Chapter Text
There wasn't much to remember from her old life. She knew she died relatively young, all because her friend didn't see the other car coming which caused them to flip. She was a college student, however, she can't remember what exactly it was she was studying. Lastly, she enjoyed the majority of arts. Drawing, music, writing, and reading. Although in this life, she was unable to read and therefore write, however her love for drawing and music remained the same.
No name. No family. Barely any hobbies. She came in almost as blank of a slate as a baby. Almost.
There were certain things she would remember randomly. Like when a child asked their mother why the sky was blue, she could recall Raleigh scattering. Recall why it was hotter to stand on moist dirt than it was on dry dirt. Why the water warmed and cooled slower than land. What would happen if you were to boil water in a closed jar.
Random things that she had no reason to know.
Large grey eyes observed how the woman tuned the shamisen. Dainty fingers twisting the itomakis, and plucking the strings at the same time. Looking for the perfect pitch. Before the woman could begin her song, a large hand snatched her small wrist and dragged her down the dirt road. Meaty fingers lining up with the bruises on her skeletal wrist and the familiar grumbling and cussing went in one ear and out the other.
Maybe it was because of her memories that she could shrug these words off. Chalk it up to being a terrible parent rather than a terrible child. Chalk it up to bystander effect rather than people just being outright cruel. Watching a grown man, smelling of cheap sake and fermented dirt, harshly drag a child, who barely reached his mid-thigh, around by too thin of an arm. When strangers looked at her, meeting large eyes, they would turn away in pity or shame. Some would even look at her with the same amount of disgust as the man did. They would give him dirtier looks. Looks that had their eyebrows almost touching and noses scrunched.
Little did they know, those looks would further spur the man to spout harsher words when they reached the shack near the river. Harsher words evolved to harsh slaps, harsh hair pulling, and harsh gripping and throwing. Maybe they did know. Maybe, while some were in the bystander effect others were just that cruel.
"Ya' fuckin' stink," The man gritted out. They sat by the water's edge, her knees bent on the mud as the man was squatted next to her. Her hair in a firm grip in his hands, thick fingers burrowing through the knots and mats. Not caring that whenever he tugged her scalp felt as if it was ripping from her skull. She was forced to gaze at herself in the reflection of the water. When the fingers tightened in her hair, she took a deep breath of air and held onto it tightly as water rushed past her face. It got in her ears and the current wanted to steal her breath away. She tried hard not to struggle, registering that the more she struggled the more she would need oxygen. Which meant she would need to breathe. Just before she could lose all the precious oxygen stored in her cheeks, the hand gripping her hair forced her back up out of the water.
She couldn't help but gag as air rushed back in her burning lungs and her vision spotted. Her fringe clinging onto her skin like worms did to the dirt roads after rain. Barely able to grab another deep breath, her head was forced under the water again. This time the force of the cold stream made her gasp and successfully lose all her air. The oxygen came out in bubbles that rushed to the surface, tickling her face as a reminder of what she lost.
Her vision blacking out, and her body now reacting on instinct. Thrashing, kicking, and gripping the wrist that held her head forcefully underwater. Black spots splattered across her vision and she fought the urge to inhale. Which was impossible. Water rushed past her chapped lips, past her teeth, and down her throat. Filling her stomach and nose with silt and ice-cold water that felt more like it she had swallowed fire rather than water.
'I'm gonna die.' She didn't die this early in the past. Maybe it was just fate spitting in her face. Did she do something terrible in her past life that she couldn't remember? Or maybe in another life? If she reincarnated in this life, who was to say her other lives weren't reincarnated either?
"I'll buy her." Blinking at the sky, unaware that she had resurfaced from the water and had thrown it all back up. Her body slowly regaining feeling, but too weak to move. Starting from her toes, she tried to tense her muscles one by one. Slowly regaining feeling and mobility within them.
"She's worthless. Not even the brothels will take her."
"Which is why I will take her off your hands." Fatigued eyes slowly moved to where she could hear talking. The voices which were once jumbled, now sorting themselves. A voice she could recognize, and a voice she couldn't.
A short, older man with a cane held out a wad of cash and coins. He looked like a dwarf next to the other ogreish man, the one who had forcefully grabbed her wrists and held her underwater. The man eyed the cash greedily, yellow teeth pulling back in a broad grin and exposing black gums.
"You're loss, old man." Said old man just hummed and hobbled over to her. He had an interesting scar under his eye, and quite an interesting mustache and eyebrows. It wasn't until he was right next to her that she noticed he had a wooden leg. A peg more to be exact.
'A pirate?' Her old memories supplied her with the classic pirate look. A peg look and an eyepatch. Maybe a hook depending on how cliche the pirate wanted to be.
