A full month had passed since Ryu first set foot in Shimotsuki Village. The days flowed like a steady river, each one sharpening him in ways he never expected.
From the moment he crossed paths with Koshiro and Kouzaburou, his journey had taken a decisive turn.
After suffering defeat at Koshiro's hands in their spar, a strange blaze ignited deep within him—fierce, unyielding, and impossible to define. It wasn't mere frustration, nor simple determination… it was something far greater.
Like an untamed blaze roaring deep within his soul, it drove him onward—relentless and unyielding—forcing him to train harder, push further, and shatter his limit again and again.
From that day, Ryu sought out the village's blacksmith and had him forge weights heavier than anything he had worn before. With a quiet resolve burning in his eyes, he fastened them onto his body—arms, legs, even around his waist—until every movement felt like wading through an unseen storm.
Yet, Ryu didn't falter.
Every morning, once his stomach was full, Ryu would set his sights on the mountain that loomed at the edge of the village. With unwavering resolve, he made that climb his daily ritual while wearing his new weights—step by step, day by day—pushing his body beyond its limits.
Under the blazing sun he trained his swordsmanship relentlessly. Each step carved into the earth, each swing carried the weight of his resolve. Sweat poured like rain, his muscles screamed in protest—but his spirit only roared louder.
Each night, once the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in fiery shades of orange and crimson, Ryu would make his way toward Koshiro's house—his body exhausted, but his spirit burning brighter than ever.
With sweat still clinging to his skin and his muscles crying out from the day's merciless training, Ryu would still make his way to stand before Koshiro—without fail. His chest rose and fell heavily, yet his eyes remained sharp, burning with an unshakable resolve.
No words were needed.
The moment their gazes met, the air itself seemed to tighten.
Then—like clashing waves in a storm—their spar would begin.
With each clash of steel beneath the fading sun, Ryu's swordsmanship sharpened at a terrifying pace. Every spar against Koshiro became a stepping stone, every strike refined, every misstep corrected almost instantly—his instinct were getting sharper and sharper with every exchange between them.
Koshiro stood firm, parrying and observing, but behind his calm expression, a storm brewed. Never in all his years had he witnessed such explosive growth. It wasn't just talent… it was something far more monstrous.
"Hm…" Koshiro exhaled softly, pushing Ryu back with a precise strike, his glasses catching the glint of the evening light. 'To think someone could evolve this quickly…'
For a fleeting moment, a rare emotion crept into his heart—envy.
Yet it wasn't bitter. It was the kind that only a true swordsman could feel… the quiet acknowledgment of witnessing a blade that had a potential of reaching great heights.
Ryu tightened his grip, eyes blazing with determination, unaware of the thoughts crossing his Koshiro's mind.
And as their swords clashed once more, they heard footsteps approaching.
"TAP!, TAP!, TAP!, TAP!"
Both of them snapped their heads toward the sound of approaching footsteps—and saw Kouzaburou walking toward them.
He strode forward with a wide smile stretched across his face while carrying a long sabre in his right hand.
Ryu's eyes lit up the moment he spotted Kouzaburou approaching.
Koshiro, however, frowned in confusion. "Father… you've never forged a sabre before. You always craft katanas, why did you decided to forge a Sabre this time?"
Kouzaburou laughed loudly his laughter was filled with joy he was in a very good mood.
"I wanted to try something different…It's a shame I couldn't rival that old geezer's finest creation. But this… this little one…" His eyes narrowed with pride as he lifted the Sabre slightly.
"…has surpassed even Enma. The greatest katana I ever forged."
Koshiro was shocked upon hearing this but Ryu was confused and he asked.
"Little one? What are you talking about old man?"
Kouzaburou smiled at Ryu and he patiently started explaining to him.
"Listen up, kid. I don't know if that senile old geezer Musashi ever bothered to drill this into your head… but as a swordsman, as a samurai, there's one thing you must never forget."
His gaze sharpened, voice lowering with weight.
"Every sword had it's own personality especially the Mieto rank swords."
"Some are proud, almost arrogant—refusing to acknowledge any hand that dares reach for them. Others are vicious and unruly, resisting every attempt to be controlled. And there are even those that won't ever truly submit…"
"…until the swordsman proves, beyond doubt, that they are worthy to wield their edge."
"The best example? My finest katana… Enma," he said, his voice carrying a quiet pride. "That katana alone is already a beast to tame. And alongside it… the three Ketitsu blades? Hah. Most men die horrible death trying to control them."
"This sabre… your new blade," he said with a grin, holding it up to Ryu. "Its name is Chi Hime… the Blood Princess."
The blade seemed to hum faintly, as if it were listening.
