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Description
The night was cloudy in her memory. There were no stars but a crescent moon kept breaking through the cover. Seiko could just about see it through the reflections on the dining room window.

This is where she always went in meditation, living that night as a ghost inside her younger body, unable to influence the events. Tonight she started at the rice.

“Seiko, pass the rice?” Her body looked away from the window and reached out to the bowl. She passed it to her mother. Her father reached a rude distance across the table and served himself a dumpling. Her mother shot him a look and spooned rice onto her plate. Seiko moved her sashimi around, and separated one from the other with her chopsticks. She chewed it slowly and stared at the sword above her father’s head. He followed her gaze back to the wall. He opened his mouth to speak and the window exploded.
Glass flew across the room, followed by three men in black assassin suits. One pressed a knife to her mother’s throat and the other herded her father away from her. The last leapt on her, twisting her out of her cross-legged position and pressing her face into the floor where she could only see her father. Glass bit into her cheeks and collarbone. Seiko had still not made a noise, in a contrast to her mother’s panicked panting and her father’s yell as glass hit him. Her father edged towards the sword on the wall.
“Its time to pay up now.”
“We do not have the money.”
“Then pay in blood.”
Her father leapt for the sword. The man holding Seiko was faster. He leapt over the shattered remains of dinner and plucked the sword from the wall. In one movement, he spun and impaled her father. Her mother screamed and struggled against the man holding her, who opened a shallow cut in her neck. Seiko pushed herself off the floor, gaining cuts on her palms and fingers as her father fell to his knees, then onto his front among the scattered rice. The rice began to turn red around him. He looked at Seiko, then her mother.
“S-sorry.” Seiko nearly saw his spirit leave him as much as she felt it. Her mother was shocked into silence as Seiko’s eyes filled with tears. A sob escaped her throat and all three men looked at her. The sword-bearing man came closer and plunged the sword into the wood between her legs. Her father’s blood dripped off it and she looked at it, then his murderer. He smirked.
“Go on girl, take it!” The men laughed harshly at her. “It’ll give you something to remember your father by.” They laughed again as the tears trickled down her cheeks. Her mother’s hysterical voice cut through.
“Seiko! Seiko! Take the sword! Seiko! Seik-!” She grunted as one of the men delivered a blow to her, then flopped against her captor.
Mother…No…No “No no no no no no!” Seiko leapt to her feet and wrenched the sword out of the wood. She drove at the closest man, who dodged quickly, then spun wildly with the too-big sword. The man holding her mother stepped back then pain blossomed in the side of her head. Then the memory was broken for a long time.

Seiko nearly jerked out of her meditation here, but forced herself back into the memory and sunk deeper into her past.

Her cheeks stung. And her collarbone and her hands. She opened her eyes and saw the back of her mother’s head, her beautiful black hair soaking up blood. Her father’s pale hand reached towards her, but his face was deathly slack. Seiko knelt and saw her parent’s blood soaked through her white dress. She screamed. And screamed and screamed. The pale light of dawn watched her for an age, then a blanket wrapped around her and a sensation of being lifted.
A cold bed enveloped her and then thunked upwards and vibrated for a while, sometimes pushing her left or right. Then it thunked down again and moved smoothly. Air pushed at her then a new cold bed enveloped her. The bed warmed as numbness where the stings were grew. Air stroked her skin, then a crinkly stiff dress. Another cold bed drew her in and people moved around her. There was a clink and the sword was near the bed, cleaned of any evidence. Something pressed her lips. She chewed and saltiness exploded in her mouth. Then she choked down a wetness that swallowed the saltiness and more things moved around her. Life returned to her gradually.

Seiko pulled her spirit out of her 13-year-old body and forced it back into her 16 years of age. She opened her eyes and the empty practice room greeted her. Filled with the stillness, she picked her father’s sword from the floor and began her exercises.
I am Force. She told herself. I am Truth. I will be better. I will. Be. Better.
The sword hissed in the echoing room.
Swish swish swoosh. Swish swish swoosh.