"What is your name?" His voice crackled, and it had her trying to think of the object that it reminded her of. It was dangerous, laced with an underlying certainty that if he wanted to, he could seriously injure someone. Yet, also youthful. Full of life and no fear of the future.
She stared at him with curiosity, unsure of what to think of this small, old man. Eyes that were once half-lidded are now wide open. To their usual size.
"Yu...uma," She whispered, ignoring the burning in her throat. His slanted eyes narrowed slightly, and she repeated herself, "Yuuma. I am... Yuuma."
"Yuuma, my name is Kuwajima Jigoro. But you can call me Shishou." Yuuma blinked owlishly, registering what he was saying and then nodding.
"Okay, Shishou."
++++
Yuuma stared at the cherry blossoms swaying with the breeze. Waiting for those pink petals to become peaches, which she will gorge on until she gave herself a stomachache. Then, Shishou will yell at her, make her train so that she would throw those peaches back up, and then she'll repeat the cycle.
It's been about two years since she moved in with Shishou, and the man has been kind to her. He gave her a bath on her first night, detangling the mats and knots in her hair and scrubbing her skin clean of all the dirt. Then, a doctor was called for a physical and health check. Ensuring that the water she swallowed wasn't dangerous and that she would be fine. After that, he gave her clothes, a place to sleep, things to eat, and even reading and writing lessons.
"Yuuma! Get over here and practice!" He even gave her a purpose. Instead of being a waste of space like people always told her she was and would forever be, he told her she could be useful. She could help others who couldn't help themselves. People who were too weak to help themselves. People who were powerless.
It would make Shishou proud.
That's what she wanted. To make Shishou proud.
"You will swing that sword until I tell you otherwise. Don't even think of trying to doze off while doing so." It's just too bad that her overall personality was that of a Giant Panda. Preferring to laze around and eat rather than do anything else. She had another goal in mind, and it just sucked that this goal and the first goal don't really go hand in hand.
"Shishou, I want to live up to my name's meaning."
"Your name is spelled in hiragana, there is no meaning."
"I asked one of the shopowners how to spell Yuuma and she wrote it with these two kanjis."
"...This is 'leisure' and 'true.'"
"I want to live a life of true leisure."
"..."
"..."
"Go grab a bokken and don't stop swinging it."
That conversation didn't go well, and Yuuma isn't too sure as to why. Shishou said to find a goal, and having more than one is okay. So why did he get upset?
"Yuuma focus!" The girl snapped back into reality and nodded, practicing the first and only form Shishou has taught her of the Thunder Breathing. When he first demonstrated what he would be teaching, Yuuma realized the object his voice sounded like. Lightning. Powerful and beautiful lightning. The man was going to teach her how to wield lightning like that Nordic God named Thor. She pushed down the strange urge to smash a hammer.
Next to the beauty and power of it, there was another factor that drew her in. The speed. When she first saw the speed of it, it hit her how she could live the life she wanted, 'If I finish things quickly... then I have more time to relax!' Apparently, she voiced that thought out loud because the wooden cane her Shishou uses clapped the back of her head and his screeching filled her ears.
"First form: Hekireki Issen." She unsheathed the blade and raced forward. Her breaths deep and filling her lungs with as much oxygen as she could, and then emptying the organs. Legs now thicker and healthier than two years ago, bent to near perfection as the muscles tightened and released. Shooting her forward. Then quickly stopping. Yuuma could feel the charge of electricity form and release from her. Leaving the ground she was somewhat scorched and there were traces of small lightning bolts still hanging around. Her ears rang from the sound of thunder that occurred when she unsheathed. A side effect of using lightning.
She wasn't insanely fast. Not as fast as Shishou, or other Thunder Breath Users, but Shishou said her reflexes and flexibility were her strong points. Lightning wasn't just fast. Lightning could be flexible, it could be powerful, or simply well-rounded. Shishou explained that he didn't care which category she fell under. As long as she was wielding the breath correctly. She could be the worst Thunder Breath User in history, but as long as her intentions were good, she could wield it and not bring shame on the name.
"Good job, Yuuma." It was all she needed. To continue learning and practicing. She just needed to ensure that Shishou was proud of her.
"...Can I sleep now?" He smacked her across the head. At least this time it was with his hand and not the cane.
++++
Jigoro would be lying if he told anyone Yuuma was a pain. Sure she liked to doze off more than be in the present, but Jigoro was positive that it wasn't air in between her ears. Sometimes it was pure laziness, but other times he could see it. Her thoughts race a thousand miles a minute.