"She's got a vicious temper," he continued, eyes narrowing with amusement, "a real nasty personality… but don't be fooled. She's a beauty. And she knows it."
"She's a very picky blade," he said, voice low and serious. "Not just anyone can wield her… so you better be careful."
"Chi Hime… my first cursed blade that I ever succeeded in forging," Kouzaburou said, eyes gleaming with pride. "A newly born Meito of great grade… if only I had more of Wano's pure water metal, I might've had a chance to raise it all the way to a Supreme Grade sword."
He sighed but his smile never left his face.
"Truth be told, kid… I'm satisfied with how it turned out. Take it—try it for yourself. But be careful… ."
Ryu gave a slow, resolute nod. Without a word, he stepped forward, the weight of anticipation heavy in his stride.
His hand reached out—firm, unwavering—and closed around the hilt of Chi Hime.
The moment Kouzaburou released it, the air seemed to shift.
Ryu sensed a malicious intent erupted from Chi Hime, heavy and venomous, as if the very blade itself was grinning with hunger—its bloodlust pressing down on the air.
Ryu didn't flinch.
Not even a shadow of intimidation crossed his face as he held the sabre's hilt . Instead, his gaze sharpened—quiet, focused, almost hungry with curiosity.
He lifted the Sabre slowly, bringing it close to his eyes, studying it as though it were a living thing rather than forged steel.
"…Interesting," he murmured under his breath.
Not fear. Not hesitation.
Just interest—deep and unshaken..
Its sheath gleamed like freshly spilled crimson, rich and deep, while elegant black linings curled across it like shadows dancing over blood—both beautiful… and ominous.
The sabre longer than most of its kind and moderately curve. A jet-black crossguard stretched boldly from its base, paired with a wide yet thin guard that wrapped the hilt like a silent sentinel—it had presence, the kind that made seasoned swordsmen pause on their tracks.
It's hilt was tapped in crimson blood color tap.
Without a moment's hesitation, Ryu drew the sabre in one fluid motion—but the instant the blade tasted air, a monstrous surge of malicious intent crashed into his mind like a tidal wave. His grip tightened, veins bulging, as an overwhelming killing aura erupted from him, spiraling out of control as if the blade itself had awakened something dark within his soul.
'KILL!, KILL!, KILL!, KILL!, KILL!'
The moment that suffocating killing intent burst forth from Ryu, Koshiro's instincts screamed.
Without a second thought, he seized his father and pulled him behind his back in one swift motion. His calm demeanor vanished—replaced by a sharp, cutting focus. Behind the glint of his glasses, his eyes narrowed, locking onto Ryu like a blade drawn from its sheath.
A quiet shift of his feet.
A measured breath.
Koshiro lowered his center of gravity, his stance firm and unyielding, the air around him turning heavy with resolve. This was no longer a spar… this was a line drawn in the sand.
If Ryu took even a single step further—
He would strike him down without hesitation.
But just as the tension was about to snap, Kouzaburou casually raised his hand and gave Koshiro a firm pat on the back—calm, steady, and commanding.
It was a simple gesture… yet it carried the weight of a father's authority, halting Koshiro in his tracks.
"Hold on, Koshiro… just watch closely. If that senile old fool Musashi's blood truly flows through that brat's veins… then there's no doubt about it—he'll bend Chi Hime to his will and conquer her!"
Koshiro's brows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his calm expression as those words reached his ears. He turned his gaze toward his father—only to find the old man already staring straight at Ryu.
There was nothing playful in that look.
Kouzaburou's eyes were sharp… steady… brimming with absolute confidence.
Koshiro gave a small unnoticeable smile and nodded his head.
In that very instant, Ryu's gaze snapped toward Koshiro and Kouzaburou—his eyes blazing like a storm. The air grew heavy as his killing intent surged wildly, spiraling higher and higher like a raging tempest at them.
He stepped forward towards them.
—but then—
His foot froze mid-motion.
Ryu's body trembled as he clenched his jaw, teeth grinding so hard it echoed faintly. Veins pulsed along his temples, his will clashing against the monstrous intent boiling within him, as if he were wrestling a beast that threatened to break free at any moment.
"No… this ain't right… this isn't me!" Ryu snarled, his voice rough like steel scraping against stone. His grip trembled as he stared at his own hands, veins pulsing with a violent urge he couldn't understand.
"I won't deny it—I live for the thrill of battle… I crave it!" he admitted, teeth clenched hard enough to crack. "But this… this madness… cutting people down like they're nothing?!"
His eyes burned with defiance as he fought against the killing intent, step by step.
"That's not who I am!!"
In that very moment, Ryu's voice erupted from the very depths of his soul, a thunderous roar that shook the air itself, echoing with raw emotion and unyielding spirit!
