Ancient Steel [PRIVATE]

'But...you died, just like the rest of them...' The male thought. It was the only thing to come to him in this state of shock and fear.

His eyes moved from his father to Ci Lan once more, his heart swelling with disbelief in the words that she spoke. He knew that night was no scene. It wasn't possible for all of the things that had happened to have been fake. People had died, his home had burned, and there was not a single scrap of life that had escaped that slaughterhouse.

As Tsu walked away, the entire area around them grew silent. There were no birds chirping, no crickets. Just a numbing silence that Henrex didn't dare break between them. A quiet ringing noise drifted through Henrex's ears as he stared at the man in front of him, not moving in the slightest.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his father spoke.

"You call yourself my son?" He growled. "You're not worthy of calling yourself a samurai, much less hold my family's name."

Those words caused the male's blood to run cold. But alas, his father was by no means done with his words.

"You trusted that snake, and now you've joined him in the path of shadows?!" The male roared, showing a clear knowledge of what Henrex had done in his spiritual life.

"The shinobi are not the heartless killers you think they are! A single tree does not make a forest, Father!"

The man's grip on his hands tightened, before simply shaking his head. "Yet they all grow from the same seed."

"I never strayed from the Way!"

"How can you expect me to believe that, Henrex Astillon? A pathetic excuse to justify how much of a failure you are."

Henrex opened his mouth to speak, but the word had cut deep into him.

Failure. Something that Henrex despised and fear more than anything else. He feared all of his work was all for naught, and being ridiculed and scorned as a result of it. His heart felt so heavy in his chest, he feared it would break. But, there was also another thing that formed through this time: rage. Rage filled him as his mind flowed back to all of the time that he spent bettering himself. His father had not been around to be a worthy judge of him growing.

And so, the male drew his sword, making a single cut towards his father's arm. The weapon didn't get far, however, as the other man's hand quickly met in kind, drawing a weapon of his own and meeting with his son's, the loud bang of steel breaking the second silence of the Suicide Wood.

Henrex pressed his sword further. "You have no right to say that I'm a failure," He spat.

The two weapons shook as they were met with equal resistance, the blades sliding up and down as the men constantly tried overpowering the other, but to no avail.

"A father has every right to judge his son accordingly," His father said, his voice now level and calm.

Henrex's lips parted, revealing clenched teeth as he reached forward with his other hand, lashing at the grip of his father's sword, his father responding in the same likeness. The two grappled for each other's weapon, aiming to seize both of them and draw this skirmish to a close without a single spark of trouble.

"Just as much of a snake as that weasel you called a friend," He said, his gaze turning evermore stone. "Look where it's gotten you now, Henrex Astillon."

Henrex's gaze lowered with the morbid reminder of his past. But, as he did, the words that were being spoken felt...strange. It was his father, and his father's personality, but there was something strange about the way that he was talking to him. The male's brow furrowed as the struggle finally broke, with the two remaining with their own weapons, a cut forming on their respective sword arms -- Henrex's immediately beginning to heal.

"What happened to you, Father?" Henrex asked. "There was a time where you cared about your family more than the Way."

He scoffed and brought his sword from his side, raising the tip in the direction of his son's heart. "I have no need to care about a group of failures, Henrex Astillon."

There it was again. That strange offsetting bit of his voice. Something wasn't right, but what?! His mind analyzed the statements that he made, trying to figure out what could possibly be the difference. As he did, Henrex heard the man scoff, before a smirk spread out onto his face.

"Are you going to say something, or keep trying to come up with more lies of how you're not just a parasite that won't shut up and die?"

Henrex's teeth ground against each other, his knuckles turning white as the grip on his sword tightened. And then, his head rose to look the man in the eyes.

"You would never have married my mother if you thought she was a failure," He said. "You were always expecting the best for yourself."

"Of course I did."

"Someone who descended from you couldn't possibly be a failure, now could he?"

"Every field bears bad harvest."

"You really believe that, with how hard I've worked?"

"Of course. You didn't improve, Henrex Astillon. You just kept falling as soon as you got up."

"No..."

His father's voice immediately took a harsher tone. "Face it! You failed!"

Henrex's head lowered, now unusually interested in the ground beneath. After all this, all of the work that he had put in to better himself from what he had been all those years ago, to make his father proud, to finally do something right in his eyes...all of it for nothing.

He thought back to the number of failures that had lead to this moment. His fight against Zen, and then soon after Kuro. His fight against the demons in Karakura Central, only to be rescued by Shadin Yuudeshi. His loss to Nemesis Atavata, only to be victorious against Stefan Soan -- albeit barely making it out of both fights by the skin of his teeth. As his mind graced upon these times and moments, he also was able to think of the times that had aided him to this point, making him grow into the man that he was today.

His training with Arianda, leading him to dive into the shadows once more and complete his training as a ninja. His choice to spread the way of the ninja to others, with Leviathan Shihoin and Ritsuko as his students. Everyone that he had met, everyone that he called friends. They were the reason that he was here. They were the ones who kept helping him towards his goals and dreams.

But, what solidified this was a single phrase that burned in the back of his mind. A phrase that he had adapted to everything that he had worked towards, and it was burning the brightest in its meaning at this very moment.

Seven times down, eight times up.

No matter how many times you fall, you always get back up. It was a lesson that Henrex first learned in his youth, and it was his driving force. He had to keep picking himself up, no matter how many times he fell. And so, Henrex's head lifted, and his hand flew to his side, sheathing his sword. His eyes locked onto his father's with a newfound determination.

"I may fall seven times, but I know that I'll rise up eight more." The male said.

The moment that he said this, his father's eyes narrowed. "There's no point in trying to get back up. You'll never be able to truly rise up eight times. You'll fall down by the second time."

"I'll just keep getting back up. I don't care how many times I fall in between."

Closing his eyes, Henrex took in a deep breath, before it was instantly knocked out of him through a strike from behind. Light exploded into the darkness of his sealed off vision, and Henrex could feel himself falling.

He was out cold before he even hit the ground.