How did it come to this?
In a humble home, three people sat on the floor, gathered around a small wooden table.
Budō coughed. "So… yes. Allow me to introduce you two."
He pointed toward his daughter, who was blushing furiously and looking away.
"This is my daughter, Mikan. She's been a Martial Apprentice for about two years now… turning twenty-one next spring."
"Nice to meet ya," she said in a tiny voice.
"…Ehem." Budō straightened. "Mikan, this is Lord Hideyoshi Toyotomi. He is a Noble from the Kinzoku Clan."
Toyotomi still had the biggest smile plastered across his face.
"You flatter me too much, father-in-law! The pleasure is all mine!" He reached out his hand eagerly. "Mikan… what a beautiful name!"
She hesitated, then timidly shook just his pinky finger.
He immediately seized both her hands, cupping them warmly in his own.
"Tell me about your martial path! And also, Mikan, are you seeing anyone?"
"Uh—well, it's Mobile Pressure… and no, I don't know, maybe? No—hehe…" she said nervously.
CRASH.
Everyone froze.
A sharp trace of killing intent rippled through the room.
They turned toward the sound.
"Oh dear," Nashi said mildly, staring at the shattered pottery and spilled food. "How clumsy of me. How could I have dropped that?"
She was smiling, yes, but the air around her felt heavy, oppressive, dark.
"Was it just me," she continued softly, "or did I hear someone refer to you as father-in-law, dear?"
"…That's not possible, right?"
Budō was already on his feet.
"C-calm down, dear," he whispered urgently. "Let's… let's talk about this outside, okay?"
"…Fine." Nashi smiled again. "Apologies for my rudeness."
She bowed politely to Hideyoshi.
The wooden door slid open, cool air rushing inside as they stepped out into the yard.
"Dear, I'm telling you," Budō started, "Lord Toyotomi is a nice young man. He's not like other nob—"
CRACK.
Budō moved instantly.
Rubble and pebbles flew past them as he stepped in front of Nashi, shielding her with his body. Stones clattered harmlessly to the ground.
"Who did that?!" Budō growled.
Then he turned.
His jaw dropped.
"Who is it?" Nashi asked.
It was their son.
Merun stood in the yard, gripping the collar of an unconscious young man in a dougi.
Unfortunately… that man looked very familiar.
…Wasn't that the nobleman Mikan had knocked out earlier?
"…Merun," Budō said weakly.
The boy turned his head. "Ah. Father! Mother!"
He let go.
The man hit the ground with a dull thud, his weapon buried deep in the soil.
Merun glanced at his parents' stunned expressions and scratched the back of his head.
"…Oh. This?" he said sheepishly. "I can explain!"
———
Hmm… somehow I get the feeling that goody-two-shoes guy is really strong.
Despite that stupid smile of his, his presence feels… familiar.
Weird.
They invited me inside for tea, buuut I think my plans are way better.
"Ugh… where am I?"
"Why am I facing the ground?!"
Oh. He's awake.
"You're awake, sleepyhead!" I say cheerfully.
He seethes. "Get off me!"
I cross my legs. Then my arms.
"Hmmm… let me think about it…"
"What was it you wanted again?"
He pushed himself up with me sitting on his back like it's nothing.
Then he twists and drives an elbow at me.
Hmm. Alright. I'll dodge.
From my seated position, I hop up, avoid the strike, then land back on his back with both feet.
I stand there. Piccolo-style.
Damn. If only there were onlookers.
They'd be like, aura!. Or something.
Mental note: ask the craftsman for a white cape.
Okay, I should probably stop messing with him. He looks like he's about to erupt.
I jump off and land nearby.
Ignoring his red-hot face, I ask, "So what's your name, uncle?"
"FUCKING PEASANT! We're the same age! Sixteen!" he bellows.
I'm still eleven, though.
Well… my body does look older. Maybe mid-teens.
