against the wok echoed briefly before the flame died when my mother turned the stove knob to the left. She put my favorite food—Fried Rice—into the bowl she had prepared. She brought it, put it on the round table. She sat in a simple plastic chair, I followed after she did.
Fried rice was in front of me. I picked up the chopsticks on the right, lifted the bowl, and brought it close to my lips to eat directly. She only watched me from across the table, smiling gently. I put my bowl back, putting the chopsticks beside it. The food in the bowl was gone. I looked at her, then squinted.
"... Aren't you eating, Mom?"
She shook her head. "No, son. I'm not hungry."
My eyes widened. What's wrong with Mom today?
Mom looked at the clock hanging, not far from there. The time already showed eight twenty. She looked at me again.
"Son, it's already past eight o'clock. Hurry up and go to school, you'll be late."
I looked at the clock afterward. It was true that it showed that time. I ran, took my black Randoseru bag, put on a pair of school shoes, then said goodbye from the open door.
"Ittekimasu!"
"Itterasshai!" Mom replied.
Before I could get out of the doorway, Mom's voice stopped me.
"Wait, son!"
I stopped, turned around. I saw Mom hurrying, giving me a Bento.
"Here, son. You almost forgot to bring this."
I took it, hanging it on my right hand. I looked at my mother one more time, still smiling. She saw my unbuttoned shirt, trying to button it. My guilt grew bigger, defeating my ego. …I have to apologize to Mom.
"Mom—"
"Son, do you remember when Dad was here, we always talked at the dining table?"
I was silent, my mouth locked again. I nodded slowly.
She smiled. "At that dining table, we always talked about many things, and one of them was your future when you were asleep. Your father actually knew that he wouldn't live much longer. Because he had stage 4 lung cancer since you were in third grade of elementary school."
I was silent. Unable to say a word.
"At that time, I told him to tell you. But your father said, "Don't, our child won't be able to focus on school.", that's why I didn't tell you until today."
My shirt only had two more unbuttoned holes, she was still continuing to button it.
"I don't know why I want to say it today, but what is clear is that in the middle of my conversation with your father... he left a special message for you when you were in junior high school. He said, "Tell him, be a strong man! Not emotionally, but in terms of patience. When there is a dire situation, whatever it is, make distance the solution. And if you rush in without thinking, you will immediately lose in reality." That's roughly the message he left to me."
Unbeknownst to me, the buttons that were previously unbuttoned—were all buttoned up. What my mother said, I planted in my mind. Mom, who was in the Genkan, took a few steps back. She waved her hand, before I went out, leaving her at home alone.
That day, I felt strange. From Mom not eating, and the slightly different atmosphere of the house. Until finally, my strange premonition—towards the bad, became real in front of me. Mom, who had loved me all this time, left me in a state of being hit by a car, at fifteen forty—right when she wanted to go to the market, after I had just come home from school.
Police tape surrounded the scene. A luxurious black car dented in the front, hitting a traffic light pole. The person in the car died, his face full of blood, touching the steering wheel. And my mother lay on the rough sidewalk as the police carefully zipped her into a body bag. I heard the people around me, they said the cause of my mother's death.
My mother was hit by a drunk driver.
I fell to my knees, a broken cry escaping from behind my hands as I covered my face. I didn't understand. The incident happened so fast. I was left alone by my mother without being told.
B-but… I… I… haven't apologized to Mom yet…
Everything was over at that moment. Regret was stored in my chest. I lived my days until the moment before I entered this world.
And unexpectedly, the message that Dad said would be useful in a condition like this.
I pushed my body away, circled around him, and turned my back to the person in front of me. I pulled my sword from the side, my thigh muscles tensed, then shot towards him. Before my sword reached his body, he quickly turned his head, turned his body, his spear held tightly with both hands—blocking my attacking katana sword. My eyes widened for a moment. Damn…
Our weapons collided with each other, splinters of wood flying into the air. My wooden katana slowly cracked, creating a small gap. I clicked my tongue, looking at the crack. …It can't be like this. I pushed him with my muscle strength, my katana cracked even more—but I still forced it. He tried to resist my push, but unfortunately he lost and retreated a few meters back. His eyes looked at me in annoyance.
