Wei was eleven now—tall enough to grip a blade, though the weapon still looked oversized in his hands. Miwa stood opposite him in the clearing, bare-chested, sweat running down his scarred torso as he adjusted the boy's grip on a crude spear.
"Too stiff," Miwa muttered. "You're holding it like a stick, not a weapon. Bend your knees. Breathe from your stomach. Again."
Wei's dark hair clung to his forehead, eyes gleaming under the dappled sunlight. He planted his feet, exhaling sharply, and thrust forward.
Miwa parried with a wooden staff, flicking the strike aside. "Better. But if that was a monster, you'd be dead."
Wei groaned, stamping his foot. "Then tell me how not to die!"
Suppressing a twitch of a smile, Miwa snorted. "That's what I'm doing, silly kid. You don't learn by asking—you learn by failing, then trying again."
Wei clenched his teeth and thrust once more. This time the spear whistled just shy of Miwa's ribs.
For a breath, Miwa froze. He's fast. Too fast for his age.
Wei's grin broke wide. "Did you see? I almost got you!"
Miwa rapped the back of his head with the staff.
"Almost is worthless. You 'almost' live, you die. You 'almost' eat, you starve."
Wei rubbed his head, pouting. "Hmph… you're so mean."
"You'll thank me when you're still breathing tomorrow."
"Fine…" Wei muttered.
"Again. Imagine you're lunging at a monster." Miwa's tone was firm but not unkind.
Wei obeyed, but the attempt ended in a clumsy stumble.
"If you swing like that at a beast, you'll be the one on the ground."
Wei groaned. "But it's heavy! Can't I just… I don't know… stab them with a stick instead?"
Miwa smirked faintly. "You want to hunt monsters with a stick? Good luck eating dinner."
Wei puffed his cheeks and swung harder, almost toppling with the momentum. Miwa's low chuckle slipped out.
"Not funny," Wei muttered.
"It's very funny," Miwa said, though his eyes softened. "But… better. You'll learn. You have to." His voice sharpened. "If you don't, the monsters out here will eat you alive before another sunrise."
Wei's grin faded. He knew Miwa wasn't exaggerating. This was their life—hunting beasts, surviving on the edge of a world that wanted nothing to do with them.
That night, lying under the cracked roof of their shelter, Wei whispered into the dark,
I'll get stronger. Strong enough so Miwa doesn't have to worry anymore.
The next day, Miwa led him deeper into the forest. Their hut was only a smudge behind the trees when they stopped by a hollow log. Miwa's face hardened.
"Today you'll kill. No practice. No games. This is survival."
Wei blinked, clutching the spear tighter. "Kill what…?"
A rustle. From the bush crawled a beast—six-legged, fur matted, fangs bared, eyes like burning coals. Its growl rattled the ground beneath them.
Wei's mouth went dry. "Th-that's huge!"
"Bigger things will come for you," Miwa said, voice like stone. "Show me what you've learned."
Wei tried to steady himself. Knees bent, spear forward. But his hands shook.
The beast lunged.
"MOVE!" Miwa barked
Wei dodged, air burning in his lungs. He thrust—the spear scraped the beast's side, drawing a shallow cut. Blood sprayed. The monster shrieked.
"I hit it…"
The beast charged again. Wei stumbled, fear crawling up his spine. His mind screamed to run.
Miwa's voice cut through: "If you run, you die. Fight!"
Wei grit his teeth and thrust blind. The spear punched through its throat. Hot blood gushed. The creature convulsed and collapsed.
Silence.
Wei stood frozen, the spear shaking in his hands.
Miwa's voice softened. "Good."
Wei's throat tightened. "I… I killed it."
"Yes." Miwa crouched beside him. "And you'll kill more. Or they'll kill you."
Wei's black eyes widened with horror and awe. "Is… is this what it means to be strong?"
Miwa looked away. "No. This is what it means to survive. And never forget the weight of it. Strength isn't glory, Wei. It's blood. It's choosing to carry it so others don't have to."
Wei swallowed silently.
That night, Miwa watched him sleep by the fire, the boy's brow furrowed even in dreams. Miwa's thoughts twisted like smoke.
He doesn't understand yet… what strength costs. God—anyone
higher up, please help me. I pray he never does.