[ Point of View: Kaigaku/Michael ]
A chill ran through my body, making my skin and body hair stand on end.
I couldn't help having my mind all stirred and in chaos; anyone would probably feel the same after being ripped from their life and suddenly finding themselves in the middle of nowhere.
In the distance I could only see a dense forest unlike any I had seen before and a large house... Japanese? It was the only thing around, and it looked like something straight out of a manga.
I looked at my hands, they were the same color but now rough, like someone who had used them all his life for work; in a way it felt good but strange.
—KAIGAKU!— Suddenly, a shrill voice shouted a name that instinctively sounded familiar, and I turned around purely out of momentum.
The one calling me was a boy with strange yellow hair, and I understood; like a gear, my mind clicked into place all at once. This boy was clearly Zenitsu from the popular demon manga of my previous reality.
I also understood who I was at that same moment; glancing to the side, seeing and feeling my long black hair like a mane and this tight collar at my neck, I realized I was the one considered the traitor of the Demon Slayers, Kaigaku.
—Don't you talk to me, trash.— Maybe out of habit I answered Zenitsu brusquely as I left, letting this body lead me inside.
I didn't give him a chance to speak; I couldn't. I had to go where this body wanted to go and assimilate all my new... circumstances.
It only took a couple of minutes with my mind in chaos to reach a room I entered to stay alone.
Maybe because I was finally alone in a safe place, I remembered everything; like a bigger flashback but just as quick, I instinctively knew everything about Kaigaku's life, at least most of it.
Like anyone, I remembered the general things, but certain parts were lost in my mind, few things really; my memory felt much better than before, now that I thought about it.
Exploring my memories I realized that almost everything was within reach. Very early childhood things were lost, but from a certain age onward I could recall everything in great detail. 'All of that was useless now — what I really needed was to remember what I was supposed to do.'
Among those memories was the famous Thunder Breathing, at least for the most part; after all, Kaigaku never managed to learn the first form.
What mattered more were my responsibilities: my personal crow and the old man who was supposed to be my master. That last thought was bitter; the relationship between Kaigaku and his master had deteriorated over the years.
After failing to master the first form and nearly finishing his training, Kaigaku threw himself into missions to get stronger and, sometime later, his master had another student, a weeping boy who miraculously managed to do what Kaigaku could not, learn the first form, even though he failed at almost everything else.
Seeing the master's renewed effort toward what Kaigaku considered a nuisance made their already tense and distant relationship worse.
Nothing improved after the master wanted them to share the title of successor; it was like an insult to his years of training to have to share what he believed he deserved with someone who had only been lucky enough to learn one form that he could not.
Full of resentment, he almost left the master's house; he barely returned to use the training field and, whenever he could, stayed at the Demon Slayer headquarters or in the towns they sent him to.
'A somewhat... unfair life.' I couldn't help but murmur. Though it was clear he wasn't a good person, life didn't hand him things either: Kaigaku was born in filth and crawled toward a peak he never reached, limited to a breathing style he couldn't perfect and a talent not blessed like Tanjiro's or Yoriichi's, to end up becoming a demon and dying at the hands of the weeping boy he despised.
I even felt some anger: so much work only to die against Zenitsu, someone who skipped training and only reached where he was thanks to immense natural talent; 'at least that was how I saw it.' It was strange he got so far with so little effort at hard work.
Sighing, I let those thoughts go, 'it wasn't my life (now it was).' I wasn't Kaigaku; I didn't care about the hardships he'd had and I was more worried about what would come from now on, which I had to face.
Luckily for me, I was still at the beginning of the story; I knew because Zenitsu hadn't yet gone to the final selection, but he probably didn't have many days left (maybe he'd leave tomorrow), I wasn't entirely sure because the original didn't care.
The positive is that I had time; at least a little, before dangers arrived and I faced the fateful day when I'd cross paths with Kokushibo, 'a day I intended to avoid at all costs.'
I might not be completely weak, but I wasn't particularly strong either: the original Kaigaku still hadn't learned Full Concentration Constant, repetitive movements and the first form, but he still had some strength from what I'd seen in his fights with other demons.
Technically he was a Tsuguko, a direct disciple of a Hashira in service or retired, but he didn't have the strength or experience necessary to be officially recognized as one; in the end it was an empty title that annoyed me.
Who knows why, but that feeling of being weak made me loathe myself. 'I had been weak and limited before, but now at least I had a way to achieve something: just feeling this superhuman body I knew I could be more.'
Clenching my fist I felt my muscles swell with strength, an unnatural strength I wasn't used to but that made me feel good. With this level of strength, things like throwing a full-grown man tens of meters or breaking through stone walls would probably be easy, unthinkable to me before.
Alright! I had no time to waste. For now I had no assignment, so I was going to train as much as I could with what I knew. 'It was that or die miserably against a strong demon due to my lack of naturalness in combat, or run into a six-eyed demon with sibling-love problems.'
It took me a few minutes to get dressed in light clothing: a simple training haori and pants. I didn't need anything else except this strange tight collar I wore; for some reason I liked it a lot, so I decided to keep it on.
Anyway, it would be odd not to wear it: Kaigaku never took it off in his whole life, not even to sleep, so at least I would keep that habit which pleased me in a way.
'Now then... how the hell do I train?' After so much thinking I realized I didn't know how to train; I didn't want to repeat what the original did because it clearly hadn't produced good results, but I didn't have many ideas...
'One second... of course... this should work...'
I had a momentary epiphany and at least now I knew where to direct my efforts, and that was clearly modern training; I wasn't going to lift weights because that would be useless, but certain knowledge would help me.
Starting progressive training, increasing within the same workout the weight or the exercise I did up to muscle failure, then following with a much lighter load or lower muscular implication.
I couldn't help but laugh a little. 'Who would've thought that wasting time on the internet would help me now.' These pieces of knowledge would be very useful to me.
I mentally planned what I would do, the methods I'd use combined with habitual training to maximize my gains; in fact, one of these bits of knowledge would help train my tendons and joints. 'Maybe with this the body could finally handle the first form of Thunder Breathing.'
'Not like I have anything to lose...' I thought in the end; it was this or follow a normal training that would probably bring me null or minimal improvements following the original path destiny had made for me. Nah, I'd win.
...
[ Point of View: General ]
[ Time Skip: 4 hours ]
...
In a vast forest full of peach trees and vibrant plants stood young Kaigaku, hands on his knees, exhausted, almost about to collapse from fatigue.
Around him could be seen multiple rocks of different sizes, from the size of a head to some almost as big as a human body.
The ground around him was somewhat messy: churned earth and some trampled grasses.
It was clear the training had borne fruit, at least in effort; whether it was effective or not we would only know in the future.
It was nearly night; only small clear glints of sunlight could be seen, but they were enough to know it was time to finish.
—Yeah... it works.— Kaigaku/Michael said in murmurs; it was clear he had faith in his training method.
Shortly after saying that he left with the goal of taking a hot bath. It seemed to be another way to improve performance, one of the various and random modern bits of knowledge he'd managed to acquire by wasting time; at least they no longer seemed like that and were more like the seeds of a new future.