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Chapter 1 : Awakening

  A sharp sting pulsed through Akitsu Shouga’s skull—hot, sudden, and disorienting.

  His eyelids fluttered open.

  For a moment, all he saw was blue.

  An endless, impossibly clear sky stretched above him, so vivid it looked painted onto the heavens. Wisps of white clouds drifted lazily across it, unbothered by the world below. Tall grass surrounded him on all sides, swaying violently in the wind. The blades brushed against his cheeks and neck like restless fingers, cold and alive.

  Akitsu let out a low groan.

  “My head… hurts…”

  He pushed himself upright, the world spinning as he clutched his forehead. His fingers trembled, not just from pain—but from something deeper, something instinctive. Slowly, carefully, he lifted his gaze and took in his surroundings.

  He lay in the center of a narrow valley.

  Towering cliffs rose on both sides, their jagged faces carved by time and weather. Wind funneled between them, howling and whispering as if carrying voices too distant to understand. The place felt ancient—untouched by anything modern, untouched by familiarity.

  Nothing here made sense.

  “Where am I…?” Akitsu muttered. “How did I end up here?”

  He searched his mind for answers.

  And found nothing.

  No images. No memories. No sense of before.

  It was as if his past had slammed into a solid wall and shattered into fog.

  A chill crept down his spine.

  His breathing grew shallow as panic tightened its grip on his chest. He staggered to his feet, nearly losing balance, and scanned the valley again—this time more desperately.

  That’s when he saw it.

  A dirt path cut through the grass, winding forward toward a small settlement in the distance. Wooden rooftops peeked above the terrain, and thin trails of smoke rose peacefully into the sky.

  A village.

  His body moved before his thoughts could catch up.

  Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he sprinted down the path, heart pounding, lungs burning. Each step felt like a lifeline.

  “Is that… a village?” he breathed. Then his eyes widened. “But—wait. Villages like this… shouldn’t they be from the seventeenth century!?”

  He slowed as he reached the entrance.

  Wooden fences lined the road. Stones were worn smooth with age. Traditional houses stood quietly beneath thatched roofs, their structure simple but sturdy. Everything looked old—painfully, unmistakably old. There were no wires. No roads. No machines.

  Villagers passed him by as if nothing were strange.

  Men carried baskets of produce. Women chatted softly while tending to stalls. Children laughed, running through the streets with wooden toys in hand. The air smelled of soil, smoke, and fresh vegetables.

  It was peaceful.

  Too peaceful.

  Akitsu stepped forward, uncertainty weighing heavily in his limbs. He tapped a man on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me… where am I?”

  The man turned. He was older, with rough, weathered hands and a warm, unguarded smile.

  “Oh, this is Sunwind Village,” he said easily. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  Sunwind Village…?

  Akitsu’s thoughts spiraled.

  I’ve never heard of that place. Where is this? Am I… really in the past?

  The villager squinted at him. “Say, where are you from? I’ve never seen you around. Are you a townsfolk by chance?”

  Akitsu forced a laugh, his throat dry.

  “No, not really… I actually wanted to ask something—”

  The words died in his throat.

  Something inside his head snapped.

  His thoughts went blank.

  Completely blank.

  His eyes widened in horror.

  The villager waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Akitsu swallowed hard.

  “I… I don’t know where I am,” he said slowly, his voice trembling. “Or where I came from.”

  The man frowned. “Did you hit your head? Do you need help?”

  “No, I’m fine… don’t worry,” Akitsu replied quickly, bowing awkwardly.

  “Well, if you say so. Enjoy your stay in our village.”

  The man walked away.

  Akitsu stood frozen as villagers continued passing him, laughing, talking—living.

  He clutched his chest.

  I don’t remember anything.

  Not my home.

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  Not my family.

  Nothing but my name.

  His breathing became erratic.

  “What should I do!? Why can’t I remember anything?! Am I going to die here? Will I ever see my mother again—my father—anyone!?”

