Noah flipped through the book page by page—his reading speed was so rapid that Sophia found herself wondering if he was actually comprehending anything written on the pages. (She had taken three weeks to learn that movement technique when she was 9, of course.)
Sighing, Noah set the book aside. Sophia assumed he'd given up because he couldn't decipher the descriptions—especially those detailing the hundreds of possible variations for the steps—but he immediately picked up the next one.
"Eh… that's not how it's supposed to be done, Noah… training in martial arts is—"
"I know, it takes attention and focus," he replied, recalling the words of his old instructor. To Noah, however, that was irrelevant—as long as the result came, that was all that mattered.
Sophia found it strange—Noah seemed to know exactly what he was doing, even though he'd claimed he'd never practiced martial arts before. In truth, he was reading, albeit with such an absurd speed that his eyes seemed to catch only a jumble of drawings rather than actual words. She could tell by watching the direction his eyes took—even though at times it seemed they vanished too quickly for her to follow.
Once again, he placed the book on the bed and reached for the last one—a volume of intermediate level. The book was thinner than he had expected.
"You mentioned that this one is different from the other two, but why?" he asked, flipping through it without really reading. (Depending on Sophia's answer, it might not even be worth reading it.)
She sighed and said:
— ...This is a technique we consider intermediate, and unlike the other two—which even practitioners at the Qi Refinement stage can attempt—to train it, you need the ability to control Qi; in other words, you have to be at least a cultivator at the Qi Refinement stage.
"Right…" Noah set that last book aside. "Well, I guess it'll just be these two then."
Sophia saw him struggle to assume a meditative position and, although confused, even helped him. But she couldn't help but ask to clarify her doubts:
— What are you doing…?
"Huh? I'm going to train both techniques, of course."
"—What…?" The response irritated her a bit; for some reason, it seemed as if he was belittling their family's techniques and acting as if they weren't worth the effort. "No, Noah, that's not how you're supposed to train these things!"
Noah didn't understand the sudden change in her tone—or the reason behind that look, as if she were angry about something—but he tried to explain:
— As you know, I can't move much right now, so I can't train these techniques in the traditional way.
"And what difference would meditating make?"
"The mind and body are one…" he said. "Don't you have a saying to that effect here?"
"What…? No… I don't think so…"
"Hmm, I see… Well, the point is, I don't need to train using my body as long as I have the means to do it with my mind. In the end, it will be the same—because whatever my mind does, my body is also capable of. Got it now?"
"Y–Yes…" Sophia stayed silent beside him for a while, lost in thought. Then she looked at the book left aside and pointed to it, "Why didn't you read that one too…? It's much better than the others."
"Because I can't use my Qi right now; if I did, it would worsen my condition and delay my recovery even further."
"That's why you asked about the difference between them…"
Noah nodded.
"...I suppose you'd rather do this on your own, in silence..." she said as she stood up. "How long do you think you'll be training like that...?"
"I'm not sure... When your father arrives, if he brings the oven, you could come over and throw a stone at me to wake me up," he replied.
"A stone?!"
"Well, you saw what happened to the other girl's arm, so..."
"Ah, I see... But what if, by some chance, he doesn't manage to get the oven...?"
"In that case... leave me here for a few days... I think four should be enough."
"Without food...?" she asked hesitantly.
"...It's fine; that amount of time won't hurt me."
"Alright..."
Sophia walked to the door and paused before leaving:
"...I'll be back as soon as Dad arrives with the oven," she said, dismissing the earlier possibility that perhaps Arthur wouldn't be able to make the purchase.
Noah smiled without even realizing it—a strange, automatic reaction—just like the warmth filling his chest.
"Thank you, and..." he hesitated—but change requires courage, not just opportunities—Noah tried to smile sincerely at Sophia, "thank you for worrying about me."
Sophia hurried out, embarrassed—the freshly fixed door trembled when it was slammed.
Taking up his meditation posture, Noah wondered what he was really going to do with all this free time he'd just been granted—a period during which no one would come near this place.
"These techniques aren't as interesting as I imagined... just like modern martial arts, they're too easy."
[I don't think you'll say something like that when you find a real technique—a technique that parts seas with a single sword stroke and crushes mountains just by lowering your hand.]
Sighing, he said:
"For that to happen, first I'll have to leave this place..."
Noah fell silent for a while, lost in thought about the moment when something like that might occur, and wondering how he'd possibly feel on that fateful day—perhaps it would be a painful farewell, though he wasn't sure—or maybe he preferred not to admit it, still determined to remain emotionally detached, even if he didn't realize it.
"Hmm... well... I guess all I can do is improve on what I have for now."
Closing his eyes, his mind slipped into darkness—until in a moment of clarity, a strange scene emerged: a vast field, the perfect setting for practicing step techniques, something that requires a wide open space.
"I'm going to start by adding a few more variations of steps."