The rain fell like curses from the heavens. Heavy, cold drops, slicing Mai's skin like needles. The water streaming down her face couldn't wash away the blood on her neck. It had become part of her, like the scar carved inside her heart.
She hadn't eaten in three days. She hadn't truly slept since Gigel shattered her world. But something inside her refused to snap. Something new.
The mountain rose like a jagged tooth from the earth. Sharp rocks, twisted trees, fog that didn't shift even when the wind howled.
Mai stopped. Her breathing was heavy, but steady. This place felt dead. Only silence. Damn silence.
And then she saw him.
Sitting by a small fire between charred stumps, a man, dressed like a local drifter — worn linen pants, a shirt torn at the shoulder, old sandals. He looked young for his age. He puffed calmly from a dark wooden pipe, as if the world around him didn't exist.
He didn't lift his head when he said, "Took you long enough to get here."
Mai froze."Who are you?" she rasped.
He finally looked up. His gaze was a blade. Not eyes — knives."Michael Kate. And before you ask — no, I'm not here to fix your mistakes."
"My mother sent me," she tried to sound firm.
He chuckled, dry as sandpaper."Your mother's dead. She didn't send you. You came. On your own feet. With a power you don't understand. That's a choice. Not a mission."
Mai bit her tongue. He went back to puffing his pipe.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Mai didn't move. The wind hammered her, but she stayed.
"Got a name, kid?" he asked finally.
"Mai."
"Pretty name. Meaningless. Just like you right now."
"If you're such a master, teach me. I won't die like my mother."
He laughed. Not kindly. Like a man who had heard it all before.
"She didn't die because she wasn't strong. She died because she kept fighting even when her body betrayed her. Passion has limits."
"Then teach me to break those limits."
He stared at her. A long moment. Then he stood. Tall. Broad. Tired like the mountain itself — but carrying the silent presence of a beast.
"Fine. If you want to learn — survive the night."
"What does that mean?"
"It means from now on, I don't treat you like someone who came asking for help. You're here to prove you're alive. Tomorrow morning, I'll check."
He disappeared into a half-ruined shack. No offer of shelter.
She stayed outside. In the storm. Cold. Hungry. Alone. But she didn't move.
When the sun rose, she was still there. Sitting like a stone. Frozen. Shivering. Alive.
Michael stepped out, coffee in hand.
"Thought you'd be dead."
"I don't die that easily."
"Good. Strip."
"What?!"
"Don't worry, I'm not touching you. But if you're too proud to be humiliated, you're not ready for shit. Fight, pain, dirt, humiliation — welcome to the life of a fighter. Now get in that river and stop whining."
And so, training began.
No mercy. No kind words.
He threw her to the ground. She hit, vomited, and bled. But every time she fell, she stood back up. Silent. Unapologetic.
The red rose inside her burned hotter every day.
But Michael never let her forget: "Power isn't why you'll survive. Power is what'll kill you — if you don't control it."
"Then teach me control."
"Only if you stop trying to be your mother. She was a warrior. You? You're just a broken kid."
"Then turn me into something else."
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
"Maybe there's more to you than there looks. Maybe."
By the end of the first week, Mai stopped dreaming about her mother.
Not because she forgot.
Because there was simply no space left inside her.
Every inch of her screamed.
Every thought was a technique, a movement, a reaction.
She had become a fist.
And the world — just an enemy waiting to strike.
One night, sitting alone by the fire, Michael spoke:
"There are three other flowers. One belongs to the bastard who killed your mother."
"I know."
"And the others?"
"I'll find them. I'll crush them. If I have to — I'll kill them too."
He looked at her. For a moment, a faint spark of something almost human crossed his face.
"Good. Just remember — once you walk this road, there's no way back. You won't be Mai anymore."
She smiled. A broken, red smile.
"Mai's dead. I just haven't buried her yet."