Koyama felt the winter's chill upon cheeks just a shade or two darker than that of the snow that crunched beneath her feet. Hiking boots. Scuffed from long use, steel-toed to resist wear and tear. The young woman felt a sudden strike upon the crown of her head. A phantom strike. Yet the feel of a solid, wooden bokutล crashing atop her head. Then the all-enveloping darkness of unconsciousness. The sudden flaring of that long ago inflicted pain brought about pleasant memories despite the knot that had grown where the strike had landed. Two and a half months old. Just shy of full maturity in the ways of Nekovalkyrja development. Puberty had come and gone. And the shape of the woman Koyama would become had begun to unfold before her mother, her sister, and teacher.
With the sudden intensity of training by her teacher, her sensei had doubled to the point of full-contact sparring. One had to be brave to take on a Samurai in the ring. Even with a wooden sword, they could be terrifyingly effective opponents be it against an enemy or each other. Thus had her final days at Samurai House both began and ended. All with the stroke of a sword of lacquered red oak. The first signs of returning consciousness had been the bite of cold. Of uneven ground with rock and gravelly soil beneath her. Those first minutes had been clouded even for the enhanced physiology of her birth body, that of the older NH-29. But wake up she did. Winter had beset the area then. And all she had, had on was a simple training uniform of sturdy linen with nary a shoe upon her small feet.
The whole experience of waking up in such a place, of looking around confused seemed to fuel her forward momentum at the memory. It had become a game of random chance and choice between them. Chizuru Saya did not play around with her charges when it came to putting in the hard work. Yet the woman had seemed dead set on continuously teaching her the same lesson over and over. Hammering it home as one would hot steel on the forge.
Biting her bottom lip, Koyama felt the snow give to the ground with a sudden and forceful spurt of energy. Her bracelet had chimed. The reminder for the tour giving her the urgency to catch up. Coming back to Yamatai so soon had left a bit of longing within her at the emptiness of the home she had shared with her mother at Samurai House. Still gone. Still hunting.
Checking in infrequently had become the new norm.
Floating would have been so very simple. The gentle uplifting off the ground and forward momentum covering the distance. Another phantom strike across the shoulder chided her for such a thing. Even with the early climb, she had felt the whim to revisit her erstwhile home amongst the wilds. The knife at her side had been the very same one thrust into the ground and found during those first waking moments up in the mountains. Nothing but her clothing with the simple socks one usually wore in a hall, the knife, the cursing for the pain, and the simple fact that the old witch had done it again. And again she had to find her way home over Yamatai's terrain, suffering her weather and living off the land and rivers along the way. And always, always had to be done just as that first time when she was merely weeks old. On her own with minimal if any assistance at all. And she hadn't doubted Chizuru would've somehow known if she had cheated.
"Please wait!" it wasn't quite a yell, but more of a call to catch the attention of the three ahead of her.
That little imp had thrown a fit when she had returned. Of smiles, and demands, always with the demands. Unfulfilled, Koyama had left her to return here. In a bid to appease the short-statured Elder, thus she had made the trip. The woman's favorite candy shop had been closed ever since the celebrations, the owners have gone to join family elsewhere for a time. Stores low, the youngest of the students had been walking on eggshells while in her hall. So perhaps sake would help? Something fine and refreshing. To be shared amongst their sisters. A respite before the oncoming storm. With the plus of herself getting a tour in the process before placing an order for just such an occassion.
The grey almost washed out cargo pants complimented her hiking boots, as did the simple long-sleeved shirt of black and white with little details done in a deep red along the cuffs. Free-flowing, Koyama's jet-hair swayed and bounced as she hurried. The snowy white winter's blossom of a mountain flower she'd picked up and placed behind an ear on whimsy jostled just a little. It was a flower she favored, pure, beautiful, obscure but worth the effort of coming across as it offered some positive symbolism of purity, luck and other local beliefs. Eschewing placing her hair in a ponytail the simple feel of the cold breezes had been well worth a few flyaways as it had played upon the gusts of chilly air as the sheet of jet-black hair flew free in the strong breezes. Admittedly she had learned to enjoy ending up tossed to the wilderness much to the worry of her mother in those early days. Yet every time had been further afield and seemed timed to her age and growth in finesse and skill with what she had been taught along the way.
A pale hand came up in an almost beseeching gesture even as she neared. While she was here in the cold, Chi would've likely been enjoying herself at the village's hotel with paper and charcoal, or brush and her paints and canvas. Her first, and dearest friend, her one-time sword and shield, mentor, advisor, and sister figure had joined her in the way she always seemed to do when Koyama had been gone for long periods due to her being in the Star Army. Just two old friends sharing a few precious moments together before being torn apart once more due to their duties. One to the Star Army, the other back amongst her warrior sisters and students in the walled confines of Samurai House in Kyoto.