Spring mornings were alive with a chorus of sounds: the cheerful singing of birds, the gentle rustling of leaves as the wind passed through, the soft buzzing of bees, and countless other melodies of nature. Yet on this particular morning, one sound disrupted the sanctity of that harmony.
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
It was loud. It was repetitive. And most of all, it was annoying.
Inside the house, Ujiyuki groaned in irritation as the noise pierced through his futon's comforting embrace. "Errgghh…" His voice was heavy with sleep and frustration. "Who the hell is doing that at this hour?" he muttered to himself, struggling to peel away from the warm cocoon of his bedding.
Still half-asleep, he rummaged through a pile of clothes until he found a purple kimono and threw it on. With heavy yawns and lazy stretches, he shuffled toward the entrance of his home.
And there he found the culprit.
Behold—shirtless, silver-haired, average in height but with a body slightly above average in build—Sentarō. His skin gleamed with sweat as he swung an axe rhythmically, chopping through thick logs with force. The large pile of neatly stacked wood beside him proved that he had been at this task for a while.
Sentarō noticed Ujiyuki and greeted him with a wide grin. "Good morning, Mr. Ujiyuki!"
Ujiyuki blinked, rubbed his temple, and let his irritation rise with each second. "Hey, kid… I know I said you're old enough to chop wood now." He drew in a deep breath, then bellowed, "BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD DO IT AT THE CRACK OF DAWN!!"
Sentarō couldn't help himself—he burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter. "Hahahahahahaha! I'm sorry, Mr. Ujiyuki. No need to worry, I'm almost done!" He wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling.
Ujiyuki muttered under his breath. "You damn kid…" Yet, instead of walking away, he stayed and observed. His eyes traced the boy's movements, lingering on the definition of his muscles. Clearly, Sentarō's training was showing results.
"Hey, kid," Ujiyuki called out, trying to start a conversation. "Your training must be going well, huh?"
Sentarō finally split the last log and leaned the axe aside. He turned to face Ujiyuki, still smiling. "Yeah, I'm almost finished with everything in the book. Just a few pages left, heheh."
Ujiyuki blinked, shocked. "Wait… you're not even finished? That's too damn slow, kid." His expression twisted into disappointment, though he quickly sighed and shifted back to his usual indifference.
"You've been at it for five years now. You should've finished by now, Sentarō."
The name slipped out casually, but its weight hung in the air. Though rare, every time Ujiyuki addressed him by name, it carried a strange gravity. Neither of them commented on it.
Sentarō scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "Actually, the pages left aren't much. I could finish them in four months if I trained really hard."
Ujiyuki's gaze sharpened. "So that means you don't plan on taking this year's police force entrance exams?"
Sentarō froze. He stared at Ujiyuki, searching for seriousness, but all he saw was that same indifferent face. Still, the words shook him. "Wait… what do you mean?"
Now it was Ujiyuki's turn to look confused. "Do you not know when the police force entrance exams are starting?"
Their conversation tangled into a mess of questions until realization struck Sentarō. He dashed toward Ujiyuki, panic in his wide eyes. "Mr. Ujiyuki, what are you trying to tell me?"
Ujiyuki crossed his arms, his voice firm. "Look, kid, if you plan on taking this year's entrance exams, then you don't have much time to finish that book."
The words hit like a hammer. Sentarō clutched his head, eyes watery, body trembling. "Ehh, Mr. Ujiyuki… What exam are you talking about?"
Silence fell. The stillness was suffocating.
Ujiyuki's face darkened until it twisted into pure rage. Then, with a swift motion—SMACK!—his hand landed across Sentarō's face.
"YOU IDIOT!!"
Sentarō stumbled back, clutching his stinging cheek. "Ow… Mr. Ujiyuki!"
Ujiyuki's anger boiled over. "If you don't even know about the police force, how do you expect to join their ranks?"
Sentarō gave an awkward laugh, scratching his temple to hide his shame. "I thought all I needed to do was train… guess I was wrong, heheh."
Ujiyuki shook his head, sighing. "You're completely clueless, kid. Looks like I need to fill you in." He gestured toward the house. "Let's talk inside."
They moved to the main room, where Sentarō brought two cups of green tea. Over the years, both had grown fond of the drink. Ujiyuki took a sip, then set his cup down. Sentarō left his untouched, focusing instead on his mentor's words.
Ujiyuki's tone turned serious. "Alright, kid. You clearly don't know how the police force works, so listen carefully."
Sentarō leaned in, face glowing with anticipation. For him, this was another step into the true ways of the samurai.
"The police force is an organization with its own strict codes," Ujiyuki explained, his eyes locked onto Sentarō's. "One of those codes lies in their recruitment. They don't just pick anyone—they hold something called the entrance exams."
"Entrance exams?" Sentarō asked, confused, though his eyes sparkled with excitement.
Ujiyuki nodded. "Yeah. That's how the police force recruits new samurai into their ranks." His lips curled into a faint smile, proud of how he had managed to explain it simply enough for Sentarō to understand.
"That's super cool, Mr. Ujiyuki! But… how does that affect my training?"
Ujiyuki pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in frustration. "You idiot. You don't know so I'm gonna tell you. The entrance exams are in two weeks."
The room fell utterly silent. The very air seemed to ring with tension.
Sentarō began to sweat, his body trembling like a boiling kettle about to burst. In all his sheltered life, he had never known nerves like this.