Morning came fast. Kikimura hadn't slept well. His dreams were full of a grassland and eyes watching him from the shadows. Voices asked him questions. He couldn't answer them.
The sun shone through the window again. It was clean and bright.
Kikimura sat up slowly. His ribs still hurt. It was a different kind of hurt now. It was the kind that meant he was healing.
Someone left water and clean clothes on the small table beside his bed. Probably the granddaughter. She must have been kind to do that.
Kikimura washed his face with water. It made him gasp. It felt good. Real. He dressed carefully. The clothes fit well. They were simple but well-made. Nothing fancy. Just useful, like everything in the house. He liked that.
He heard sounds from elsewhere in the house. Footsteps. Pots clinking. Someone moving with a purpose. Then there was a knock on the door. It wasn't polite. It wasn't gentle. Just a knock.
"You're awake?" a voice said from outside. It was the old man's voice. His voice was old, not weak. Old. The kind of voice that had spoken to people and got tired of waiting for responses.
"Yes", Kikimura called out.
The door opened. The old man was exactly as Kikimura remembered from the chaos of yesterday. Tall. Dark beard, streaked with grey. Eyes that seemed to look through him, not at him.
"Good ", the old man said. He walked into the room with confidence. "You can walk without help?"
"Yes ", Kikimura said.
"Come then. We'll have breakfast. Then we talk." It wasn't an invitation. It was a statement.
The old man walked out. Kikimura followed him. He had no choice.
The kitchen was warm. The granddaughter was there stirring something in a pot. It smelled of herbs, vegetables, something like broth. She didn't look up when they entered.
The old man sat at the table. He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."
Kikimura sat. The old man watched him for a moment. Not speaking. Just looking. Assessing.
"I want to know your name ", the old man said finally. "Your real name. Not what the village called you."
"Kikimura ", Kikimura said. "My father named me Kikimura."
Kikimura seemed confused. Why did he ask him about his name again when he already responded the other day?
"Good. That's a name, at. Not a curse." The old man leaned back in his chair. "I want to know where you came from."
"A village in the mountains ", Kikimura said. "Small village. Not important."
"Why were you in the forest?" This was the question. Kikimura knew it would come.
"Because I had nothing left there. My father died, he was my only one left," Kikimura said quietly.
"How about the villagers?" The old man asked.
"They said I was cursed. They said I brought bad luck. " Kikimura said.
The granddaughter stopped stirring. Kikimura didn't look at her. He could feel her attention on him.
The old man nodded slowly. "What did you do? To make them think you were cursed?"
"Nothing ", Kikimura said. "I killed my mother when I was born. Someone started saying I was cursed.. It spread. Like a disease."
"I was born weak. I couldn't do the work that other children could do. I failed the test at the academy. They said I had no potential."
"Magic test?" The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. "You attended an academy?"
"For a year ", Kikimura said. "Before they expelled me. I couldn't sense magic. I couldn't channel ki. I was useless."
The old man made a sound. Not quite a laugh. Something like it. "So they treated you badly just because of that?"
Kikimura didn't answer. It sounded worse when the old man said it like that.
"Your village was full of fools ", the old man said flatly. "All of them. Especially the ones running the academy."
The granddaughter brought food to the table. Bread, cheese, fish, and vegetables. She set it down carefully, still not making eye contact with Kikimura.
"Eat ", the old man said. He was already making movements, quick like eating was just a task to complete.
Kikimura ate. The food was good. Better than anything he'd had in the village.
"Let me make things clear", the old man said between mouthfuls. "First."
He paused. Set down his spoon.
"When the beast attacked you the other day." The man's eyes were steady on Kikimura's face. "You stood against him. You didn't run. You didn't beg. You just stood there. Tried to help someone you didn't know."
Kikimura didn't know what to say to this.
"That showed character ", the old man continued. "That's not an act of someone weak. That's why I brought you here".
Kikimura felt something in his chest. Like the ground had shifted beneath him.
"You can continue recovering here. My granddaughter will make sure you're fed, and your wounds are tended. I want to be clear about something." The man's voice was sharp now. Not angry, Certain. "You can leave after you recover. I won't keep you. You'll have supplies. Food, clothes, a direction. Then you go. You make your way in the world."
Kikimura felt his hope dissolve into nothing.
"Unless ", the old man continued, "you're willing to stay. To work. To train. To push yourself past the limits your village told you were real."
He walked toward the doorway and paused there.
The granddaughter was still standing, shocked by the stove not moving.
"What is he thinking?" She thought.
"Think about it. When you've recovered enough to walk without pain, we'll see if you're serious. If you're not..." He shrugged. "Then you leave. Simple as that."
The old man left the room after saying those words.
"I'm sorry ", Kikimura said quietly. He didn't know why he was apologising.
"Does he pity him? Or does he see something in him?" The girl was still confused as to why her grandfather was doing this.
She turned to look at him, finally. Her dark eyes were unreadable.
"You should eat ", she said. "You'll need the strength."
"For what?"
"For deciding ", she said. "For choosing whether to stay or go. Grandfather only accepts heartfelt commitment. If you stay, he'll push you harder than you've ever been pushed. He'll demand everything from you."
"And if I leave?"
"Then you leave ", she said simply. "We'll never see you again."
She turned back to the stove.
Kikimura ate the rest of his food in silence. His mind was spinning. The old man. Whoever he was, whatever he was. Had given him a choice. Two paths. One led out into the world, alone and poor. One led into... Something. Something the old man thought was possible. Something he called training.
Potential.
That was the word that stuck with him. It echoed in his head like a question he didn't know how to answer.
Later, Kikimura stood by his window staring out at the grassland.
He had two paths to choose from. Two possible futures.
Back in the village, they probably thought he was dead by now. They would be saying, "Another curse lifted. Another problem solved."
Kikimura was alive. For the time since he entered the forest, he got to decide what being alive meant.
The thing was, it was clear to him what the right path was. It was the ONLY path he could choose.