The sun hung high over Shimotsuki Village, its rays casting a golden glow upon the tiled rooftops and winding paths. A light breeze carried the distant scent of the sea mixed with the faint metallic tang of sharpened blades—a smell that lingered ever-present around the dojo.
The dojo courtyard buzzed with energy the next morning. Students polished their wooden swords, swept the training grounds, and adjusted their uniforms with nervous excitement. News of Hyogoro's arrival had spread through the village overnight, and the weight of hosting guests from the capital seemed to press upon every student of the Shimotsuki Dojo.
Zoro, however, sat cross-legged by the well, sharpening the edge of a practice sword with a whetstone as though it were a real blade. His eyes burned with impatience.
"Competition, rivals, guests… tch. Doesn't matter. I'll cut them down all the same."
"Zoro," Koushirou's calm voice carried from the veranda. "Patience. A true swordsman does not race ahead of the moment. Let the moment come to him."
Before Zoro could retort, a stir at the far gate signaled the arrival of their visitors. Hyogoro walked in front, his presence commanding respect without effort. Broad-shouldered with flame like light blue hair and a flame like goatee ,he wore round black glasses that stuck to his head tightly ,his very posture exuded strength tempered by decades of discipline. Behind him marched a group of students in crisp uniforms, each carrying themselves with the straight-backed pride of the capital.
Behind him trailed his students, each dressed in uniform training garb. Their postures were upright, disciplined, yet their eyes darted curiously at the village they had entered.
"Sensei," one of the younger students piped up as they passed the carved wooden sign bearing the village's name, Shimotsuki. The student had navy blue hair tied to a ponytail and he wore glasses . His name was Denjiro
"Does this place… have anything to do with that swordsman of legend we learned about? "
"Perhaps," he replied in a low, thoughtful voice. "Some say that he had descendants long ago and they decidedto settle here named it Shimotsuki village . Others claim the village was named after him, in honor of the day he saved this land from a great threat that threatened to bring the village down to the ground ." His eyes lingered on the quiet homes, the villagers pausing to greet the guests with polite bows and also taking a look at the wisteria that surrounded the village . It was beautiful
"History fades, but legacy remains. This village carries the weight of both."
The students exchanged awed glances, their imaginations stirred.
At the village gate, a local elder approached and bowed respectfully. "Welcome, Boss Hyogoro, honored students. Please allow me to lead the way . Koushirou-sama awaits your arrival."
The group followed through narrow paths, weaving between houses and gardens, until the wide wooden gates of the Shimotsuki Dojo came into view. Its training yard was filled with students, wooden swords in hand, standing in disciplined rows. At the front stood Koushirou, calm and composed, his glasses catching the sunlight. His students, including a restless young Zoro, lined up at his side.
At the veranda, Koushirou stepped forward, his students bowing at his side. He and Hyogoro locked eyes, years folding away in that single exchange. The silence stretched, thick with an unspoken history.
"Koushirou," Hyogoro said at last, his voice a rumbling chuckle. "I see you've grown even thinner. Life in the countryside must suit you."
"And you," Koushirou answered with a faint smile, "still carry yourself like the capital hasn't let you rest in decades. Tell me, old rival… do your students truly know what it means to hold a sword, or have you filled their heads with city airs?"
Laughter rippled through both sets of students, the tension loosening at their masters' playful barbs.
"Perhaps they'll find out soon enough," Hyogoro said.
"Perhaps," Koushirou agreed.
"So much talk for someone who's down one "Koushiro said with smirk
"Down one ? Age must be catching uo with you old man , because last i remember we are even ." Hyogoro said as he pulled at his flame like goatee.
"You must be the one getting old but that is of no matter because today we will jog your memory and you will be down two "Koushiro said as his fixed his glasses .
Gasps and whispers rippled through both groups of students, the tension brimming with excitement. Zoro, however, smirked, gripping the hilt of his practice sword tighter.
Long ago Koushiro and Hyogoro had 80 deuls with Koushirou winning 40 and Hyogoro also winning 40 of them leaving the score tied . Due to age catching up they couldn't duel like they use to in their youths so to fix this problem they began competing in other areas such as who would have the best school , who taught the greatest students. Even after all that the score remained a tie ,the only thing this proved was that they were both great swordsman and teachers .
Koushirou's eyes glinted with amusement. "Why don't we let our students decide that for us.?"
The weight of rivalry hung heavy, yet it was not bitter. It was the rivalry of men who once crossed swords and respected one another for it.
Just as the air seemed charged with anticipation, a moment of comic relief burst through.
The courtyard brimmed with anticipation. Students straightened their backs, eyes sharpening with competitive fire. Somewhere in that moment, it was no longer just a friendly meeting—it was a spark struck between two generations.
And then—
"Oi! Zoro, where do you think you're going?" one of Koushirou's students yelped, tugging at Zoro's sleeve.
"I'm not a kid who needs babysitting!" Zoro barked, trying to wrench his arm free.
"But you'll get lost again!" another chimed in. "Remember last month? You ended up three villages away—"
"That was one time!"
"Three times!"
The argument exploded comically, with half the dojo trying to anchor Zoro in place as though he were some wild animal breaking loose from its leash. Hyogoro's students blinked, then burst into laughter at the sight. Even Hyogoro himself let out a belly-deep laugh, shaking his head.
'Maybe if we also did that we wouldnt be running around looking for him ' Hyogoro and all his students thought at the same time
Koushirou only sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"And so begins our friendly competition."