Who was he to be mad at his student for thinking of ways to benefit the Thunder Breathing? He could see it. How she would practice a move numerous times, take daybreak, and then go back to it. Only this time, something would be different. Whether a simple motion would cut out, or something else entirely. There would be something different that allowed her to move faster. To draw quicker. To capitalize on her flexibility.
Not to mention her damn memory. Jigoro had set an easy book down in front of her in the first three days she had been living with him. It was a book that aided in spelling and reading. The basic comprehensions of it all. Something to give to a five-year-old. He had left her with it, expecting her to come and find him when she needed help. If she didn't and she struggled, then he would tell her, 'It's okay to ask for help,' and that whole motivation talk. Jigoro was ready and waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And– screw it!
At 4 pm he decided to check on her. When he slid open the shogi door, she had her head buried in her arms, and next to her was a paper of the hiragana alphabet and words. He couldn't stop the blush on his cheeks when he saw his name on the paper. Poorly written because she didn't know how to use the brush he gave her, and some of the spelling was wrong, but it was only two characters in his last name that was a bit difficult. Other than his name, basic words were spelled, such as dog, cat, river, peach, and even her name.
It was cute. Even if there was the mess she made on the table and her hands. However, that could all be forgiven for when she woke up and eagerly showed him her progress. He pretended like he hadn't just seen it, and nodded when she said the words out loud. There was no smile on her face, but her eyes said it all. Sparkling with pride and closing in happiness when he rubbed her head.
She picked up reading and writing similar to how a scroll catches fire. If she wasn't napping, she was reading. Yuuma had read through the majority of his library, including the majority of the Thunder Breathing scrolls, and when Jigoro began giving her an allowance she would run off to the bookstore and buy one book. Jigoro observed as this nine-year-old replicated a stance in one of the scrolls, almost down to the nearest strand of cloth. Light grey eyes focused on whatever thought was in front of her and repeating the stance again.
Jigoro didn't know if acquiring books either increased the questions in her mind or helped her solve them.
Yet for all the brains she seemed to have, she also lacked some as well.
"Yuuma! Where the hell did ya' go?!"
"I went to the bookstore."
"The bookstore doesn't take 5 hours!" Large grey eyes stared into his aged ones, wide and unblinking as she tried to recall why it took her 5 hours to go to the only bookstore in town which is only a 15-minute walk. Her lack of response made Jigoro huff, a smile on his lips and eyebrows furrowed, "Ya' got lost. Didn'tcha."
"No." The tip of her ears turned red and Jigoro laughed, "Liar! How did ya' get lost?! There's only one left turn!" Yuuma scrunched her nose, clutching the tote bag in her fist, "I did make a left. It wasn't there."
"Where did ya' make the left at?!"
"The dango shop." Silence filled the room. Yuuma shuffled from foot to foot as Jigoro processed what she was saying. Their village didn't have a dango shop on the main road. Which would be the road Yuuma took. No, their dango shop is on a side road and located near the river. The only dango shop on the main road he could think of was– "YA WENT ALL THE WAY TO THE NEXT TOWN?!"
"...I did?"
"How can someone be so directionally challenged?" Jigoro rubbed his temple at the memory. You tell her to go left and she goes diagonal in the opposite direction. It was sometimes amazing to watch. He at first thought she was doing it for one purpose. Because, surely no one was THAT challenged with directions... right?
Well, there is. And their name is Yuuma.
He watched her ask someone where the sweets shop was, and they said to turn right in two blocks. She turned left at the fourth block and then somehow ended up in front of a blacksmith shop. Genuine confusion on her face and panic crossed her eyes as she floundered to try and get back to the road. Jigoro had to hold back a snort as the normally passive and stoic Yuuma flushed red and sweat bullets as she stuttered and tripped over her words to ask for directions. Waving her hands around and mumbling some excuses as to why she was lost, it had Jigoro having to slap a hand over his mouth to bite back his cackling.
It had to be a talent. At least, that is what Jigoro is chalking it up to be. What it had to be. There was no other explanation as to what else it could have been.
"Shishou." Jigoro glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough there she was. Standing in her grey hakama and an undershirt. Said undershirt was a deep blue and hooked around her neck, covered her chest and stomach, and hooked back under the hakama. Leaving her back exposed.
"I'm going to be in the garden."
"Okay." He listened as her footsteps faded and waited for the sound of the shoji door to open. Another quirk of hers was her love of stretching. She went in all these weird poses, that at first didn't look like they did much. However, after trying them out himself, Jigoro couldn't stop himself from implementing a few in his morning routine.
It's probably where she gets her mobility from. A lot of them have to do with balance and core, and when he asked where she learned these, Yuuma shrugged.
