CH-11: A new disciple

The next day, all three of us woke up with pounding headaches. The noise outside was the main reason we stirred from our beds. As I groggily got up to check what was happening, Sensei and Kosuke slowly followed suit, rubbing their temples and yawning.

With a yawn, I opened the door to see a large crowd outside, aggressively pushing each other to get closer. Seeing this chaotic scene, I quickly slid the door closed and turned to Sensei.

"Master, I think these people are here to beat us up for something we did yesterday after getting drunk," I said with a mix of concern and trepidation.

A drop of sweat trickled down Sensei Tetsuro's temple. "I don't remember anything about last night… Do you, Kosuke?"

Kosuke just shook his head with a sigh. "I think we should just talk to them. We have enough money to pay them off from the tournament reward."

"NOOO!" Sensei blocked Kosuke's way before he could open the door. "That money is for repairing the dojo. We can't give it away."

Kosuke and I sighed in unison. The noise outside grew louder, with shouts of our names increasing in volume.

"Alright, Master, let's just fight them off," I suggested, feeling a mix of dread and excitement at the prospect.

Tetsuro smiled and nodded, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Now, that's my disciple. Learn something from him, Kosuke."

Kosuke sighed again but took a stance, ready for whatever was coming. Tetsuro opened the door, and all three of us prepared for a fight.

But the crowd outside didn't rush in. Instead, something unexpected happened. People started asking about joining the dojo.

"Join the dojo? What?" I muttered, peeking through the door.

Kosuke stepped forward, looking puzzled. "Maybe they heard about our performance at the tournament. They might think training here will make them strong like us."

Sensei Tetsuro stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It's not that simple. Strength isn't just about winning a tournament. It's about discipline, dedication, and understanding the art."

One particularly eager young man pushed to the front, almost breathless with excitement. "Please, Master Tetsuro! I want to train under you. I promise I'll work hard!"

Sensei eyed him critically, then glanced at the rest of the crowd. "Hard work, you say? Many people think they can handle the training, but few truly understand what it entails. What makes you different?"

The young man faltered, glancing back at the murmuring crowd. "I... I saw you and your students at the tournament. Your skills were incredible. I want to learn how to fight like that."

Sensei shook his head. "Watching a fight and living the life of a martial artist are worlds apart. Most of you are here for the wrong reasons. You saw us win and now seek glory, not growth."

Another voice piped up from the back. "But we're serious! We want to learn!"

Sensei sighed, looking out at the hopeful faces. "Martial arts isn't a path to fame. It's a lifelong journey of self-discovery and improvement. If you're looking for shortcuts to glory, you won't find them here."

The crowd began to murmur again, some people looking disheartened, others defiant. One by one, many started to disperse, realizing they might not have the dedication Sensei demanded.

Kosuke watched them go, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Maybe we should give some of them a chance, Master. What if they could be good students with the right guidance?"

Sensei turned to him, a small smile playing on his lips. "Patience, Kosuke. The right ones will come. Those who truly seek to learn will find their way here, regardless of obstacles. True martial artists aren't deterred by a simple refusal."

I couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and frustration. "But what if we're missing out on potential talent?"

Sensei looked at me, his gaze piercing. "Talent is only a small part of the equation, Dante. Without the right mindset and heart, talent is wasted. Those who leave today weren't ready. Those who return will have taken their first step on the true path."

Kosuke and I nodded, absorbing the lesson. We watched the remaining few outside, who stood their ground, determined expressions on their faces. Sensei Tetsuro stepped outside and addressed them directly.

"If you truly wish to join, prove it. Show up tomorrow at dawn, ready to train. No exceptions, no excuses."

The few who remained nodded fervently. As Sensei closed the door, he turned to us with a satisfied nod. "Now, let's see who returns. Our dojo isn't just about numbers. It's about nurturing true warriors."

Kosuke and I exchanged looks of understanding. We might not have fought off a physical challenge today, but the lesson was clear: the real battle was in maintaining the integrity and spirit of our dojo, no matter how tempting the allure of fame might be.

***

The first day after the crowd appeared, Sensei Tetsuro sifted through the throng with his keen eyes, picking out a handful of hopefuls. "You, you, and you," he said, pointing to a few of the more determined faces. "Come back tomorrow at dawn."

The next day, a dozen eager individuals stood outside the dojo at sunrise, their faces a mix of excitement and nerves. Sensei began the training with rigorous drills, testing their endurance and commitment. By midday, sweat poured from their brows, and their spirits wavered. "This is just the beginning," Sensei warned, his voice stern. "The real training is much harder."

As the days passed, the numbers dwindled. Each dawn brought fewer trainees, their initial enthusiasm waning in the face of relentless discipline. Some left quietly in the night, while others departed with muttered excuses about finding other paths. By the end of the week, only one boy remained, his resolve unwavering despite the grueling regimen.

He was a slight figure with dark circles under his eyes, yet his determination shone brightly. Day and night, he sat outside the dojo, refusing to leave. He performed the drills with dogged persistence, his movements growing steadier and more confident with each passing day. His dedication caught the eye of all who passed, including me. I couldn't help but admire his tenacity, seeing a reflection of my own early days in his efforts.