"GET OFF MY HEAD, YOU DAMN BASTARD!! THIS—THIS ISN'T WHO I AM!!"
The words tore out like a storm, raw and unrestrained, as veins bulged and rage twisted through every fiber of his being. The air itself seemed to tremble under the weight of his voice, sharp enough to split the silence apart.
"SSSHHHNNGG!"
At the same time, an invisible, majestic force erupted from his body like a tidal surge.
Koshiro's eyes snapped wide open in shock—
But Kouzaburou only let out a faint, knowing smirk, as if he had been expecting it all along.
"That… the King's Haki…!"
Koshiro's voice dropped to a whisper, almost swallowed by the pressure crushing the air itself.
"Haoshoku Haki…"
His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as the unseen force rolled over like a storm surge. Even seasoned warriors would have faltered under it—an overwhelming presence that didn't strike the body, but the very will to stand.
"So this is it…" he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening. "That suffocating pressure… no mistake about it. I'm witnessing it firsthand for the first time…"
A broad grin split across Kouzaburou's face, his eyes suddenly lighting up with a fierce satisfaction and approval.
"...Just like that old fool Musashi," he muttered under his breath, a crooked grin tugging at his lips, "the brat's gone inherited his spirit."
Upon hearing this Koshiro turned to Kouzaburou and asked.
"Musashi-sama had it as well?"
Kouzaburou gave a slow, measured nod, but no words left his lips. His gaze stayed fixed ahead at Ryu.
After the burst of Haoshoku Haki vanished Ryu suddenly staggered and dropped down on one knee.
"HUFF!, HUFF!, What the hell was that?"
Kouzaburou's lips curled into a calm, knowing smile as he began to walk forward, each step unhurried and calm.
"I told you, kid," Kouzaburou said with a grin, his eyes never leaving the sabre. "Chi Hime has a nasty personality."
"Before you can ever hope to master it… you must first understand Chi Hime. Only then will it acknowledge you."
His smile sharpened slightly.
"Only then will you be worthy of wielding it."
Ryu's eyes sharpened at Kouzaburou's words, the air around him growing heavier with a suffocating edge of intent.
Then, slowly… a grin twisted across his face.
A bloodthirsty smirk—like a predator finally shown the shape of its prey.
He lifted the sabre before his eyes, the blade catching the light as if it too were alive, as if it were staring back at him.
"…Heh."
Chi Hime's blade is longer than the average sabre, it carried itself with a quiet, predatory elegance—its curve only slightly pronounced, like a smile that never fully revealed its intent. The steel seemed to breathe with a faint crimson glow along the edge, a flame-like hamon that flickered as if fire had been trapped beneath the surface of the blade itself.
Ryu couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of Chi Hime.
He slowly pushed himself back to his feet, eyes closing as he drew in a long, steady breath, forcing the chaos in his mind to settle after everything he had just endured.
Ryu's eyes snapped open. For a brief moment, his gaze sharpened to a razor's edge as he narrowed them, as if trying to pierce through the lingering haze clouding his mind.
Then, just as quickly, he shook his head, forcing the sensation away..
'…Tch… must've been my imagination.'
'After everything I just went through… it's only natural. I'm just… exhausted.'
Ryu smiled toward Koshiro and Kouzaburou, the tension in the air finally easing. In one smooth motion, he slid Chi Hime back into its crimson sheath—click—the sound was crisp.
"Kouzaburou-dono… thank you for Chi Hime," Ryu said, gripping the crimson-sheathed blade with reverence. "I swear I'll treat it with care… I'll treasure it, and master it completely."
His eyes sharpened with determination as a faint, dangerous glint flickered within them.
"I won't let this sword go to waste."
Kouzaburou chuckled softly and nodded his head.
"You better, brat," Kouzaburou growled, eyes sharp as forged steel. "Chi Hime is the final Meito I will ever forge with my own hands."
His voice dropped, heavy with conviction.
"If you fail to master it… I will chase you to the ends of the world myself—just to beat the hell out of you."
Ryu chuckled and nodded.
He then looked at Koshiro and bowed.
"Koshiro-san… I'm grateful for all those sparring sessions. I've learned a lot from you. I wouldn't have improved this much without your help."
Koshiro smiled softly and nodded his head.
"You've got great potential, Ryu-kun," he said, his voice calm but heavy with conviction. "But don't let that strength swell into arrogance. Always follow your heart.."
A faint grin tugged at his lips as he looked him over.
"I have high hopes for your future… as a swordsman."
Kouzaburou then grabbed his pipe and lit up the tobacco.
"So kid, when you are leaving to the West Blue?"
Ryu smiled and replied.
"Tomorrow morning old man, I stayed long enough here it is time for me to leave."
"CLAP!"
