1 Mikoto's present: Part 1

An iron sword was being swung relentlessly, and the poor target it has chosen was struggling to keep up. Sparks and sounds followed two blades, from the knees to the necks, and up in the sky. When the iron sword flashed once again, an older opponent ducked, and hit it from underneath. The sword went flying. The hand that was holding the sword went flying with it, carrying away the shoulder and the body. An older opponent raised his weapon above his head to strike once and for all. Younger one loosened his grip to stop the momentum, and the sword almost fell from his hands. He squatted, and fell for his right knee. The blade was aimed for the waist of a long figure. When both blades came closer to flesh, a person kicked the younger one on his chest, and stopped the older one's blade.

'What are you doing?! It's a sparring, not a duel,' said the person, 'You've almost killed your sensei.'

'I would've stopped right before my blade would touch him,' Ichiro responded, getting up from the ground.

'No, you wouldn't.'

'Yes, I would.'

Mitsuki calmed down.

'I can't afford to risk,' he said almost whispering, 'There is nothing more we can teach you. From now on, you will train on your own.'

Ichiro walked away. Tenko put his blade back to the scabbard.

'You know, he wasn't strong.'

'Sorry?'

'The day he first arrived, he wasn't strong at all. He couldn't even hold a wooden sword properly. His posture was off, and his body was stiff... But you know, from the very first day he arrived, for some unknown reason, I could never beat him in a sparring.' He looked at the sky. 'Mitsuki, do you think he could've killed me?'

'He was a lot faster than you.'

'I see.' Tenko smiled.