[Isshin Dojo]
"Welcome to my dojo. Please, make yourselves comfortable," Koushirou said with a kind smile, his voice calm and composed.
Ezra D. Vale withdrew his gaze from the wooden plaque above the door and stepped into the dojo. The faint scent of tatami mats and polished wood filled the air, evoking a quiet, disciplined atmosphere.
"This is the kendo room," Koushirou continued, gesturing toward the open hall. "It's where I usually teach the children."
"The guest room is at the back, facing the sea. The view is quite beautiful this time of day."
As he spoke, Koushirou led the three of them Ezra, Hina, and the wounded Mihawk toward the back of the dojo. The sea breeze drifted in through the open shoji doors, bringing with it the distant cry of gulls.
He set two cups of hot tea in front of Ezra and Hina before speaking again. "Please, give me a moment. I'll treat this young man's injuries first."
He opened a first aid kit, carefully disinfecting and stitching Mihawk's wound. The gash ran from the young man's left shoulder to his right abdomen, a wound so deep that even Koushirou a man seasoned by years of experience couldn't help but frown.
The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of thread passing through flesh.
After a long while, Koushirou finally exhaled, putting away the needle and bandages. He sat down beside Ezra and Hina, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. "Phew… Vice Admiral Ezra, your swordsmanship truly lives up to its reputation."
Ezra scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Haha, I might've gone a little too far. Still, thank you, Koushirou, for tending to him."
Koushirou smiled faintly. "You're too polite. But if I may guess, you came all the way to Shimotsuki Village not for sightseeing, but for a sparring match, correct?"
Ezra nodded. "That's right, Koushirou."
Adjusting his glasses, Koushirou said humbly, "But I'm just a nameless swordsman. Surely I'm not worthy of a Vice Admiral's challenge?"
Ezra laughed heartily. "Come now, Koushirou. A man of the Shimotsuki family could never be called nameless. Your reputation as a swordsman precedes you."
Koushirou's expression faltered slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes. He hadn't expected Ezra to know that part of his lineage. His gaze drifted for a moment, a hint of nostalgia passing through his calm demeanor.
"Those are stories long past," he murmured. "There's no need to bring them up again."
He set his cup down gently. "But if it's a match you want, I'm afraid it'll have to wait until tomorrow. I've already used quite a bit of energy treating that young man."
Ezra nodded in understanding. "That's fine. I can wait."
"If you don't mind," Koushirou offered, "you may stay here for the night."
Ezra smiled. "Then I'll gladly take you up on that offer."
Koushirou waved his hand lightly. "You're welcome here anytime."
Just then, a soft, sweet voice called out from behind them.
"Papa~!"
Koushirou turned around, his expression melting into warmth. "Guina, come here. These two are Father's friends. Come and greet them."
A little girl, no older than two and a half, toddled over on short, chubby legs. Her round cheeks flushed with shyness as she stood before Ezra and Hina.
"Hello, Brother, hello, Sister! My name is Guina. I'm two and a half!"
Hina's eyes sparkled instantly.
"Oh my gosh, Guina, you're so adorable!"
The little girl tilted her head shyly and smiled. "You're so pretty, Sister!"
Hina chuckled, her face glowing with affection. "Thank you, Guina. Ah... if only someone else thought I was this pretty too."
Ezra froze. "...Do you really have to bring that up again?"
Hina grinned, obviously amused by his reaction.
That night passed quietly. Crickets sang beyond the sliding doors, and the ocean's rhythm blended with the whisper of the wind. For the first time in a long while, Ezra slept soundly.
When dawn came, the sound of bamboo swords slicing through the air filled the courtyard.
Ezra stepped outside, finding Koushirou already dressed in his training attire, his movements steady and precise as the bamboo sword danced through the morning mist.
"Good morning, Vice Admiral," Koushirou greeted, lowering his sword. "Did you sleep well?"
Ezra smiled. "It's been a long time since I fell asleep to the sound of insects. I haven't rested that well in years."
Koushirou nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. "That's good to hear. Now then... shall we have that match?"
At those words, Ezra's lips curved upward. He stepped forward, drawing Ryūjin Jakka from his waist. The blade shimmered faintly, heat rippling in the cool morning air.
Koushirou set aside his bamboo sword and reached for the katana resting beside him the famed Wadō Ichimonji.
"Koushirou," Ezra said, adjusting his grip, "you don't need to call me Vice Admiral. Just call me Ezra."
Koushirou blinked. "Are you sure?"
Ezra nodded. "Of course."
"Then... let's begin, Ezra."
The instant the words left his mouth, Ezra vanished from sight.
Steel met steel in a blur of motion.
Slash, thrust, parry Ezra unleashed the full power of the swordsmanship he had inherited from the Captain-Commander himself.
Koushirou's expression hardened, surprise flashing in his eyes, but his body moved instinctively. His every motion was precise, efficient, deflecting Ezra's attacks without wasting the slightest movement.
The clash of blades echoed through the courtyard, each strike testing the other's limits.
Nearby, Hina held little Guina in her arms, watching the fight unfold. "They're amazing..." she whispered.
"They are indeed," came a low, calm voice beside her.
Startled, Hina turned to see Mihawk awake, his face pale but his eyes burning with sharp excitement.
"So that's how he blocked it," Mihawk muttered to himself. "That angle... ruthless. Wait he can counter from there too?"
Hina sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "A sword-obsessed maniac... and so loud. Hina's really starting to regret saving you."
In the courtyard, the two swordsmen suddenly leapt apart, widening the distance between them.
Ezra twirled his blade lightly, his eyes calm and steady. "That should do for a warm-up, don't you think?"
Koushirou adjusted his glasses, smiling faintly. "I was just about to say the same thing."
A gust of sea wind swept across the dojo, rustling the trees.
Koushirou's eyes gleamed with sharp focus as he shifted his stance. His aura grew sharper, his presence heavier.
"One-Sword Style Iai: Lion Song!"
The blade flashed, and the world seemed to fall silent just before the roar of steel shattered the stillness of morning.
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