A sharp sting pulsed through Akitsu Shouga’s skull.
The moment his eyes fluttered open, he found himself lying in a sea of tall grass. Blades swayed violently in the wind, brushing against his cheeks like restless fingers. Above him stretched an endless blue sky, dotted with drifting white clouds that looked almost painted on.
Akitsu Shouga groaned.
“My head… hurts…”
He sat up slowly, clutching his forehead. His fingers trembled as he scanned the landscape around him. A narrow valley surrounded him—towering cliffs on both sides, the echo of wind swirling between them like distant whispers. Nothing looked familiar.
“Where am I…? How did I end up here?”
The last thing he remembered was—
Nothing.
His thoughts hit a blank wall.
A cold shiver skittered down his back.
Panic pushing through his chest, he stood up. The valley opened up into a dirt path leading toward what looked like a small settlement in the distance—rooftops of wooden houses, thin trails of smoke rising peacefully into the sky.
A village.
He wasted no time. His legs moved before he could think, feet crunching on gravel as he sprinted down the path.
“Is this… a village? But— villages like this… shouldn’t they be from the seventeenth century!?”
He slowed down at the entrance. Wooden fences, worn stones, traditional houses with thatched roofs—everything looked old, rustic, untouched by modernity.
Villagers strolled past him, carrying baskets, chatting, tending to stalls. The air smelled of soil and fresh vegetables. Children ran with wooden toys.
Akitsu stepped forward uncertainly and tapped a man on the shoulder.
“Excuse me… Where am I?”
The man turned—an older villager with rough hands and a friendly look.
“Oh, this is Sunwind Village,” he said. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Akitsu’s mind spiraled.
Sunwind Village…? Never heard of that. Where even is this place? Am I… really in the past?
The villager squinted. “Say, where are you from? I’ve never seen you around. Are you a townsfolk by chance?”
Akitsu forced a laugh.
“No, not really… I actually wanted to ask something—”
But as the words reached his throat, something snapped.
His mind went blank.
Completely.
His eyes widened in horror.
The villager waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? You… look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Akitsu swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know where I am or where I came from.”
The villager frowned. “Did you hit your head? Do you need help?”
“No, I’m fine… don’t worry.” He bowed awkwardly.
“Well, if you say so. Enjoy your stay in our village.” The man walked away.
Akitsu stood frozen as villagers passed him by. He clutched his chest.
I don’t remember anything. Not my home. Not my family. Nothing but my name…
His breath grew rapid.
“What should I do!? Why can’t I remember anything?! Am I going to die here?! Will I ever see my mother again—my father—anyone!?”
His voice broke, and for a moment he felt the world closing in around him.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder.
He spun around.
A girl stood behind him—around his age, with straight black hair that fell to her shoulders and clear green eyes that contrasted beautifully against the sunlight. Her expression softened when she saw his panicked trembling.
“Um… excuse me,” she said in a quiet voice. “Do you need help?”
Something about her presence calmed him instantly—like a soft breeze had blown away the fear suffocating him.
“Well… I’m kind of lost,” Akitsu admitted. “If you can… help me, I’d appreciate it.”
“Where do you need to go?” she asked. “I can take you there.”
Akitsu hesitated.
“I forgot everything once I got here.”
She blinked. “What do you mean? Did you misplace your belongings? Or are you just lost?”
“No. I mean… everything. I don’t know where I came from, how I got here, what happened before I woke up… nothing.”
“Eh?” She tilted her head. “That sounds serious.”
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“I know it does! But I just… don’t remember.”
She placed her hand at her chest, thinking deeply. Then she nodded.
“Well, if you come with me, my father can help. He can always figure something out.”
She stretched out her hand toward him.
He stared at it—small, delicate, warm.
Then, slowly, he took it.
“Thank you… really. I appreciate your kindness.”
She smiled. “Come on.”
Still holding his hand, the girl guided him down the dirt street. People greeted her warmly as she passed, suggesting she was well-liked in the village.
“Where are we going?” Akitsu asked.
“To my house. Well—our family martial arts dojo.”
“A dojo?” he said, surprised.
“Yes. Father teaches all kinds of techniques. He’s a bit strict, but he’s good. You’ll be fine.”
They reached a tall wooden gate with a faded emblem painted at the center—a roaring hawk surrounded by swirling wind patterns.
The moment he saw the gate, Akitsu froze.
He didn’t know why. His legs simply refused to move. A cold dread slithered through his veins.
Ayame turned, noticing his fear.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Akitsu shook his head, though his voice cracked.
“N-No… nothing happened.”
“Come inside,” she said brightly. “I promise it’s safe.”
He forced himself to breathe and nodded. “Alright.”
Inside, the courtyard opened up into a training ground—wooden dummies, gravel floors, bamboo targets, and hanging lanterns. The dojo itself was simple but carried a dignified atmosphere.
In the center, a man sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, eyes closed, aura calm but heavy—like a mountain.
Ayame called out.
“Father! I brought someone. He’s lost and doesn’t remember anything.”
The man opened his eyes.
“Kurogane Daichi,” she whispered to Akitsu. “My father.”
Kurogane Daichi rose slowly, eyeing the boy with careful interest.
“Who have you brought this time, Hoshizaki?”
Akitsu bowed nervously.
“H-Hello, sir.”
“What’s your name, boy?” Daichi asked, voice deep but not unkind.
“My name is Akitsu Shouga… and I don’t remember anything else about myself.”
Daichi scratched his chin. “Is that so? And why is that?”
“I don’t know. When I woke up, my memory was foggy. It still is.”
Daichi’s eyes narrowed—not suspiciously, but analytically.
“Hmm… judging from your posture and physique, you look like someone from the towns. Or perhaps… the wastelands.”
Akitsu shook his head. “I don’t know. I just woke up on a hill outside the village.”
Daichi crossed his arms.
“How about this,” he said finally. “You may stay here. But in exchange, you will become my disciple. It is a fair trade—and with a body like yours, I’d be a fool to let it go to waste.”
His gaze lingered approvingly on Akitsu’s toned forearms.
Akitsu blinked.
“You’ll let me stay…? If I become your disciple?”
Daichi nodded.
Akitsu bowed deeply.
“Thank you very much! Please accept me as your disciple! I’ll do anything!”
“Oh, I will,” Daichi smirked. “Hoshizaki, lead him to the guest room. Training begins tomorrow at dawn. And boy—”
He pointed at Akitsu.
“Be prepared.”
Akitsu straightened. “Yes, sir!”
Ayame gestured for him to follow.
“This way. I’ll show you to your room.”
They walked down a quiet hall lined with scrolls and practice weapons. At the end, she slid open a wooden door.
“This is the guest room.”
Akitsu bowed again. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll definitely repay this someday.”
Ayame giggled softly.
“It’s fine. You don’t need to repay anything. My job is to find new disciples for Father, anyway.”
“No—I’ll repay it. I won’t feel right if I don’t!”
She smiled gently. “Alright. Then have a good rest.”
She closed the door, leaving him alone in the quiet room.
Akitsu sank to his knees, staring at his hands.
“They’re… really nice people,” he murmured.
“I wonder… what’ll happen to me now…”
The wind outside brushed gently against the paper screen.

