Walking was hard, and running was nearly impossible, but he pushed himself. After just fifteen minutes, his lungs burned with every breath, and his legs felt like lead. Sweat poured from his body, soaking his clothes and stinging his eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a reminder of how out of shape he was.
[This brings back so many bad memories!] he thought, grimacing as he forced himself to keep moving.
Can't stop! Can't stop!
Droplets of sweat dripped from his head, tracing lines down his face. His clothes clung to his body, heavy and uncomfortable, but he didn't stop.
"The eye of the tiger…!" Nikolas kept singing to motivate himself.
"Don't give up! Sting like a bee!" He urged himself on, his voice hoarse from the effort.
After another grueling fifteen minutes of trying not to collapse, he finally reached the dojo.
It was a small wooden house, beautifully decorated with white flowers and a large Tao symbol above the main entrance. The dojo seemed to blend seamlessly with the nature around it. The serene scenery exuded a peaceful feeling, and even the air felt cleaner. Under the symbol, a wooden katana with the name Yuemura engraved on it hung prominently.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, he straightened up and stepped into the dojo, ready to face whatever came next.
********
As he stepped inside, Nikolas felt a wave of nostalgia and peace wash over him. The familiar scent of incense and polished wood greeted him. The dojo, with its simple elegance, was a stark contrast to the chaotic future he had left behind. Tatami mats covered the floor, and traditional weapons were displayed on the walls. It was as if he had stepped into a different world.
The dojo was way more beautiful than what he remembered, the tatami was no longer stained by blood marks and the wall showed no cracks and signs of battles. Even so, he felt a wave of nostalgia hit him.
He soon noticed three young men sitting in the lotus position with their eyes closed. In front of them was an elderly man, seated in the same way, but with a wooden sword in his lap. He had a slender figure under a worn black robe, and his long white hair was tied back in a traditional samurai style, adding to his dignified and serene appearance—he was his former master, Yuemura.
A small smile found its way to Nikolas's lips as he saw the serene master. Yet, it immediately disappeared as he noticed a significant discrepancy on Yuemura's face. The face he knew so well, the face that had guided him through countless battles, had always borne a large scar over the left eye.
Now however, the only things marking his face were the wrinkles of age. The sight of his unmarred face stirred a whirlwind of thoughts in Nikolas.
[So that happened after the apocalypse?] He pondered, realizing that the scar must have been a result of the horrors yet to come. At that moment, some pieces started to fall into place in his mind. The scar, the hardened demeanor, the slight limp he would develop—all of it must have been consequences of something really bad at the start of the disaster.
Nikolas got no known Yuemura after the first year of the first spawn. Seeing his master without the scar, with a calm and unblemished visage, brought a mix of emotions. Relief that his master had not yet suffered those injuries, and determination to prevent such things from happening if he could.
Ignoring those thoughts for a moment, the fatty man once the Dragon King, focused at the dojo in front. The atmosphere inside was so serene that it could fool anyone but Nikolas.
[That old torturer knows how to hide his true nature, doesn't he?]
Knowing pretty well what would follow, Nikolas called out as respectfully as he could.
"Ahrem… er… I came here to learn the way of the sword, Master!" He clapped his hands together and bowed.
"Get out, boy. This ain't a place for children!" the old man spoke without opening his eyes. His voice was strong and reverberated through the dojo, exuding authority and confidence.
At the same time, the three disciples opened their eyes and looked at him. Nikolas could feel the disdain in their faces.
[You won't scare me, Master… not again!] Nikolas sneered inwardly.
"I won't give up on my goals, Master!" he said, still with his head down.
The old man got up slowly, his movements precise and controlled, and looked at him with tiger-like brown eyes that seemed to pierce through his very soul.
Nikolas knew that Yuemura was analyzing him as always. His face showed a bit of disgust, almost the same as when he saved the boy's life last time.
[I even missed that!]
"You?" Yuemura said in a harsh tone. "I don't know what kind of movies you've watched, boy, but I must warn you: we don't wave our swords in flashy moves like that!"
"I'm aware, but I still want to learn the way of the sword, Sensei!" Nikolas said respectfully.
"Hmm… there are no anime things either, just simple yet precise strikes to eliminate your enemy." The man stretched his white hair.
[There are no anime things… yet!] Nikolas corrected him in his thoughts.
Master Yuemura continued to scrutinize him, then let out a sigh. "Very well, if you insist, I will give you a chance. But know this: the path of the sword is not for the weak or the lazy. It requires discipline, strength, and an unwavering will. Do you possess these qualities?"