Description
The night was cloudy in her memory. There were no stars but a crescent moon kept breaking through the cover. Seiko could just about see it through the reflections on the dining room window.

This is where she always went in meditation, living that night as a ghost inside her younger body, unable to influence the events. Tonight she started at the rice.

“Seiko, pass the rice?” Her body looked away from the window and reached out to the bowl. She passed it to her mother. Her father reached a rude distance across the table and served himself a dumpling. Her mother shot him a look and spooned rice onto her plate. Seiko moved her sashimi around, and separated one from the other with her chopsticks. She chewed it slowly and stared at the sword above her father’s head. He followed her gaze back to the wall. He opened his mouth to speak and the window exploded.
Glass flew across the room, followed by three men in black assassin suits. One pressed a knife to her mother’s throat and the other herded her father away from her. The last leapt on her, twisting her out of her cross-legged position and pressing her face into the floor where she could only see her father. Glass bit into her cheeks and collarbone. Seiko had still not made a noise, in a contrast to her mother’s panicked panting and her father’s yell as glass hit him. Her father edged towards the sword on the wall.
“Its time to pay up now.”
“We do not have the money.”
“Then pay in blood.”
Her father leapt for the sword. The man holding Seiko was faster. He leapt over the shattered remains of dinner and plucked the sword from the wall. In one movement, he spun and impaled her father. Her mother screamed and struggled against the man holding her, who opened a shallow cut in her neck. Seiko pushed herself off the floor, gaining cuts on her palms and fingers as her father fell to his knees, then onto his front among the scattered rice. The rice began to turn red around him. He looked at Seiko, then her mother.
“S-sorry.” Seiko nearly saw his spirit leave him as much as she felt it. Her mother was shocked into silence as Seiko’s eyes filled with tears. A sob escaped her throat and all three men looked at her. The sword-bearing man came closer and plunged the sword into the wood between her legs. Her father’s blood dripped off it and she looked at it, then his murderer. He smirked.
“Go on girl, take it!” The men laughed harshly at her. “It’ll give you something to remember your father by.” They laughed again as the tears trickled down her cheeks. Her mother’s hysterical voice cut through.
“Seiko! Seiko! Take the sword! Seiko! Seik-!” She grunted as one of the men delivered a blow to her, then flopped against her captor.
Mother…No…No “No no no no no no!” Seiko leapt to her feet and wrenched the sword out of the wood. She drove at the closest man, who dodged quickly, then spun wildly with the too-big sword. The man holding her mother stepped back then pain blossomed in the side of her head. Then the memory was broken for a long time.

Seiko nearly jerked out of her meditation here, but forced herself back into the memory and sunk deeper into her past.

Her cheeks stung. And her collarbone and her hands. She opened her eyes and saw the back of her mother’s head, her beautiful black hair soaking up blood. Her father’s pale hand reached towards her, but his face was deathly slack. Seiko knelt and saw her parent’s blood soaked through her white dress. She screamed. And screamed and screamed. The pale light of dawn watched her for an age, then a blanket wrapped around her and a sensation of being lifted.
A cold bed enveloped her and then thunked upwards and vibrated for a while, sometimes pushing her left or right. Then it thunked down again and moved smoothly. Air pushed at her then a new cold bed enveloped her. The bed warmed as numbness where the stings were grew. Air stroked her skin, then a crinkly stiff dress. Another cold bed drew her in and people moved around her. There was a clink and the sword was near the bed, cleaned of any evidence. Something pressed her lips. She chewed and saltiness exploded in her mouth. Then she choked down a wetness that swallowed the saltiness and more things moved around her. Life returned to her gradually.

Seiko pulled her spirit out of her 13-year-old body and forced it back into her 16 years of age. She opened her eyes and the empty practice room greeted her. Filled with the stillness, she picked her father’s sword from the floor and began her exercises.
I am Force. She told herself. I am Truth. I will be better. I will. Be. Better.
The sword hissed in the echoing room.
Swish swish swoosh. Swish swish swoosh.