Apologies for the sudden 2-week break in releases. I unfortunately got quite ill right at the end of my winter break and ended up bed-ridden for about a week, preventing me from translating the stock of chapters I had been intending on making. My first week of classes started off with a big exam, with another test this week, so it’s been quite busy >.<;
Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee this won’t happen in the future, as I naturally intend on prioritizing my RL studies if it comes down to it, but I’ll try my best to keep releases consistent to my schedule. Thanks to everyone for their patience!
CSWH Chapter 7: My Tracks 3
I wonder, just how much time have I spent building up my physical strength and doing practice swings with my sword, day after day?
Seeing my practice swings, father suddenly said, "Watch" and stood in front of me.
Even though he has only been watching up until now without giving any instructions, I wonder what's suddenly come over him?
Before I could ask that question, father began to display his swordsmanship*.
*T/N: More specifically, it says he began to 'trace' out his 'kata' (as in the standard movements in martial arts forms, but I can't think of a good English equivalent for this)I suppose he wants me to watch and remember it?
Though I was left with a lot of questions, I refreshed my thoughts and focussed on the movements in front of me.
In order to burn every single one of father's moves into my eyes, I watched while forgetting to even blink.
"Practice it."
Leaving those words behind, father's performance ended.
Left alone, I recalled the movements I had burned into my eyes, and moved my body numerous times.
……however, it wouldn't quite move the way I imagined it.
My body could not keep up with the images in my mind.
As the awkwardness and incompleteness of the moves stood out, I became fed up with my own actions.
Why can't I do it…!? -like that, there was a sense of irritation.
Probably, because I could imagine the movements I was aiming towards, it felt even more irritating.
Needless to say, after that, tracing out those movements was also included into my daily training menu.
"……tch."
Once again, a blister popped.
Looking at it, the red from the palm of my hand slightly dyed the part of the wooden sword I was holding.
I tore the hand towel that was placed aside, and wrapped it around the palm of my hand.
……it doesn't hurt.
……it isn't tough.
Because I know……what truly hurts, and what is truly tough.
On the other hand, this pain and suffering caused the violent hate whirling inside of me to flare up even more.
That is why, I will not stop. I cannot stop.
And so, I resumed practice-swinging.
I did nothing but repeat that training over and over again.
Around the time the movements I had been taught sank into my body, I was made to face elder brother in a mock battle.
Though it was called a mock battle, it was just a cute exchange of blows.
However, it was perfect to further drive those movements into my body.
As expected, facing someone was different from doing it on your own.
While fighting, I felt that it was a necessary training to make both parties stronger.
Hence, while exchanging blows with elder brother, I naturally continued the training I had been doing up until then.
"Haa…haa……!"
I wiped the sweat dripping from my forehead with my hand.
Then, following that movement, I dropped my gaze to the palm of my hand.
Nowadays, blisters did not form as easily on my palm, but in exchange, it became hard and rugged……it has turned into a hand that simply did not appear to belong to that of a girl.
Since it seemed to embody the results of my training up until now, I was genuinely happy.
As I made a faint complacent smile and turned my gaze ahead of me, elder brother sat down, appearing exhausted.
I also placed a hand on my knee while continually making laboured breaths.
"Melly. Next you'll fight with me."
Father, who had appeared unnoticed, suddenly started to say something like that.
At those words, I momentarily gaped in a befuddled manner.
However, in the next instant, I understood those words, and reflexively laughed.
Finally.
Finally, I've been recognized as having reached the point where I could exchange blows with father.
It gave me a sense of fulfillment I had never experienced before, and happiness.
As well as a little bit of nervousness and fear.
"Please treat me well……!"
And so, this time a one-on-one mock battle with father commenced.
Father may have gone easy on me, but from my point of view, he beat me without mercy.
"What's wrong, is that all you've got?"
Father looked down on me as I collapsed.
……I was completely unable to reach him.
Even though I thought I had gotten a little stronger, in front of father I was far too powerless.
Honestly, it was frustrating.
As I grovelled on the ground, I looked up at father.
Between father and I, there was an evident gap.
Whether it be experience, strength, or speed, I was lacking in everything.
That being the case, then I had to bring forth something that would close that gap.
……even father lost something important to the irrational reality.
That being the case, just how strong would I have to become before it will be sufficient?
Just how strong would I have to become in order to fulfill my wish?
…….I don't know.
However, at the very least, right now I still have some ways to go if I am being looked down on father like this.
I pressed my trembling hand against the ground, and stood up once more.
"It's not…enough."
And so, I fought against father again.