Sitting cross-legged on the grassy field, Ren closed his eyes and began to regulate his breathing in a slow, orderly rhythm. "Fuuu..."
Spreading his spiritual power outward, the young boy focused intently, attempting to forcefully pull the ambient energy particles from the surrounding air directly into his body.
"Stop!" Yako sharply interrupted his attempt before he could draw even a single breath of it in.
She then explained firmly, "Forcefully pulling in natural energy is not the way. What you are doing goes entirely against the natural order of the world. If you try to dominate the energy, the malice hidden within it will latch onto you much more easily."
Gracefully sitting down cross-legged on the grass directly opposite him, Yako closed her eyes and settled her hands on her knees. "Observe my breathing," she instructed softly.
"Fuuu..." Suddenly, Yako's entire presence shifted, seamlessly blending with the natural world around her.
Sitting just a few feet away, Ren looked on in absolute shock. If he couldn't see her sitting right in front of him with his own two eyes, he would have sworn she had disappeared entirely. Her massive spiritual signature had completely vanished into the surrounding environment.
Forcing his racing heart to calm down, Ren focused every ounce of his attention on his new master, carefully observing the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest.
"Listen to the breath of the world..." she whispered, her voice sounding as if it were carried by the wind itself.
Slightly confused by her instruction, Ren could only sit there, racking his brain to understand the cryptic words. 'Listen to the breath of the world? How am I supposed to do that?'
When Yako offered no further explanation, the young boy simply narrowed his eyes and focused entirely on analysing her every microscopic movement.
Sensing his intense, calculating scrutiny, Yako remained completely silent. To become a true Sage, one had to develop their own unique understanding of nature and forge their own path. If Ren simply followed her instructions to the letter and copied her breathing perfectly, he would never become a Sage, let alone ever surpass her.
That was exactly why she could only give him vague, cryptic hints. Letting him watch her meditate was a hidden test to see if he truly had the intuition required for the Sage Arts. If he merely emulated her, it meant he had already failed.
Meanwhile, Kon sat off to the side, watching the duo with a deeply bitter, melancholic look in his eyes. When he was just a young pup, he had also been taught by Yako. But this exact, seemingly simple step was the sole reason he could never become a Sage himself. He had been given countless chances by the Yokai Sage over the years, but he simply lacked the innate talent to form his own understanding of becoming one with the world.
'Sigh… Ren-chan, I hope you can do what I could not and succeed.' Kon had incredibly high hopes for the boy. If the six-year-old had already managed to develop his own spiritual sight and sense natural energy without any formal instruction, surely he could conquer this hurdle and take his first real step into the world of Sages... right?
**********
Time quickly passed them by, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, evening finally descended upon the training field.
"Fuuu..." Slowly emerging from her deep meditation, Yako looked up at the darkening sky. "Ara? The time has gone by so fast."
Lowering her gaze, she looked over at Ren. The six-year-old had clearly failed to form his own understanding of the world's breath. Instead, his bloodshot eyes were locked in an intense, unblinking stare at the exact space where she sat, having stubbornly forced himself to concentrate for hours on end.
"Hehe. Ren-chan's intensely focused look is certainly cute, but—" Yako abruptly raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Click! "—don't get too obsessed with it~"
"Eh? Huh?" Snapped violently out of his deep trance, Ren blinked his dry, aching eyes and looked around in utter confusion. 'Is it over already?'
"Ren-chan, let's head back~!" Yako chirped in a cheerful, sing-song voice. Reaching over, she gently scooped up the softly snoring Kon, cradling the sleeping little fox in her arms.
"Huh? What about the Sage practice?" Ren asked, tilting his head in disappointment.
"Maa, maa. Becoming a Sage isn't something that happens in a single day. There is no need to be so impatient," Yako explained with a warm, motherly smile. "Let's go eat! Ren-chan, what would you like for dinner? Mama Yako will cook for you."