"They kinda just come to me you know?" No, he didn't know, but he'll take her word for it. They worked, and he noticed her flexibility, mobility, and stability had increased. Even her breathing has improved tenfold. Therefore, no complaints from him. Not to mention, those stretches got her out of the house and she seemed to enjoy them. For once, her mind looked present, and it seemed to be the time when she can gather most of her thoughts.
So, who was he to deny her something like this?
Jigoro returned to reading the newspaper, listening for anything suspicious. Just in case the runt in his care did something stupid. It would not be the first time, or the second, or the last. Silence reigned over the room for a few minutes. Peaceful, almost. Thunder then echoed throughout the house. Shaking the walls, shoji doors, and floors. It startled Jigoro for a split second, jolting in his seat and crumpling the newspaper.
'Surely, she's back inside.' The thought crossed his mind, and it had him rolling up his newspaper and strode towards the direction he had last heard the shoji door open. Which, was still open. It wasn't raining or anything, which Jigoro didn't mind because thunderstorms can happen without rain. However, if there was thunder then there was lightning.
"Yuuma! Get back in here!" That brat! She was still stretching, ignoring the dark clouds that covered the sky and the very obvious sign of chaos brewing. Yuuma stared at him dead in the eyes, wide light grey eyes meeting narrowed dark eyes. Jigoro could barely comprehend the words that fell out of her mouth, "I am going to be one with lightning." The old man just about burst a vein, "You're gonna get struck and die! Get the hell in here!" He didn't miss the pout that formed on her lips, cheeks puffing out and eyebrows slightly furrowing as she walked inside. Another round of thunder had her jumping out of her skin and sprinting towards the safety of the engawa. Jigoro swatted her head for her stupidity and Yuuma huffed about not finishing her stretches in the garden. After a solid minute of silence, lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the clouds and garden.
She and Jigoro sat on the polished wood, watching the lightning show take place in the sky.
A few days after the lightning storm, Jigoro brought her back out to the field to practice. He made her perform the first kata again, which she accomplished. His nod of approval made her chest light and a small smile appeared on her face.
"Alright Yuuma, you're now going to start practicing the other forms of Thunder Breathing." Yuuma nodded, her face going back to blank but eyes wide and curious. Jigoro huffed in amusement at the look, "It's just like the katas you have been practicing already. Only now, you're going to add that breathing technique to it. The lightning should naturally come with it."
"And if it doesn't?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Don't expect to get it on the first try, it'll take you more than a hundred tries to get even a spark, okay?" Yuuma nodded, getting in position for the second kata.
True to his word, Yuuma did not get it on her first try. Or her second. Or her third. Not her tenth, or fiftieth. It took Yuuma about two weeks before even a spark of lightning appeared. She celebrated by taking a long nap and eating the peaches that were now ripe.
Then, it was back to work. Despite her arms feeling like they were going to pop out of her socket, and her ribs aching from the amount of air and breathing exercises she was doing, Yuuma huffed it off. She will get this down. Then she'll show Shishou, and he will be proud of her.
Shishou will be proud.
Taking a deep breath between her teeth. Letting the air fill her lungs and expand her small chest, she opened her eyes and focused on one point in front of her.
"Second Kata: Inadama." Stronger bolts were released from her sword as she swung five times, trying to get the speed and precision down. It didn't look anything like Shishou's. Large grey eyes stared at the blade in her hands, unsure of what to think about it. There were bolts, but nothing that would be devastating. Nothing that would kill a demon. Harm, yeah. But not kill.
Sighing irritably, Yuuma practiced again. And again. And again.
"Yuuma! Take a break!" Jigoro watched from the engawa, sipping on tea and watching his student practice. He thinks he started something he shouldn't have. Yuuma had been practicing nonstop, and Jigoro wasn't too sure how to feel about it. He was happy to see the girl practicing, but he couldn't help but be a bit worried. It wasn't every day that Yuuma got this excited, and the last time she did, Jigoro had to drag her out of the library by her hair. And ban her from entering for a few days.
The girl in question was burnt to a crisp from practicing out in the summer sun. She had taken her gi off and was in her under robe. The blue top hooked around her neck and left her back exposed, only to tie back around her waist. The freckles on her cheek multiplied over the past few years and now she was starting to get them on her shoulders.
Yuuma was exhausted. She was sweating bullets and she could feel the sword eat into her palms. Yet she wanted to do this. She had to do it.
If she didn't... if she didn't...
Would that make her a failure?
A failure?
Failure?
"When will you quit failing me?"
