Shuriken training (2)

"Yeah." Kiyoshi nodded with a perfectly straight face.

Shisui held it in. He really did. But when he spoke, laughter seeped into his voice despite his best efforts. "So, have you worked it out?"

"Not yet."

"Then keep calculating."

Kiyoshi picked up the sixth shuriken and flicked it away, his face expressionless.

The shuriken flew out, spun twice in midair, then embedded itself in the edge of the target. It was a little closer than before, but still nowhere near the bullseye.

Shisui finally lost it. He laughed out loud-not a quiet chuckle, but the kind of laugh he simply couldn't hold back, his shoulders shaking.

"You... you really are... I've never seen anyone miss and still act so sure of themselves."

Kiyoshi remained deadpan. "I didn't miss. I'm experimenting."

"Experimenting with what?"

"Verifying the wind drift formula."

"So, have you verified it?"

"Not yet. The wind's too strong."

Shisui laughed even harder. After a while, he wiped the corners of his eyes, walked over to Kiyoshi, and patted his shoulder. "Right, right, the wind's too strong. Then let's wait until it dies down."

Kiyoshi stayed deadpan. "Yeah."

Shisui stood beside him, took a shuriken from the cloth pouch, and pointed at the target. "Watch closely. I'll only demonstrate once."

He flicked his hand.

The shuriken flew out, spun twice in midair, and struck the bullseye.

Kiyoshi looked at the shuriken in the bullseye, then at Shisui.

Shisui smiled. "It's not that the wind isn't strong. I added a twist with my wrist at this angle when I threw it. Did you catch that?"

Kiyoshi was silent for two seconds. "...No."

"Then watch again."

Shisui threw another one. This time, he slowed his movements, making the rotation of his wrist more obvious.

Kiyoshi watched his hand, breaking the movement into several stages and committing them to memory. Where the thumb pressed, the angle of the wrist's rotation, the burst of force from the forearm at the moment of release. He took each detail apart, then pieced them back together.

He thought he should be able to reproduce it.

"Let me try."

He picked up a shuriken, copied Shisui's movement, and flicked his hand.

The shuriken flew out, spun twice in midair, and embedded itself in the edge of the target. It was much closer than before, but still wasn't in the bullseye.

Shisui nodded. "That's a big improvement. You've already got the timing of the release down. Now you just need to adjust your wrist angle."

Kiyoshi tried again. This time, it struck the edge of the bullseye. A slight shift would have put it dead center.

Shisui gave a hum of approval. "You really do learn fast."

"You already said that."

"I can say it again."

Kiyoshi didn't reply. He picked up another one and kept throwing.

He threw more than a dozen in succession. A few hit the bullseye, but most were still off. Even so, he could feel each throw getting closer than the last.

He stopped to catch his breath. After so many consecutive throws, his right hand was a little sore. He shook his wrist, and the joint gave a crack. It didn't exactly hurt, but it felt sore and tight.

This body was still too weak. Just a few shuriken throws, and it was already sore. I needed to train harder.

Shisui leaned against a tree and watched him, a hint of seriousness in his voice. "You train harder than I expected. Most people's hands would already be shaking after throwing more than a dozen in a row, but you're still adjusting your form."

Kiyoshi stayed deadpan. "I'm used to it."

"You can get used to training, too?"

"When you're training, you have to get used to it, whether you like it or not."

Shisui looked at him without speaking.

After a pause, he asked, "Kiyoshi, have you ever thought about what you're training so desperately for?"

Kiyoshi held a shuriken in his hand without throwing it.

He stood there for a while, then said, "To stay alive."

Shisui froze for a moment.

Kiyoshi didn't explain. He flicked his hand and sent the shuriken flying.

Straight into the bullseye.

He looked at the shuriken in the bullseye, his face expressionless. "The wind died down."

Shisui watched him for a while, then smiled. "Yeah, it died down."

[System notification: Host detected undergoing "Body Flicker Shisui · One-on-one special training · Advanced course." Face value +30 (Shisui's affection continues to rise). Awkwardness value +25 ("Calculating wind drift" was exposed as an attempt to save face; Shisui laughed until his insides hurt. Double awkwardness value recorded). Totals: awkwardness value 883, face value 1120.]

[System notification: Host has voiced his underlying motivation, "To stay alive," for the first time. Shisui's understanding has increased. Shisui is beginning to notice that you are more than just an interesting child-something is weighing on your mind.]

Kiyoshi lowered his head to look at his hand. He had gripped the shuriken too tightly, leaving his knuckles a little pale. He relaxed his hand and flexed his fingers, watching the blood return to his fingertips as their pads slowly regained their normal color.

Shisui walked up to the target and pulled out the shuriken one by one. He was meticulous, wiping each one with a cloth before putting it back in the pouch.

"Let's call it a day." He glanced back at Kiyoshi. "Coming again tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll be here at the same time tomorrow."

Kiyoshi nodded.

Shisui put away the pouch, stood up, and brushed the dust off himself. He took two steps, then looked back. "Kiyoshi."

"Yeah?"

"When you say 'stay alive,' what do you mean?"

Kiyoshi looked at him, remained silent for a while, then said, "Just stay alive."

"...That's as good as no answer at all."

"Yeah."

Shisui smiled and didn't press him further. His figure blurred, and he vanished into the woods.

Kiyoshi remained where he was, looking in the direction Shisui had disappeared for a while.

Then he bent down, picked up the last shuriken on the ground, and threw it once more at the now-empty target.

Straight into the bullseye.

He looked at the bullseye and stood there for a while, then walked over, pulled the shuriken out, and slipped it into his pocket.

He shouldered his schoolbag and headed down the mountain.

The sun was nearly setting. Light filtered through gaps in the leaves, scattering patches of brightness across the path. He walked over them, his pace neither fast nor slow.

He was thinking.

He had answered Shisui's question truthfully. But the truth was often the hardest thing for people to understand. He hadn't intended for anyone to understand, either.

He stopped and crouched beside the path to tie his shoelace. It had come loose earlier, and he'd stepped on it several times. If he didn't tie it, he would trip. Once he was done, he pulled it tight and checked the lace on his other shoe. It wasn't loose, so he stood and kept walking.

He looked up at the sky. The sunset had stained the clouds orange, patch after patch, as though someone had smeared marmalade across the heavens.

He watched for a while, then kept walking.