The next morning came wrapped in dew and the gentle hum of waking birds. The stone floor was cold beneath Kai's feet as he stepped outside, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Sir 8 stood barefoot on a wide, flat rock with the wind curling through his dreads and the faint scent of incense trailing around him. He looked more like a mountain monk than a drunk vagabond this morning. Kai tilted his head.
"Yo… old man. You look like one of them statues people pray to."
Sir 8 didn't budge.
"Sit down," he said simply, his voice dry and carried by the breeze.
Kai scoffed but obeyed, plopping cross-legged onto the dirt. "What's this, yoga time?"
"Meditation," Sir 8 corrected. "You've got power locked inside you like a flood behind a dam. But you're all leaks. No control. This is how we fix it."
Kai rolled his eyes but closed them as instructed.
"Breathe," Sir 8 whispered. "In through the nose, out through the mouth. Let everything go. Listen for the sound of your soul."
They sat in silence. A long silence. The wind danced past them, tugging at the trees. A squirrel chirped in the distance. Kai scratched his neck, opened one eye, then closed it again.
"I don't hear anything," he muttered.
"Exactly. That's the point."
Time passed.
"Still nothing."
Sir 8 inhaled slowly, lips tight. "You're not listening."
"I am! I'm listening so hard, I can hear my stomach begging for food."
Sir 8 cracked an eye open. "Ignore it."
"You ignoring food is how you ended up homeless!"
The old man snorted, half amused, but didn't rise to the bait.
The hours dragged. Kai fidgeted, groaned, flopped onto his back, sat up, tried again, got distracted by a ladybug, then started humming to himself. Finally, he jolted upright and shouted, "Aha! I feel something!"
Sir 8's eyes opened. "What do you feel?"
"My butt falling asleep."
Sir 8 stood so fast Kai flinched. The old man stared at him with a patience thin as thread.
"You mock what could save your life," he said. "You think punching harder is enough. But it's the breath between punches that wins wars. The stillness before the strike. You're drowning in your own mind and too immature to notice."
Kai winced.
Sir 8 turned away and sat again. "We'll try tomorrow. Again. And again. Until you listen. Until you hear."
Kai watched the man's back, the way the wind curled around him like a respectful guest. For a moment, something in his chest stirred. Shame? Regret?
But then Kai grinned. "Alright, alright. I'll take it seriously tomorrow. Pinky promise."
Sir 8 didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Kai sighed and looked at the clouds. "Meditation sucks."
But he stayed. Quietly.
And the wind, ever faithful, kept whispering.