Words that have never been uttered to her filled her mind. The sound unfamiliar and in a language, she had never used but recognized from her past memories. It made her fists clench harder, digging the tsuka deeper into her bleeding and raw blisters. A gross, disgusting feeling crawled through her chest and her teeth clenched together. It sunk its nails in her brain and like a ghost, it hung around her shoulders. Large eyes, that weren't there, stared at her with judgment and disdain. Further increasing in power every time a swing didn't conjure what she wanted.
She couldn't be a failure. Not to Shishou. Shishou has shown her so much kindness. Shishou didn't need to save her but did. Shishou who–
"DON'T IGNORE ME!!" Her head was whacked by the wooden cane, making her drop the katana and drop to her knees. Tears pricked her eyes and she clutched the back of her head in misery. Jigoro stood above her, nose fuming and eyebrows deeply furrowed. He gripped her by the belt of her hakama and dragged her to the shade inside the building.
He threw her down, her nine-year-old body falling limp on the tatami floor and her bloody hands open to the world. Jigoro huffed, "Take a break! You'll wear yourself ragged." Aged eyes took in her crumpled form and worn expression. Yuuma melted into the floor, her form becoming lax in the shade and cool floors. Her breathing was still deep and Jigoro nodded with pride that she was still trying to keep the Total Concentration.
The old man threw her a peach which she let hit her. Thankfully it didn't burst, but it did roll next to her face. She gazed at the fruit in exhaustion, wide eyes now half-lidded and the sweat drying on her skin.
"Practicing is good." Jigoro sat next to her, reaching for his cup of tea and giving her a cup of water. He wasn't heartless to not acknowledge her tenaciousness. The blisters and sweat proved her work, and the way her normally light grey eyes looked wet with unshed tears, much how a cloud heavy with rain looked, proving she cared.
"However, running yourself to the floor isn't. Take a break Yuuma. When you are well-rested, you can get back to practicing." Yuuma bit her lip. Eyes burning and her throat felt like it was closing. The peach began to blur the longer she looked at it, and her nose started to itch.
"O-Oi! Why are you crying?" Jigoro wasn't too harsh was he? Did he hit her too hard? Hands that showed hard work and age gently pat her small shoulders, and his eyebrows were furrowed in worry. At the words of crying though, Yuuma began sniffling and tried to rub her eyes. Yet, whenever her tears landed on her hands, they would burn her blisters and it would make her cry harder.
"Yuuma, what is wrong?" Hiccupping, Yuuma tried to sit up but her shoulders refused to help her get off the floor. Her deep breathing shattered, and in some part of her mind, she knew this was the time to breathe deeply. To calm herself down. Yet, her breathing became ragged and she took shallow breaths, trying to get as much air in as possible without filling her aching chest.
Jigoro watched as Yuuma tried to recompose herself. Her small body, now looking even smaller, shaking with each muffled cry and her large eyes shut as tears raced down her cheeks. Jigoro sometimes forgot that she was only nine, with how mature she acted sometimes.
Yuuma took a deep breath, the deepest one she could take, "I-I'm sorry." Jigoro raised a thick eyebrow, "For what?"
"B-because I-I can't get that form down." The sentence elicited more tears. Her cheeks, now chubby from a good diet and proper care, were blotchy. Jigoro blinked owlishly at the child, processing the source of her frustration, and then he couldn't help but chuckle. Patting her head and trying to soothe the crying child, he gazed down at her fondly, "Yuuma, it took some Thunder Breath users months to be able to learn those forms. Some have never even been able to do the first form after years of practice. You did it within the first two years of training." Hell, the first year was all about getting her up to the desired weight!
"There are other forms to work on, and each one will take time."
"B-But I don't wa-want to dis-disappoint you."
"I'm not disappointed!" He screeched, startling Yuuma for a second. Jigoro stared at his student with his slanted eyes, "Just because you can't do the second form, doesn't mean you can't do the others. Rest, and when you are better we can try the other four forms." Yuuma nodded, successfully regaining her breath and trying to calm her hiccups. Jigoro couldn't help but laugh at her, "You must have been stressing a lot to make yourself cry." He continued to pat her head, chuckling when she nodded.
"Take a nap Yuuma. When you're shoulders are no longer sore and your blisters callus over, we can practice again." Yuuma nodded, her eyes closing and her breath evening. It didn't take her long to succumb to sleep.
Taisho Secrets
Yuuma was originally supposed to have sky blue eyes. But when I started crafting her personality I realized she would have an uncanny resemblance to Tokito. So I dropped it and instead did light grey eyes.
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What this? Am I starting another fanfic even though one of them is not complete and I have a terrible update schedule?
Yes. Yes, I am. Hope you enjoy loves!