Following the funeral and a heartfelt farewell to his father, Sear was sitting alone atop a hillside overlooking the sea.
Overhead, the sky was mesmerizing, an evening reminiscent of how it was the day before.
Yet in contrast, his mind was restless, thoughts all over the place; to him, just yesterday felt like a distant dream. The laughter of his father constantly echoed in his head, haunting him though at the same time providing solace.
Constantly he felt a looming fear that one day his father's memories, like how it was with his past life's parents, might also fade from his mind. Just that possibility was enough to terrify him.
The marines who came to deliver his father's body had revealed the cause of his death. Jacob had selflessly sacrificed himself to rescue an unknown girl.
Having directly jumped into the ocean to save her during a heavy storm, he had successfully managed to tie the drowning girl to a rope dangling from the ship. The girl would go on to be pulled onboard by the crew, bringing her to safety, but unfortunately, before he too could grab on, a massive wave got to him.
The following day, his lifeless body had been swept ashore on a nearby island by those same currents.
. . .
A gust of wind breezed past his ears. Sear looked at the large orange ball above. His hands reached out, trying to grasp it, but predictably, it was out of his reach.
Sniff!!
Tears welled up in his eyes, drops of which slid down his face in no time.
It was heart-wrenching, remembering the moment when he saw his father in that state.
Inside the coffin was a pale greenish corpse, a husk of what once was, a total contrast from the lively man the boy recognized. After peering at that face just once, he didn't glimpse at it again.
That appearance was of someone he once had a close bond with, yet at the same time, that soulless vessel had seemed too distant, like a complete stranger. There was nothing more to see after having taken in that unforgettable memory—that face, one last time.
At the moment, a flood of memory surged inside him, like a dam had broken down.
The haze that clouded his mind somewhat cleared as a result.
With a better recollection of his past, among a plethora of memories, Sear was reminded of an episode that occurred during his stay with his grandpa as a child.
Being the gloomy kid he was, always anxious and self-conscious because of his own poor health, he had asked his grandpa if he would die due to his fragile body, to which the old man had replied:
['Who is it, that said you will die??.. my child, the one who will die is not you, but someone else!!']
At that time, his grandpa had left him confused with those cryptic words—words that had stuck to him growing up, even up to his adulthood.
". . .Maybe Grandpa saw this coming all along. Wonder if he knew that I would go on to be reincarnated into an entirely different world. . ."
Yet again, determination bubbled up inside of him. Having no time to look back and keep distressing for what was gone, his eyes fixed forward.
For hours with no end, he looked on at the sky and the sea, as if hypnotized, even as the sun set below the horizon.
The whole night he remained there at the cliffside, enduring through the windy night, basking under the beautiful moonlight.
He woke up early the next morning, finding himself wrapped up in a thin wind-proof cape. He scratched his head, trying hard to remember as to when exactly he happened to doze off the previous night.
Not finding a definitive answer, he forgot about the matter and moved on, subsequently running straight toward the dojo. There he greeted Master Kyoshirou and joined the others in the daily training.
Afterwards, following the regular morning training with the other disciples, he also immersed himself in more exercises alone; mainly focused on building stamina and speed, like running, jumping, etc.
He even planned to swim in the river, but upon seeing some large crocodiles lining the banks, he had to give up on the idea for the time being.
Next, tired and hungry, he went to the dojo's cafeteria and got reprimanded by the cook for being late. All the other kids had already had their fill by the time he got there.
To complicate things further, before he could finish eating the food, the bell rang.
The dojo also functioned as a school. Sear didn't particularly like this part of the day, but he had no choice. Attending those three long hours of classes on language, math, etc., was deemed mandatory by the dojo master.
At around 3 pm when the classes ended, Sear returned back to the cliffside where he had spent the previous night.
Instead of taking rest at this hour, like the other boys his age, he was about to try something that had saved his life countless times on the battlefield. A breathing exercise that was extremely secretive, taught to him by his grandfather.
...
Arms stretched wide as if about to embrace the sun, Sear stood still while facing its radiance.
Calm and collected, he slowly breathed in and out. The sun above burned as hot as ever, causing beads of sweat to drop down his chin and fall onto the dry soil.
But then, in just a matter of seconds, the sweating strangely seemed to stop.
Expelling the heat, his body cooled. Even his clothes, which were wet because of the sweat, completely dried off in the next minute.
His ability was such. Absorbing the sun's rays while being unaffected by the heat and even being able to radiate the excess heat from his body. This radiating heat turned his sweat into steam, giving off a menacing presence.
Changing his body's respiratory pattern at will was an ability that his grandfather used to showcase to him a lot. Achieved only through a proper breathing method called: The Radiant Sun Dance.
Through diligent practice, one was supposed to be able to rejuvenate every single cell in their body, maximizing the capabilities of every fiber in their organs and giving an increased burst of strength, speed, and stamina.
The reason it was referred to as a dance was that when the technique was in effect, a person apparently was so mobile and their movements so precise, without any wasted energy, that to an outside observer they would appear to be dancing in a deep trance.
However, Sear never reached even close to that level of mastery, so really, more than anything else, it acted as a breathing exercise that in his past life had gradually helped him improve his overall health.
Also, when he served in the war, it generally wasn't something that could help alter the wider outcome of a battlefield, but it was also more than a simple trick.
In extremely stressful situations, it not only calmed the mind and helped one make rational decisions, but there was also the added benefit of not having to sweat as much and not easily getting tired, which gave him a few second chances at life—certainly an edge over other soldiers.