The morning sun shimmered through the trees, casting long golden beams across the forest floor. The air was crisp, still carrying a hint of night's chill. Birds called gently, and the sound of a blade slicing the wind echoed through the clearing.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni stood alone in the heart of the forest, bare feet pressed against the mossy earth. His katana moved slowly at first—controlled, deliberate. He breathed in sync with the flow of nature, every motion guided by the rhythm of his body and the pulse of the world around him.
He had practiced swordsmanship all his life, but something had begun to change. As he focused deeper, each breath ignited something... different.
His body moved faster, lighter, the air seemed to bend around him. Heat shimmered at the edge of his blade.
Suddenly, light—real and sharp—flashed as his katana sliced through the air, creating a ripple like sunlight bursting through a cloud.
He stopped, panting slightly, looking down at his hands. Steam curled off his shoulders. His breathing, once simple, had grown deeper, fuller. The warmth that coursed through him wasn't fatigue—it was power.
From behind him came a soft voice.
"What... was that just now?"
He turned to see Uta, her eyes wide with quiet awe. She stepped into the clearing slowly, her sandals crunching over twigs.
"I don't know," Yoriichi admitted, looking down at his sword. "It's not something I was taught. My body… it moved on its own. And my breath felt like it carried the heat of the sun."
Uta looked at the blade, then at him. "It was beautiful. Like watching flame dance."
He sheathed his sword gently and turned toward her.
"It didn't feel like a technique. It felt like something old… ancient. As if it didn't come from me."
Uta placed her hand over his chest. "Then maybe it came through you."
Yoriichi blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You're always listening to things no one else hears—wind, fire, the earth. Maybe… this power is their way of speaking back."
He looked away, thoughtful. "If that's true… it must be used to protect, never destroy."
Uta smiled. "Then it's in the right hands."
The sun rose higher through the trees, its golden light painting them both in warmth.
And without realizing it, Yoriichi Tsugikuni had taken the first steps toward the breath that would one day shape history.