Koshiro clapped his hand together upon hearing this and said.
"Well, in that case, you better come to my place for dinner. We might not get a chance like this again for a long time."
Ryu smiled softly and nodded his head.
"It will be my pleasure Koshiro-san."
Koshiro turned on his heel without a word, the hem of his robe swaying gently as he began to walk back toward his house. While Ryu and Kouzaburou trailed behind him.
_______
Next Morning
Koshiro and Kouzaburou stood firm at the edge of the dock, their robes fluttering in the salty breeze as the sea stretched endlessly before them.
Out on the departing ship, Ryu leaned against the railing, the wind tugging at his long hair as a wide, fearless grin spread across his face. His eyes gleamed with excitement and resolve, locking onto the two figures Infront of him..
"Take care of yourselves!" he called out, his voice carrying over the crashing waves.
Kouzaburou scoffed with a crooked grin, while Koshiro simply smiled, calm yet proud.
Kouzaburou looked sternly at Ryu and yelled.
"Oi, brat… you better take damn good care of Chi Hime."
Kouzaburou's voice dropped, heavy as iron, his grin sharp enough to cut steel.
"If even a scratch shows up on her… I swear I'll drag myself back from the afterlife just to haunt you!"
A dark chuckle escaped him, eyes gleaming with a craftsman's pride—and a demon's promise.
"Even as a ghost… I'll make your life a living hell."
Ryu chuckled softly and nodded his head.
"Old man, quit your worrying already!" Ryu flashed a fearless grin, resting his hand on the hilt at his side. "I'll treat her like the most beautiful, charming lady in all the seas… with all the care she deserves!"
Kouzaburou smiled and nodded his head in satisfaction.
Ryu then turned to Willy and said.
"Captain, let's go."
Willy smiled he turned to his men and yelled.
"Alright men let's set sail."
The disguised merchant vessel creaked as it began its quiet departure from Shimotsuki Village, its hull cutting gently through the waves. The crew moved with practiced ease, hauling down the sails without a word.
Bit by bit, the ship drifted farther from the familiar shores—until the mist swallowed its silhouette whole, leaving nothing behind but the faint echo of the sea… and the feeling that something far greater had just set sail.
Kouzaburou let out a quiet, knowing chuckle, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile as he turned his back without another word. With slow, steady steps, he began to walk away from the dock, his presence calm yet imposing. Behind him, Koshiro followed in silence, his gaze lingering for a moment before he, too, turned and trailed after his father—both figures gradually fading into the distance as the sea breeze whispered through the air.
"Father… you're in a surprisingly good mood today," Koshiro said with a faint, knowing smile, his glasses catching the glint of the sun. "But I doubt it's just because you finally forged a cursed blade… am I right?"
A quiet breeze passed between them, carrying the scent of steel and sea—yet beneath Koshiro's calm tone, there was a sharp curiosity.
Kouzaburou chuckled softly and shook his head.
"Heh… that brat's personality just like that old geezer Musashi!" Kouzaburou barked with a wide, nostalgic grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Guess it makes sense… the old fool raised him, after all!"
He let out a rough chuckle, shaking his head as memories flickered through his mind like sparks from a forge.
"Seeing him like that… takes me back," he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Back to the days when me and Musashi ran wild—causing chaos wherever we went, not a care in the world!"
Koshiro laughed a little when he heard this and said.
"You need not trouble yourself over Ryu-kun, Father…" Koshiro said with a calm smile, his eyes gleaming with quiet admiration. "Truth be told… I envy him. I've never seen anyone with such raw, terrifying potential."
He turned his gaze toward the horizon, as if already picturing the storms to come.
"Now that he's setting foot into the real world… he won't just grow—" his smile sharpened slightly, "—he'll evolve at a rate that'll leave everyone else in the dust."
"Heh… not every day I hear words like that from you, Koshiro," Kouzaburou let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with quiet intrigue. "For you to praise someone so highly… that brat must be something special."
Koshiro turned his head and looked seriously at Kouzaburou.
"Father… it's true, I've only spared with Ryu-kun for a month… but each clash—each strike—he grows sharper!" Koshiro's voice carried a rare edge of awe as his glasses caught the fading light.
"I've never witnessed anything like it… his swordsmanship evolves in the heat of battle itself. It's as if every swing carves him into something greater…"
"One day he might become the greatest swordsman in the world."
Kouzaburou widened his eyes upon hearing this then he chuckled.
"Heh… interesting," he muttered under his breath, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes like a drawn blade.
"Then we'll just have to keep a close eye on that brat."
A faint grin tugged at his lips.
"That little Ryu… I wonder what kind of storm he'll stir up next."
Koshiro chuckled and nodded his head then the both kept walking back to the village.
_________