  His voice cracked, fear spilling out before he could stop it. The world felt like it was closing in, pressing down on him from all sides.

  Then—

  A gentle hand touched his shoulder.

  He spun around.

  A girl stood behind him, about his age. Straight black hair framed her face, falling neatly to her shoulders. Her green eyes caught the sunlight, clear and calm, and when she saw his shaking hands, her expression softened with concern.

  “Um… excuse me,” she said quietly. “Do you need help?”

  Something about her presence eased the tightness in his chest—like a soft breeze clearing away the suffocating fear.

  “Well… I’m kind of lost,” Akitsu admitted. “If you can… help me, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Where do you need to go?” she asked gently. “I can take you there.”

  Akitsu hesitated.

  “I forgot everything once I got here.”

  She blinked. “Everything?”

  “I don’t know where I came from. How I got here. What happened before I woke up. Nothing.”

  “Eh?” She tilted her head. “That sounds serious.”

  “I know it does! But I just… don’t remember.”

  She placed a hand against her chest, thinking deeply. After a moment, she nodded.

  “Then come with me,” she said. “My father can help. He always figures something out.”

  She extended her hand.

  Akitsu stared at it—small, warm, steady.

  Slowly, he reached out and took it.

  “Thank you… really.”

  She smiled. “Come on.”

  Hand in hand, she guided him through the village. People greeted her warmly as they passed, some waving, others calling out her name.

  “Where are we going?” Akitsu asked.

  “To my house,” she replied. “Well—our family martial arts dojo.”

  “A dojo?”

  “Yes. Father teaches many techniques. He’s strict, but he’s good. You’ll be fine.”

  They stopped before a tall wooden gate. A faded emblem was painted at its center—a roaring hawk encircled by swirling wind.

  The moment Akitsu saw it, his body froze.

  His legs refused to move.

  Cold dread slithered through his veins, sharp and unexplained.

  The girl turned back. “What’s wrong?”

  “N-No… nothing,” he said, forcing the words out.

  “Come inside,” she said brightly. “I promise it’s safe.”

  He swallowed, then nodded.

  Inside, the courtyard opened into a training ground. Wooden dummies stood in rows. Bamboo targets swayed gently. Lanterns hung overhead. The air felt heavy—but dignified.

  At the center sat a man, cross-legged, eyes closed.

  His presence was calm.

  And overwhelming.

  “Father!” the girl called. “I brought someone. He’s lost and doesn’t remember anything.”

  The man opened his eyes.

  “Kurogane Daichi,” she whispered. “My father.”

  He rose slowly, studying Akitsu with a sharp, unreadable gaze.

  “Who have you brought this time, Hoshizaki?”

  Akitsu bowed deeply. “H-Hello, sir.”

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Akitsu Shouga… and I don’t remember anything else.”

  Daichi rubbed his chin. “Is that so?”

  He examined Akitsu’s posture, his build.

  “Town boy… or perhaps from the wastelands.”

  “I don’t know,” Akitsu replied honestly.

  After a pause, Daichi crossed his arms.

  “You may stay here,” he said. “But in exchange, you will become my disciple.”

  Akitsu blinked.

  “With a body like yours, it would be foolish to waste it.”

  Akitsu bowed deeply. “Thank you! Please accept me as your disciple! I’ll do anything!”

  Daichi smirked. “Oh, you will.”

  “Hoshizaki, show him the guest room. Training begins at dawn.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  They walked down a quiet hall lined with scrolls and weapons.

  “This is your room,” she said.

  Akitsu bowed. “Thank you… I’ll repay this someday.”

  She laughed softly. “You don’t have to.”

  “I insist.”

  She smiled. “Rest well.”

  The door slid shut.

  Alone, Akitsu sank to his knees.

  “They’re… really nice people.”

  He stared at his hands.

  “I wonder… what’ll happen to me now…”

  Outside, the wind whispered softly against the paper screen.

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