"Oh..." Ren nodded. He was a bit frustrated with his lack of progress, but his self-training had taught him never to bite off more than he could chew. Stretching his stiff legs, he obediently followed Yako off the grassy field. "Um, then... sukiyaki?"
"Hehe, then you are in luck, Ren-chan! Mama Yako is the absolute best at making sukiyaki!" Yako boasted proudly, taking the lead.
In truth, this was not because Yako was an incredibly skilled chef, but simply because sukiyaki was a famously easy meal, essentially just a hotpot where you boiled a savoury broth and threw all the ingredients in together.
The rest of the walk back to their quarters was spent just like this. Ren and Yako chatted casually under the moonlit sky, a genuinely warm, familial atmosphere blooming between the scarred boy and the ancient Yokai.
Oh, and a little fox sleeping peacefully in his mother's embrace, we certainly can't forget about him.
**********
The night soon passed, and morning came...
As usual, an absolute ruckus echoed through the Mizuki estate. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! True to form, Yako was back to her playful, chaotic antics, trying to wake the rest of the household up as annoyingly as possible with her gongs. But, clearly, her ambush had failed yet again.
"Ugh, Ren-chan is nooooo fun!" Yako complained petulantly, dropping her cymbals. "Why do you always have to wake up soooo early~?!"
"Um... hehe. Just habit," Ren replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Thanks his sword training, his internal clock was permanently set to the crack of dawn.
"I don't care! Tomorrow, Ren-chan has to wake up later!" Huffing, Yako crossed her arms and demanded childishly.
"Ugh, you old hag. Stop with this childishness," Kon snapped at his immature mother.
How ironic. When the little fox was alone with Ren, he was equally as childish but the moment his mother was around, he suddenly tried to act like a dignified, mature grown-up.
"What... did you say?!"
Suddenly, the terrifying illusion of a demonic Oni mask formed behind Yako. She bellowed at Kon, her aura instantly turning pitch-black as genuine murderous intent filled the room. Clearly, calling a woman an "old hag" was a disaster waiting to happen.
What are we to do with a fox who loves to court death so much? Sigh...
"Hiiiii! Help me, Ren-chan!" Kon squeaked. Sprinting across the room, he quickly dove behind Ren, shamelessly using the six-year-old boy as a human shield.
"Oh, no you don't, you rebellious son!" Yako was faster. Blurring past Ren, she easily caught Kon by the scruff of his neck and ruthlessly dug her knuckles into the top of his head, grinding them in without mercy.
"Ahhhhh! You OLD HAG! STOOOOP!" Kon screeched in pain, still managing to insult her through his tears. Clearly, the lesson had not yet been learned.
With literal fire now burning in her golden eyes, Yako pulled out a length of rope from who-knows-where. In a flash of terrifying speed, she expertly tied Kon up in a humiliating turtle-shell knot and strung him upside down from the ceiling. Then, pulling a leather whip out of thin air, she started ruthlessly smacking the little fox's bottom.
"You rebellious son!" SNAP! The whip cracked sharply.
"Ouch!" Kon screamed.
"Rebellious son!" SNAP! The whip cracked again.
"OUCH!"
This incredibly one-sided beating went on for several minutes. Ren merely stood off to the side, watching awkwardly, unsure of how to interrupt this unique form of 'mother-and-son bonding.'
Finally, Kon couldn't take it anymore and surrendered completely. "AH! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't call you that again! I'm sorry!" the little fox wept bitterly, swaying from the ceiling.
Faced with his mother's absolute, tyrannical power, the poor fox simply couldn't win.
Knock! Knock! Suddenly, a series of sharp, firm raps echoed from the front door of the Mizuki estate.
"Who is it?" Ren called out. Being the only remotely normal resident currently functioning in the house, the young boy quickly jogged to the entryway and slid the door open.
"You must be Ritsuzen-dono."
