A spring sky, impossibly blue. The sun sat high and still above it.
Outside the cabin, side by side, neither of us moving.
Sniffling from beside me. A hand moved to Toji's shoulder.
This was the place agreed upon during the meeting with Naobito—the main estate, the next step. But knowing that didn't make standing here any easier.
This cabin had held everything. The worst of it and the best of it, all layered into the same walls. Hunger and tears on one side, and on the other—Toji's laugh, heard for the first time. His voice, spoken for the first time. A body that had nearly died here, and a body that had been trained here to survive. The hardest moments of this entire life, and also the greatest progress.
Toji couldn't hold it anymore.
"WAAAAAHHHHH!!"
No words. Just a hand rubbing slow circles on his back, letting it come out.
Several minutes passed. The crying eventually softened into sniffling.
"Sniff… Big brother… sniff… I don't want to leave."
"I know, Toji. But we have to." Arms pulled him in close. "Stay strong, brat. We'll come back one day. I promise you."
One last look at the cabin—no. At our home.
Then both of us walked away, hearts heavier than our feet.
---
Narator
The escort this time was someone new entirely—a young man in combat attire rather than the usual attendants. White kimono top, black ninja pants, traditional sandals. A Kukuru member, unmistakably.
The Kukuru was one of the Zen'in clan's main mobile units—composed entirely of people without innate techniques, as opposed to the Hei, which gathered the elite with unique abilities. The Hei numbered fifteen at most, leaving the Akashi and the Kukuru as the clan's primary fighting forces. And it was the Kukuru that Zoro and Toji were about to join.
Naobito had ordered one of their members to bring them to the training grounds.
He led them forward without a word. Not a single one the entire way—except for a look he'd given them in the first few seconds. A long stare, followed by barely concealed contempt.
'Already? It hasn't even been thirty seconds.'
But no direct insult came. He simply walked, and they followed.
The clan grounds stretched out around them as they went deeper in. Toji's gaze moved constantly, taking in everything—the changing scenery, the scale of it all. Zoro was less openly affected, though six years without seeing anything new had left its mark. Brief wonder, quickly suppressed.
What suppressed it was the cursed energy.
The deeper they went, the more of it there was—more people carrying it, more of it pressing outward into the air. The sensation was like breathing something foul.
Observation Haki stayed active, range pulled back to ten meters to manage the mental load, but the drain was already there and building.
'At this rate, fifteen hours before needing to rest—assuming no Armament Haki. No idea how long training will run. Have to hope it's enough.'
Nearly ten minutes of walking, and then the Kukuru training grounds came into view.
The field was full. A large open space centered on an arena of white tiles where fighters moved through drills and sparring. Training weapons lined the perimeter—katanas, naginatas, axes, hammers. Toji's eyes went wide.
"Woah!!"
Further out, beyond the main area, the weapons changed. No wood. Real blades, real weight, some of them stained.
A figure broke away from the field and approached. His attire was different from the others—a white ceremonial suit rather than standard combat gear. The appearance matched what memory held of the current Kukuru leader.
"You've arrived. Nobuaki, return to training."
"Yes, Chief."
The leader looked at them the same way Nobuaki had. The difference was he didn't bother keeping it to himself.
"What is the clan head thinking, sending me trash like this?"
The frown made his displeasure visible to everyone present.
"Has the Kukuru become a zoo?"
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The entire field went quiet.
A look of pure disgust. One hand raised to cover his mouth, as though even facing them directly was an indignity.
"I don't understand what scum like you are doing here, but orders are orders." A finger pointed toward a building resembling locker rooms. "No uniforms in your size—and it would be an insult for people like you to wear them anyway. Train as you are."
He didn't stay. A murmured word to Nobuaki, and he was gone.
Both of them walked onto the field without breaking stride.
The stares followed. Smirks were already forming on several faces nearby.
Toji felt it—the weight of all those eyes, the intent behind them. Every instinct in him pulled toward showing something. But Zoro had told him, again and again: never show weakness in this clan. The poker face held.
The gazes didn't land the same way on Zoro. What registered instead was the intent beneath them.
'We haven't been here ten minutes and they're already planning something. Just how rotten is this place?'
Everything stayed behind a calm expression.
Thirty minutes of warmup running. Feet were placed in their path more than once, casually, as though by accident. Every one of them avoided cleanly.
Stretching. Then a move toward the arena.
Three steps in, and two figures blocked the way.
"What do you think you're doing, newbies?"
Nobuaki. And someone unidentified beside him.
"Trash walks in here and acts like they own the place? Who authorized you to train?" A pause, and then the real direction of this became clear. "Actually—there's something I need to confirm."
He was looking for confrontation. No point in making him work for it.
"Let's skip the performance." The voice came out flat, just short of irritable. "You want to know if we actually have no cursed energy. We don't. Born with a complete Heavenly Restriction, both of us."
The words carried across the field. Shock, then laughter—immediate and collective. Nobuaki the loudest of all.
"Hahaha!! Now I understand why the chief called you monkeys. You don't even deserve to be called human."
It went on for several minutes. When the laughter finally faded, what replaced it was simpler and uglier.
"I heard the clan head sent you here personally. But monkeys like you don't deserve that kind of consideration."
Something sharp entered his eyes.
"Actually—I think I understand exactly why he sent you."
The killing intent that radiated from him after that was unmistakable. Several people on the field leaned in slightly, sensing what was coming.
"He sent you so we could get rid of you quietly." The smile that followed was darker than anything that had come before. "We'll be happy to follow those orders."
Nobuaki lunged at Zoro. The other moved toward Toji simultaneously.
Nobody on the field intervened. If anything, the atmosphere sharpened with anticipation.
The result was not what any of them were expecting.
CRACK!
A bone breaking. The sound rang out clearly across the arena.
Not Zoro's.
One strike.
Only one.
And Nobuaki's nose was shattered.