Nikolas nodded firmly. "I do, Master. I will prove it to you."
"I'll do my best to learn the way of the sword!" he pledged. At the same time an idea began to take shape inside his mind, a way to get Yuemura on his side. Perhaps to tell him the truth.
The old man's eyes softened slightly, but his voice remained stern. "Then prepare yourself. Your training begins now, and it will be the hardest thing you've ever done."
Giving a light smile Nikolas walked forward to grab the wooden sword, Yuemura however, immediately interrupted. "Hold your horses! You'll only touch a sword once you are completely in control of your body."
"Yes, sensei!" The young man could only comply.
"That means a ton of intense training for you! You must first learn how to breathe, then how to walk and how to fall before unveiling how to thrust and kill!"
[Aaaand that is when my torture begins!] Nikolas couldn't help but think as he saw Yuemura's devilish smile.
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he came here exactly for that reason anyway.
*********
The time seemed to pass differently when you were fighting hard to not get knocked out. Nikolas spent hours training Aikido (which could also be called being a punching bag for Yuemura and his disciples) and running to build up musculature and lose weight.
After hours of harsh training, they would meditate for half an hour to rest. Despite his past life's mastery, Nikolas found the movements difficult to execute with his current, overweight body. Each strike and stance felt like a monumental task, his muscles burning and his breath coming in ragged gasps. However, his struggle came in handy, helping him convincingly fake being a newbie. His clumsy attempts and heavy breathing masked his true skill, allowing him to blend in as a beginner.
In the end, he even managed to get a compliment from Master Yuemura!
"You're learning faster than I thought…" Yuemura said while looking at him with displeasure.
That was his compliment!
[This can be considered an incredible compliment, trust me!]
Yuemura's disciples also participated in the harsh training. Even though they were already dead when Nikolas first met Yuemura, he clearly remembered their names.
They were: Hiraoka Tadamichi, Sada Suketsune, and Okino Noboru. As his master once told him, they had been under his tutelage for years, even before he came to Brazil.
Though they cast strange glances at the newcomer, they kept their mouths shut so as not to be disrespectful during the sessions with Master Yuemura.
However, Nikolas also tried to analyze their personalities without showing too much enmity. Master Yuemura never talked much about his past when they were together. But based on some assumptions, Nikolas knew that his master had also suffered. The missed scar on his face made him realize that perhaps… Perhaps Yuemura had been betrayed!
His feelings were still turbulent after returning to the past, and he feared that this might just be an illusion. Even so, he controlled his mind and tried to think and act carefully.
[Who could it be!? One of those disciples, maybe?]
Hiraoka Tadamichi was the oldest disciple. He looked to be over thirty with his long black hair tied back like the old samurai style. He apparently was the quietest among them and showed no interest in the newcomer.
Sada Suketsune was the middle one, about the same age as Nikolas and the most talkative of the three.
Okino Noboru, the youngest, was just a little younger than the fatty. It was he who showed clear enmity in his eyes.
Training and watching their every movement, the day passed quickly.
******
The sun was setting on the horizon when Nikolas left the dojo, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The scene was marvelous, but he didn't have the luxury to enjoy it. Every fiber of his muscles burned with pain, and every part of his body ached, even his fingers, which were sore from gripping the kimono. He walked slowly, feeling as if he were carrying a heavy boulder on his back.
"I'm ravenous! I swear I could eat an entire cow myself," he complained, his voice echoing in the quiet evening.
As if to agree with him, his stomach rumbled loudly. "Yeah, I know, buddy, but we have to go on a diet now. Later, I'll let you have a taste of some incredible meat, you'll see," he mumbled to himself, trying to find comfort in his own words.
Thinking about the edible beasts' meat, Nikolas's mind drifted back to the early stages of the apocalypse. There had to be something he could use to his advantage. He racked his brain, trying to recall relevant details, but fatigue clouded his memory. He had been a late bloomer in the apocalypse, spending most of the first year playing a deadly game of hide and seek with the zombies. He had run from danger and avoided people until he met Yuemura.
But for now, he was too tired to remember anything clearly. Closing the front gate, Nikolas headed to the bathroom for a shower. The cold water was a shock to his system, but it helped wash away the exhaustion from his body. As much as he missed hot baths, he knew it was better to get accustomed to the cold now; electricity would become a luxury soon enough.
Refreshed but still aching, Nikolas dried off and dressed in comfortable clothes. He made his way to the kitchen, the smell of dinner making his stomach rumble again. He had a plan, but first, he needed to refuel. The journey ahead was long, and he couldn't afford to waste any time.