Standing on the porch was a towering Tengu. He possessed a tall, lean build, wrapped in weathered, traditional robes with loose black feathers clinging to the sleeves and collar. Behind him, two massive, raven-black wings were neatly folded against his back. His face was sharp and distinctly avian, featuring the iconic, long crimson nose of his species, which gave him the intimidating air of a stern, unyielding judge. Strapped securely to his waist was a long tachi sword resting in a sleek black sheath decorated with gold accents.
"You are...?" Ren asked, genuinely surprised to see such an imposing Yokai appearing at his front door so early in the morning.
"Yasaka-sama has sent me to instruct you in the art of swordsmanship, Ritsuzen-dono," the Tengu replied politely, his voice deep and resonant. "My name is Kōrōbō," he introduced himself, offering a crisp, respectful bow.
"Ah. My name is Ritsuzen Ren, you can call me Ren" the six-year-old replied and immediately reciprocated, executing a flawless, deeply polite bow of his own.
"Is Ren-dono currently free to begin?" Kōrōbō asked. His sharp, avian eyes flicked past the boy's shoulder, drawn by the loud, chaotic noises echoing from deeper inside the house.
However, the very second the Tengu's gaze landed on the woman in the background, who was currently holding a whip at a crying fox strung up from the ceiling in a turtle-shell knot, his stern face paled significantly.
Instantly snapping to rigid attention, the previously unyielding sword master swallowed hard. "I... I will be waiting for Ren-dono at the Tenko-jō! That is all!" he announced hurriedly.
Without waiting for a response, the Tengu spun on his heel and power-walked away at record speed, vanishing from Ren's line of sight in the blink of an eye.
"Weird..." Ren muttered, scratching the back of his head. Completely oblivious to the sheer terror Yako inspired in regular Yokai, the six-year-old was left standing in the doorway, genuinely confused by the disciplined warrior's sudden rush.
**********
After finishing a hearty breakfast, Ren announced his new swordsmanship training arrangement with Kōrōbō to a still-exhausted Kon and a very satisfied Yako, then set off for the castle on his own.
Arriving back at the towering gates of the Tenko-jō, Ren was stopped by the exact same Tengu guard from the day before.
"Halt! Who goes there?" the armoured guard questioned with professional sternness, crossing his spear over the entrance.
"Um. I am here to see Kōrōbō-sensei," Ren informed the guard respectfully.
"Captain Kōrōbō?" The Tengu's avian eyes widened slightly in surprise. Looking intently at the small human boy, he gave a crisp, understanding nod. "It seems the captain did mention he was expecting a guest this morning. Follow me."
Without another word, the guard turned and led Ren deep into the palace grounds, guiding him down an entirely unfamiliar, winding path that skirted the outer military edges of the castle.
Soon, they arrived at a massive, open-air training compound. Unlike the serene, moss-covered gardens Ren had seen yesterday, this courtyard was built purely for war. The ground was hard-packed yellow dirt, violently scuffed and indented by thousands of heavy footprints. Along the high stone perimeter stood rows of battered wooden striking dummies, archery targets riddled with holes, and long, heavy weapon racks bristling with spears, glaives, and wooden bokken. The air here was distinctly different, carrying the sharp, gritty scent of kicked-up dust, polished wood, and intense physical labour.
Off to one side of the expansive grounds, a large platoon of Tengu warriors was undergoing rigorous morning drills. Their movements were terrifyingly synchronized, a massive blur of black wings and swinging wooden blades that sliced through the morning air in absolute perfection.
"HOO! HAA!" their voices boomed out together, the disciplined, thunderous battle cries echoing off the high castle walls with every simultaneous strike.
Ren stood at the edge of the hard-packed dirt, his eyes wide as he took in the intensity of the military's might. The air here was heavy with sweat and discipline.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, the six-year-old boy tightened his small fists. Leaving the chaotic warmth of the Mizuki estate behind, Ritsuzen Ren stepped forward into the dust, finally ready to begin his sword training.