I knew he was a tough opponent, but I didn't expect him to be this difficult! My stance was ready again, his stance too. Before I had a chance to attack him again, it turned out that he lunged at me first. My eyes widened instantly, my brain tried to work harder. I looked around, my eyeballs moved quickly. Gap... where is the gap—! Ah. I found it. His spear poked straight, an inch away from touching me. Before all that happened, I quickly ducked—put my katana sword down, then rolled to the left.
His eyes widened. "... Eh?"
He continued to slide forward, before finally rolling—turning his back to me. He was now at the edge of the arena. Before he had a chance to turn his body, to make a move, I was already behind him—pushing his chest, which was only halfway turned, causing him to fall and exit the arena.
A loud sound echoed as his body slammed onto the concrete floor. He looked up at me, and I stared down, a sharp silhouette against the light above. He looked at me, his hands trembling, his expression one of pure fear. He stumbled back a few steps, stopping only when his back met the person behind him.
His gaze quickly changed upwards, he saw the person who first dueled with me—Risshun. His expression immediately changed to happiness. He stood up, turned his body, then immediately hugged the person in front of him.
"Brother Risshun! I'm scared..."
Risshun's eyes widened instantly. He immediately pushed, trying to break free from the embrace of the person in front of him.
"Let me go, you stupid little brother! What's wrong with you!"
Risshu tightened his hug even more. "I don't want to... I'm still scared."
The scene of affection between brother and sister attracted the attention of the room for a moment. Big Brother Fukuro, who was laughing loudly, made all the attention quickly turn to him. He did it for a few minutes, before finally stopping while holding my shoulder. I only realized after he touched me. Without realizing it, he was already in front of me. …Again, I feel like I'm possessed by something.
"That fight was so cool, my little brother Touji! I didn't expect you could fight like that! Letting go of your weapon, to create a winning opportunity! TCAHAHA!" He faced the group of ten people, one of his hands still holding my shoulder. "My little brothers! You saw little brother Touji's fight, right?!"
They nodded simultaneously. A smile greeted the corner of Big Brother Fukuro lips afterward.
"Do what little brother Touji did when in distress! I know that the sword is like your second life, but there are times when you have to let go of one life, right? So, you don't have to risk your life just because of a sword! Understand?!"
Their bodies instantly straightened. Their hands immediately folded behind them. "Understood, Big Brother!" they answered, in unison.
Big Brother Fukuro smile widened even more. "Good if you understand!"
Big Brother Fukuro looked at me again for a moment. My shoulder was hit twice while saying, "Continue, my little brother Touji." Before finally leaving.
In the middle of his steps, I just remembered something. My katana sword. I looked around, not far from there I saw my katana was almost broken. I looked back at Big Brother Fukuro, shouting to call him.
" Big Brother Fukuro! My katana sword!"
He turned his head, then saw my wooden katana sword was about to break. He laughed for a moment, before telling the person near the equipment place to throw the same weapon. The person nearby took it, then threw it to Big Brother Fukuro. Big Brother Fukuro, who had received it, immediately threw it to me.
"Here."
I caught it using both of my hands, then looked at it for a moment. I gripped the new wooden katana firmly.
Big Brother Fukuro started walking again, stopping right near the side of the stairs. His gaze watched me again. The next person began to be called by him one by one. Some of the five of them had been easily defeated by me.
In the middle of my fight was going on, the big door in the back sounded loud—trying to open. Big Brother Fukuro reflexively turned his head back, seeing the person who slowly entered. For a few moments, Big Brother Fukuro eyes narrowed for a moment, before finally widening.
"He..."