Gai moved through the night, his movements fierce and driven by a deep-seated anger. His sword cut through the air, catching the faint light of the crescent moon obscured by storm clouds. The wind carried the smell of rain-soaked soil and a hint of ozone. It seemed to warn him, but he ignored it, focused solely on releasing the frustration threatening to consume him.

The elemental testing had been a disaster. It had been a week, but the shame still clung to him. The instructor's voice echoed in his mind, "Your score is zero. No affinity detected." Those words haunted him day and night.

The barracks offered no comfort. Whispers followed him wherever he went, and derisive laughter came from corners where recruits gathered. Even those who usually stayed quiet joined in mocking him. "No elemental power at all?" they sneered. "What are you even doing here? Go back to farming!" Gai knew they mocked him to hide their own insecurities, but that knowledge didn’t ease the sting.

With a raw shout, Gai swung his blade wide through the darkness. The scream was a release, the weeks worth of rage and helplessness surging out of him. As soon as it left his lips, the rain began to pour, drowning out his cry with its relentless beat against the leaves and grass.

“I can’t believe it!” he yelled, his voice breaking under the strain of his emotions. “What is wrong with me?” His grip on the hilt tightened, his knuckles aching from the pressure.

“What is wrong with you?” The words cut through the rain, sharp and mocking. The voice was smooth, tinged with amusement at Gai’s suffering.

Gai froze mid-swing, heart pounding in his chest. He spun around, feet slipping on the wet grass as he searched for the voice. His movements were frantic, and before he could steady himself, he fell hard onto his back with a splash. Water soaked through his clothes, leaving him chilled to the bone.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, voice hoarse as he scrambled to his feet, mud clinging to his hands and knees. He held his sword in front of him, his grip unsteady with adrenaline.

“Oops,” the voice said again, followed by a chuckle. “I’m behind you, mate.”

Gai turned so quickly he almost slipped again. Muscles tense, he raised his sword, ready to strike at whatever was tormenting him.

But there was nothing there.

His blade sliced through empty air.

Chaos erupted in an instant. A brutal blow hit him square in the sternum, knocking the breath from Gai's lungs. He stumbled back, gasping desperately for air. Another strike took his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground once more. Pain shot through his body.

Before he could gather his wits, cold steel touched the side of his neck. His sword was gone, now in the grip of someone far more skilled.

"Nothing's wrong with you, mate," a voice whispered, close enough for Gai to feel their breath, even with the rain pouring down. The voice was unsettlingly calm, laced with confidence. "You just don’t know it yet."

The blade lingered for a moment, then withdrew. Gai lay there, rain soaking him, trying to process what had happened. He heard measured footsteps moving away, taunting him with their calmness.

"Wait!" he croaked, forcing himself up despite the pain. His voice was strained, tinged with desperation. "Who are you?"

The figure stopped at the edge of his vision, where shadows melded with the dim light of distant lanterns swaying in the storm.

"For now..." they replied slowly, as if savouring the moment. "I am your new instructor."

Gai squinted through the rain, trying to catch a glimpse of a face or eyes, but all he saw was darkness. Only his sword gleamed briefly in a flash of lightning, laying in the mud nearby.

"Why?" Gai asked, the word slipping out before he could stop himself. Anger and confusion tangled in his throat.

The hooded figure paused, head tilting slightly. Rain traced the edge of their hood as they stood silently for a moment. Then: "Pick up your sword and copy me."

Gai blinked rainwater from his eyes. "I don't understand—"

"Or don't," the figure interrupted, stepping back with a casual shrug. They drew their own blade in one fluid motion, the weapon appearing from beneath the cloak without warning. "I don't really care."

Gai hesitated, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. Something about the figure's indifference stung worse than any insult. With a scowl, he grabbed his sword from the mud and attempted what he thought looked like a proper stance.

"Not like that," the figure said immediately, voice sharp with irritation. "Hold it with two hands out in front of you. Visualize the tip of the blade lining up with an opponent's face."

Before Gai could process the instruction, the figure materialized beside him. He startled—he hadn't even seen them move.

"What are you—" Gai started, but the figure's grip only tightened.

"Quiet. Like this," they snapped, grabbing Gai's wrists and forcing them into position.

The rain drummed against Gai's shoulders, seeping through his clothes until the fabric clung to his skin like a second, colder layer. He clenched his jaw against the chill but kept his eyes fixed on the instructor's movements.

“Feet like this. Right foot forward.” The instructor stepped back half a pace and nudged Gai’s legs apart with their boot—firmly enough to make their point but not so hard as to topple him over. "More. You'll topple over like a drunk the moment someone looks at you funny."

"I know how to stand," Gai muttered, but adjusted his footing anyway.

"Clearly not," the instructor retorted. "Balance is everything. Without it, you're just a sack of meat waiting to be skewered."

Gai bit back another comment. Something about this stranger's confidence made him pay attention despite his irritation.

"Better," the instructor acknowledged after inspecting his stance. "Now, from this position, raise your sword straight up—this is your high guard." They demonstrated with fluid precision, their weapon catching what little light filtered through the storm clouds. "Then cut straight down, pushing out as you go."

The blade sliced through raindrops in a perfect arc, ending in a position that looked deceptively simple but that Gai could tell held deadly intent.

"Now you try."

Gai raised his sword, trying to mirror what he'd seen. His arms trembled slightly—whether from cold or fatigue, he couldn't tell.

“No,” came the instructor’s sharp correction. “Again.”

Gai tried once more, focusing on keeping his movements smooth.

"Still wrong. Again."

Each attempt burned through his shoulders and back. Rain blurred his vision, but he kept going, his frustration gradually giving way to concentration. The repetitive motion became almost hypnotic, each cut slightly better than the last.

"Acceptable," the instructor finally said, though their tone suggested it was barely so. "When you cut, imagine slicing straight through your opponent from crown to groin. One clean line."

Gai blinked at that but didn’t argue. He adjusted his grip again and raised the blade once more.

“Do it a thousand times,” came the next command.

“What?” Gai nearly dropped his sword. “That’s ridiculous!”

The instructor didn’t flinch at his outburst; if anything, their stance grew even more relaxed—as though they found his frustration amusing rather than threatening. A low chuckle escaped from beneath their hood—a sound that was equal parts condescending and genuinely entertained.

“The only thing ridiculous about it,” they said dryly, “is that you probably can’t count to one thousand… peasant.”

Gai’s cheeks flushed hot despite the cold rain still pouring over him. He opened his mouth to retort but found no words willing to come forth; all he could do was glare at them as fresh anger bubbled up inside him.

"If you want to learn how to fight—really fight—in ways that will let you survive against elementals," the instructor said, already backing away, "be here every night when the guards change shift."

They turned to leave, melting into the darkness between one blink and the next.

"Wait!" Gai called out, suddenly desperate. "What's your name?"

Silence answered him, filled only by the patter of rain.

Then: "Yami." The whisper came from directly behind his ear.

Gai whirled around. "Shit!"

But Yami had vanished completely now—swallowed up by shadows and rain alike—leaving only their instructions behind.