I kind of look like Gohan during the Cell saga. Except my hair goes all the way down to my tail.
Also, it's weird he's more offended by being called old than by the whole sitting-on-his-back thing.
Honestly? For a sixteen-year-old, he looks like he's worked customer service for ten years.
"Alright," I say. "So what's up, uncle?"
He's huffing now. Veins bulging.
I walk up and poke his forehead.
"Calm down there, old man. You're starting to look like a tomato!"
"ENOUGH!"
He rushes me.
A flurry of punches tears through the air. Each strike makes it shriek. None land—but I still hear them whip past like bullets.
…This guy's surprisingly good.
"Are you trying to tickle me, uncle?"
"RAAAAAAH!"
He looks even angrier.
His attacks keep coming.
No doubt about it though, he's getting faster. Stronger. Sharper.
But to me?
It's like... watching cars in a parking lot.
Slow. Predictable.
While moving, I catch something in my peripheral vision.
Oh.
I have an idea!
———
WHY. AREN'T. MY. ATTACKS. LANDING?!
THIS PEASANT IS SLIPPERY??
THIS ISN'T NORMAL!
HOW COULD THIS BE?!
IF ONLY I HAD MY WEAPON—
My weapon.
…My Onyx Tiger Masakari.
BASTARD.
HE KEEPS CALLING ME OLD.
ME?
KATSUI SHIBATA?
A NOBLE OF THE SHIBATA LINE?!
TOYED WITH BY A COUNTRYSIDE PEASANT?!
UNFORGIVABLE.
Should I use that?
…
No.
Not yet.
I force my breathing to steady.
There's no reason to be angry at a peasant. Father said they don't know any better. The maids at the estate always called me "young master," didn't they?
He's just ignorant.
Just look at that smug smile.
…I'll pretend I'm tired. And well he falls for it, then I end this quickly.
Then—
The brat picks something up.
With his tail.
…He's handing it to me?
That's—
"your walking stick," he says. "Isn't it yours, old man?"
My Masakari.
"BASTARD! DARE YOU DESECRATE MY PRECIOUS ONYX TIGER MASAKARI?!"
————
Oh. Finally.
I stare at his unwrapped weapon.
Long shaft. Orange wood. Gold engravings twisting along its length.
Green horsetail hair tied beneath the axe head.
The blade itself is onyx black. One side thick and brutal, the other shaped like a floral motif.
…Beautiful.
Then the air changes.
He's still angry, I can tell... but now it's focused.
Condensed.
My tail shivers.
I leap aside.
SLICE.
A deep gash tears through the ground as thick as a full grown man.
Tail shiver again.
I duck.
But he stops mid-swing.
Instead, he drives a punch into me—using the bottom end of his axe.
I raise my guard.
I slide back several meters.
Holy shit.
Steam rises from where his fist hit my forearms.
…Yeah. He's the real deal.
Either my tail didn't warn me in time or the strike wasn't meant to kill.
Gotta test that later.
"…You," he growls. "Who are you? How did you block that?"
"Well, you see," I say cheerfully, "if you raise your arms like this, you can protect your body from strikes!"
"Cut the foolishness!" he roars. "I am a peak Martial Apprentice! I refuse to believe you are some rural kid. Which clan do you belong to?!"
I shrug. "I dunno. Make me talk. Old man."
He laughs.
Veins bulge. Muscles swell.
His eyes turn bloodshot.
A red aura flares around him.
…Ah. there it is.
So this old uncle grandpa is a Divine Arsenal user.
"I see you recognize this technique," Katsui Shibata says.
He demonstrates—each swing sending gales powerful enough to topple trees.
"First," he continues calmly, "I will beat you to near death. Perhaps remove that tail of yours."
"Nooo! Please don't!" I clutch my tail dramatically.
"…Second," he says, voice cold, "I will find the girl who knocked me out… and take her home with me."
—
What.
The fuck.
Did this fucker just say?