The morning after the date with Astraea, I stood in the quiet backyard, barefoot on the dewy grass, the morning sun painting golden warmth across my skin. But inside, a decision had crystallized overnight. A desire I had buried for too long.
I wanted to master every martial art and fighting technique known to humanity.
Not for spectacle. Not to show off. But to know what every warrior across every age had felt when they fought for something—honor, love, survival, or peace.
I wanted to feel that struggle. That rhythm. That limit.
Even if I had no equals.
Even if no one could truly harm me anymore.
I still wanted to learn.
Talking to My Parents
At breakfast, I laid the idea bare. My parents were already seated at the dining table, poring over news on their devices and sipping morning tea.
"I want to dedicate a few years to intensive martial training," I said, voice calm, eyes steady.
My father looked up, brow furrowing. "Martial arts? As in... karate? Taekwondo? Boxing?"
"All of them," I replied.
My mother blinked. "Ren, that's not exactly a hobby. That sounds like a full-life commitment. What brought this on?"
I shrugged slightly. "I've always had interest. But I want to take it seriously now. Learn from the best. One by one. Style by style. Understand them not as sports, but as philosophies."
My father set down his mug. "You do realize this isn't something people just decide casually. Some of these forms take decades to master."
"I don't need to master them to impress anyone. I just need to walk through them. To absorb what I can. Fully."
My mother looked at me a long moment. "You've always been intense when you set your mind on something. But this is... different."
"I know."
"Will you still continue your studies?"
"Yes. This won't interfere with school."
They exchanged a glance.
"And you're sure this isn't about something else?" my father asked.
I smiled faintly. "Everything I do is about something else. But I still mean it."
Airi Finds Out
Later that day, after school, Airi waited for me at the front gate, her smile bright as ever.
"Walk home with me?"
"Of course," I replied.
We walked a few minutes in silence, the wind playing with the edges of her skirt. Then, almost too casually, I said, "I'm going to start martial arts training."
She stopped mid-step.
"What?"
"I want to learn everything. From modern sports to ancient techniques. Fencing. Judo. Sambo. Kenjutsu. Muay Thai. Capoeira. Even Silat."
She stared at me like I'd told her I planned to jump off a building.
"You could get hurt, Ren! You're not some superhuman—you bruise, you bleed—"
I turned to her fully. "I won't get hurt. I promise."
She frowned. "That's not something you can promise. Do you even understand what full-contact martial training involves?"
I stepped closer. "I do. I've studied them already. But watching isn't the same as living it. Feeling it."
"Is this because of what happened yesterday? Is this some weird guilt thing? Or are you trying to punish yourself for something?"
I shook my head. "It has nothing to do with yesterday. It has everything to do with what I haven't faced yet."
Airi's voice softened. "Then let me support you. Just... be careful. Please. I don't want to see you come home bleeding."
I touched her hand gently. "You won't. I won't let you worry. I'll train smart. Safe. But I have to do this."
She nodded reluctantly. "Then at least let me cheer for you. And if you get hurt... you better let me be the one to patch you up."
I smiled. "Deal."
The Journey Begins
That night, I opened my digital terminal, accessing databases across every country—training schools, dojos, masters, elite warriors both modern and old-school. I reached out with anonymous inquiries and masked credentials.
I didn't need attention. I needed authenticity.
I marked the first on the list: an old koryū kenjutsu master in Kyoto who hadn't taken a student in ten years.
Tomorrow, I would begin with the sword.
Not as a king.
Not as a god.
But as a student.
And I would bow before every blade that taught me.