And with that, I decide to give it a shot.

Later that day, as the sun begins to descend, I venture outside and search for my Father.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass that hangs in the air.

I find him practicing his swordsmanship in the backyard.

Watching him, I can't help but be amazed by his skill.

As I watch my father, Senji, refine his swordsmanship in the backyard, I'm entranced by his smooth and precise movements. His lean frame, clad in a dark trench coat with a crimson sash, radiates an aura of mystery and danger.

Senji shifts his stance, his body moving like water, smooth and uninterrupted. The sword cuts through the air with a whisper, each strike a testament to his control and skill. His feet glide across the ground, barely disturbing the grass beneath them.

But it's his technique that truly captivates me.

Each swing of the tachi seems to flow effortlessly from his body, as if it's an extension of himself.

"That's incredible!" I gasp, truly dumbfounded.

Hearing my voice, Senji pauses his practice and looks over at me.

Ah.

He noticed me!

For a moment, he says nothing, his piercing red eyes studying me, before speaking.

"I see you've been paying attention." Senji says, his deep, steady voice carries a weight that commands respect.

"Yes. Your technique is fascinating, Father," I reply, my own voice surprisingly clear and confident.

Despite that, it's not the same style my grandpa used in my world, there's definitely something familiar about it.

It seems like a blend of two different sword arts,

...Which I don't recognize.

"Do you practice that sword art often?" I ask, curious and admiring.

"Care to try?"

...?

I hesitate, then nod tentatively.

He lands me the sword in his hand, but▬▬it's just too heavy!

I can't even lift it!

My small arms tremble as I struggle to hold the sword up.

I stumble, almost dropping the weapon, before finally regaining my balance.

Senji's expression remains unchanged, his crimson eyes almost hypnotic as he watches me.

"That sword is too heavy for you," Senji states simply.

I feel embarrassed, as if I've failed in some way.

I'm disappointed in myself.

The sword's tip hits the ground with a soft thud.

Senji glances down at the sword.

"I have a lighter sword for you to practice with. Wait here."

Senji leaves and returns with another sword.

"Use this one, it's lighter." Senji hands me the other sword.

This one is just my size!

It's as light as a feather!

"Practice with this for now," Senji says,

As if he has a goal in mind for me.

"Yes, Father," I nod eagerly.

I grab the sword firmly.

It feels like I was born to hold it.

No‒‒That's not right.

I've held swords like this before!

Senji steps back to watch me.

I swing the sword around, feeling the power of it coursing through my body. It's exhilarating!

I'm glad I can still use what I learned in my past life.

"Like this?" I ask, excitement filling my voice.

I grip the lighter sword with both hands, swinging it fluidly.

Senji stands nearby, scrutinizing my movements.

Maybe I shouldn't show off too much...

After all, I'm from another world...

"Your movement is... decent," Senji says, his voice steady and measured.

"You have a natural aptitude for the sword."

He pauses, his piercing red eyes narrowing as he studies me more intently.

"It's almost like you were born for this."

He takes a step closer, his expression serious.

"No, that's not quite right. It's as if you've done this before, in another life."

His words make me freeze, a chill running down my spine.

Ah! He can read my mind?

No...

How does he know?

I take a step back, my heart racing wildly in my chest.

"...Is there... something wrong, Father?"

My instincts are screaming at me to be cautious.

"No, Kyouko. But your talent... it's special. It needs to be tested." Senji says.

"Tested?"

"Let's see how you fare against a real opponent."

Senji flicks his wrist, smoothly rotating as his sword traces a clean arc through the air. He settles into an aggressive stance, leaning forward as he shifts his center of gravity toward me. His left arm extends, pointing directly at me in a menacing gesture.

The sword in his right hand is held low and ready, prepared for a swift upward or forward strike. His feet are planted apart, forming a solid base for offense and defense alike.

My heart pounds in my chest, a relentless drumbeat echoing in my ears. Sweat trickles down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I blink it away, unwilling to let it distract me.

My breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, and my muscles burn with exertion.

My father is serious! Is he really going to attack me?

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. I remind myself that this is my father, and he's not going to hurt me.

But still...

▬▬▬He's dangerous.

It's not just his demeanor that unsettles me.

It's his unrelenting focus, his sheer intensity that radiates from him.

An intensity that can't be replicated by any mere human.

I can see it in his eyes—that sharp glint, like he's hunting prey.

His entire being exudes menace, a silent warning not to underestimate him.

Yet, in this moment, all that matters is proving myself to him.

My resolve grows.

I must show him what I'm capable of!

I grip my sword more tightly, bracing myself for the challenge.

I adopt the Waki-Gamae stance, just like I learned from my Grandpa.

He looks at me, his eyes narrowing.

Then, without warning, he moves.

So fast!

He lunges at me with lightning speed, his sword tip aiming straight for my throat. I instinctively parry, and our swords clash, the sharp ring of metal on metal filling the air.

The impact sends a shiver through my arm.

I grit my teeth, pushing against his blade, but it's like trying to move a mountain. The force of the strike pushes me slightly backward, but I manage to keep my footing.

I was... almost hit!

How fast!

...Is that how a real fight goes?

"Not bad for a first attempt, but you still need a lot of work."

...Not bad for a first attempt?

You can say that again!

I almost died!

