Soul of a Samurai

The morning began like every other.

I woke up before the sun had fully risen, my body still aching from yesterday's training.

But I was used to it by now.

I stretched my arms, rolled my shoulders, and sat up from my futon. My muscles protested, but I ignored them. This was my routine.

After washing my face, I joined my mother and father at the table for breakfast. The warm scent of rice and fish filled the air, and I ate in silence, my mind already preparing for the day's training.

Then, as I finished my meal, my father spoke.

"Come outside."

I blinked.

That was new.

Normally, we would finish eating, and I would head outside on my own to begin training.

But something about my father's tone told me today would be different.

Without a word, I stood up and followed him out.

We walked to the training field behind our house, the morning air crisp and cool.

As we stood there, my father turned to face me.

His lone arm was crossed over his chest, his sword resting at his side. His eyes, sharp as ever, studied me for a moment before he spoke.

"For the past two months, your focus has been on conditioning your body and maintaining your grip on the sword."

I nodded. It was true. The last two months had been nothing but pushing myself to complete 1000 swings a day, ensuring my body could endure the strain.

It had been hell.

But I had done it.

Now what?

My father's gaze didn't waver.

"Starting today, you will add something new to your training."

I straightened. New training?

"Dodging."

I tilted my head, confused.

"Dodging?"

My father nodded.

"It is one thing to swing a sword. It is another to stay standing while doing so."

I frowned, thinking about his words.

It made sense.

If I couldn't avoid attacks, then my strength meant nothing. A single blow would take me down, and my sword would never have the chance to strike.

I clenched my fists.

It wasn't enough to be strong.

I had to be fast.

I had to be untouchable.

I nodded firmly.

"Okay."

My father gave a slight nod in return.

Then, without hesitation, we began.

The first half of the day was the same as always—brutal physical training.

Push-ups. Running. Lifting boulders. Carrying my father on my back as I sprinted across the field.

The weights had increased again.

The distance had been lengthened.

The rest time had been cut even further.

But I endured.

I moved faster than before. My body no longer shook after each push-up. My lungs didn't burn as much when I ran.

I had improved.

But the real challenge was about to begin.

The sun hung high in the sky when my father finally set me down in the middle of the field.

A small pile of stones lay at his feet.

I eyed them warily.

I already knew what was coming.

My father met my gaze.

"Dodge."

Then—without another word—he threw one.

I barely reacted in time.

The stone whizzed past my face, missing my cheek by a hair's width.

Before I could breathe, another one was already coming.

I dropped to the ground just in time for it to fly over my head.

Then another. And another.

They didn't stop.

I twisted my body, sidestepped, ducked, rolled—anything to avoid being hit.

But it wasn't enough.

A stone smashed into my shoulder.

I winced.

Then another struck my side.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the pain.

My father did not slow down.

I lost count of how many times I was hit.

Each time, I forced myself to keep moving.

I had to react faster.

I had to see them coming before they hit me.

I focused harder, my eyes locked onto my father's movements.

His arm twitched before each throw.

The angle of his body shifted depending on the direction.

I could predict it.

The next stone came—

And I dodged it before it even left his hand.

By the time we finished, I was covered in bruises.

My body ached in new places, but there was a small satisfaction in my chest.

I had started to understand.

This was only the first step.

As the sun began to lower, my father gave his final instruction of the day.

"Now, swing. A thousand times."

Despite my exhaustion, I grabbed my sword.

I was ready.

I lifted it and began.