I gulp nervously, still shaken by the experience.

"Father... Please!"

I gasp, struggling to breathe.

"Aren't you being too hard on me? I'm only a child." I say, fear and anxiety surging.

I feel vulnerable and exposed under my father's gaze.

The intensity of his gaze is almost suffocating, leaving me with nowhere to hide.

But I'm still standing.

Senji doesn't respond immediately.

"You're not taking this seriously." Senji says.

That's...?

"I don't understand."

"This is the real world, Kyouko. You need to be serious and determined."

Senji seems serious about this.

"...Kyouko. I know you're not trying your hardest," Senji says, his eyes focused on me.

I blink in surprise.

"How do you know?"

"If you really wanted to do better, you would."

"Above all, you haven't let go of your sword." Senji's expression hardens.

He grabs the handle with both hands.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, ashamed that my father thinks I'm not trying hard enough.

"If you're sorry, then why haven't you let go of your sword?"

I glance at my sword in my hands.

I've been holding it so tightly, gripping the handle like it was a lifeline.

...I didn't even notice!

...!

"That's it, Kyouko."

"You're letting your fear control you."

Senji's words cut through my confusion and self-doubt, landing a hard truth in my heart.

Fear.

That won't do!

...!

Senji is right. I can't let fear control me. I grip my sword, not with desperation, but with determination.

I plant my feet firmly on the ground, bend my knees slightly, and focus my gaze on Senji. I am small, but I am not weak.

My grandpa said,

"Don't fear your opponents. If you let fear control you, you'll lose before you even begin to fight."

He also said,

"Don't fight out of anger or hate. Anger and hate are blind. They'll lead you to make foolish mistakes."

I grip my sword with determination, and as I raise it, I feel my fear gradually slipping away.

Senji lunges again, his sword a silver blur as it cuts through the air. But this time, I'm ready.

I sidestep quickly, feeling the wind of his blade as it narrowly misses me. I counter with a swift strike, aiming for his side. He parries easily, but I see a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Better,"

I don't let it go to my head. I know I'm still far from matching his skill. But I'm not trying to beat him. I'm trying to prove myself, to show him that I can stand my ground.

He comes at me again, a flurry of strikes that push me to the limit. I block, dodge, parry, my small body moving instinctively.

I can feel the rhythm of the fight, the dance of steel against steel. It's exhilarating, terrifying, and I'm completely absorbed in it.

At some point, I stop thinking.

With Senji, I'm locked in a deadly dance of strategy and precision.

I see an opening and take it, my sword darting in like a striking snake. Senji deflects it at the last moment, but I'm not discouraged. I press my advantage, pushing him back with a series of quick strikes.

He's on the defensive now, and I can see the focus in his eyes. He's not underestimating me anymore.

For a moment, everything goes blank.

But he's still far more skilled than I am. He catches my blade in a bind, twists his wrist, and sends my sword spinning out of my hand. I'm disarmed, vulnerable, but I don't panic.

I drop to the ground, roll, and come up with a handful of dirt, tossing it into his face.

He blinks, momentarily blinded, and I use the opportunity to retrieve my sword. I'm panting, sweat dripping down my face, but I'm smiling.

I did it! I held my own against my father, the formidable swordsman.

Senji wipes the dirt from his face, his eyes meeting mine. And then, he does something I never expected. He smiles. It's a small, barely noticeable smile, but it's there.

"You've done well, Kyouko,"

"You've shown me your determination. That's enough for today."

I stand there, chest heaving, a grin spreading across my face. I did it. I proved myself!

And in that moment, I feel like I've truly earned my place as Senji's daughter.

▬▬I start falling backwards, my limbs flailing as I struggle to regain my balance.

But▬▬Before I know it, he's there.

With lightning-fast reflexes that seem almost supernatural, Senji catches me with one strong arm, effortlessly preventing me from hitting the ground. There's a strange sensation, like a subtle pulse of energy, as his hand grips my arm.

"Be careful. That was a bit reckless," Senji says, his voice calm but firm.

I look up at him, surprised.

I try to talk but my mind goes blank.

I... What did I just do?

After some time, I look at Senji with a sense of wonder.

"...Do you hate me?" I ask quietly.

Senji looks at me for a moment, his piercing eyes searching mine.

"Why would you ask such a thing?"

"I mean... I'm from another world..."

"It doesn't matter where you come from, Kyouko. You're my daughter,"

I blink, not expecting such a straightforward answer.

"I just... It's just... I..."

"It's okay, Kyouko. I'm not angry. Just... Don't be reckless."

"You really... think that?"

"That's right. Don't worry about where you come from. You're my daughter now. That's all that matters." Senji's expression softens, but his eyes remain unwavering.

"Your not going ask?" I ask, feeling a bit confused.

"Ask what? About your past life? It's not something we can change or control. What matters is who you are now, and who you choose to become. That's enough for me."

Senji places a hand on my head, his fingers gently threading through my long, white hair.

"You're part of our family. That's all that matters."

He says it like he's the one who needs to be reminded of it.

I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand on my head.

And I feel...

A sense of relief wash over me.

I snuggle into him, feeling his strong arms around me.

"Kyouko, you're shaking," Senji says, concern in his voice.

"...I'm... just... happy. You won't leave me? I'm glad... That I'm here... With you." I say, tears welling up in my eyes.