On the fourth day, I watched from the dojo entrance as the boy swayed on his feet, his exhaustion finally overwhelming him. He crumpled to the ground, and I rushed to his side. "Sensei," I called out as I lifted the boy's frail body, bringing him inside. "Will you teach him now?"

Sensei Tetsuro observed the boy's unconscious form, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Yes, Dante," he said with a sigh. "He's proven his worth through sheer willpower."

When the boy woke up, his eyes darted around the room, confusion giving way to relief. "Where am I?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"You're safe," I assured him, handing him a cup of water. "You collapsed outside the dojo. Can you tell us why you're here?"

The boy's expression tightened with pain. "My family was captured by pirates," he began, his voice trembling. "They raided our village in the middle of the night. We were taken by surprise, and there was nothing we could do. The pirates were ruthless, and anyone who resisted was killed on the spot."

He paused, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "After they took my family, I managed to escape and ran to the nearest Marine base, begging for help. But they... they kicked me out, said they had more important things to do. I was devastated, ready to give up entirely. I felt so powerless."

His hands clenched into fists as he continued. "I wandered aimlessly, thinking about ending it all. But then, an old man found me. He saw my despair and stopped me. He told me that giving up was the coward's way out and that if I wanted to save my family, I needed to become stronger, to fight back. He trained me, taught me how to survive and fight."

His voice grew stronger as he spoke, his resolve evident. "I trained hard, every day and night, pushing myself beyond my limits. But by the time I was ready, it was too late. The pirates had been executed by the Marines for unrelated crimes, and my family... my family was gone. I was left with nothing."

He looked down, a shadow crossing his face. "The old man who trained me... he went away a few months ago. He was the only family I had left, and now he's gone too. I have nowhere else to go."

He looked up, his eyes meeting Sensei Tetsuro's. "I saw you two fight in the tournament. The way you moved, the strength and skill you displayed—I knew this dojo was where I needed to be. I want to learn from you, to become strong enough so that what happened to my family never happens to anyone else."

Sensei Tetsuro's face grew serious. "What's your name?"

"My name is Hiro," the boy replied, his eyes full of resolve.

Sensei nodded thoughtfully. "Hiro, your bravery and determination are commendable. We will train you to be strong enough to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

With that, Hiro joined our ranks. Kosuke and I quickly took to sparring with him, impressed by his tenacity and eagerness to learn. He was a fast learner, his determination driving him to improve rapidly. Every day, we pushed each other harder, forging a bond through sweat and shared purpose.

Life at the dojo settled into a steady rhythm. Each morning, Kosuke would rise before dawn, his disciplined nature driving him to meditate and perform solo katas in the courtyard. The serious and focused Kosuke was like a rock—unwavering and reliable. His presence was a constant source of stability for us all.

Hiro, on the other hand, was like a little brother to us. He followed Kosuke's example, waking up early and practicing diligently. Despite his past, he had a light-heartedness about him, a sense of hope that was infectious. He'd often join me in the kitchen as I made breakfast, trying to mimic my culinary antics.

"Dante, why do you always sing while cooking?" Hiro asked one morning, a puzzled look on his face as he watched me flip pancakes.

"Because it makes the food taste better, obviously!" I replied with a grin, spinning around dramatically with a spatula in hand. "Everything's more fun with a little bit of flair."

Kosuke would roll his eyes at our antics, but there was always a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Focus, Dante. We have a long day of training ahead."

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast a warm glow over the dojo, Hiro and I sat on the steps, catching our breath after another intense training session. The air was still, the only sounds being the distant chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

"Hey, Hiro," I began, curiosity gnawing at me. "What was the name of the old man who taught you? You never mentioned it."

Hiro looked puzzled for a moment, his brows furrowing as he tried to recall. "You know, I don't think I ever knew his name," he admitted, scratching his head. "I just called him 'Grandfather'."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? You never asked?"

Hiro shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. "It didn't seem important at the time. He was just 'Grandfather' to me. He never corrected me, either."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "That's pretty unusual, Hiro. Didn't he ever tell you anything about himself?"

Hiro's expression darkened slightly as he recalled a memory. "Well, there was one time… It was strange. He suddenly told me that he didn't have much time left. Then, before I could even ask what he meant, he just walked into the sea and… never came back."

I blinked, processing the bizarre story. "He just… walked into the sea?" I repeated, my voice tinged with disbelief. "And you didn't find that odd?"

Hiro sighed, looking down at his hands. "I guess I did, but… I was too shocked to do anything. I thought he was just going for a swim or something. But he never came back."

I raised an eyebrow, my mind racing. There was definitely something Hiro was missing here. "That's a pretty strange way to go, Hiro. Are you sure there wasn't anything else?"

Hiro looked genuinely puzzled. "I don't know, Dante. I was too young to understand what was happening. I just… I just miss him."

I patted him on the back, offering some comfort. "Well, it sounds like he was a remarkable man. Maybe he had his reasons. But you're here now, and you've got a new family. We'll help you figure things out."

Hiro nodded, a small smile returning to his face. "Thanks, Dante. I know he'd be happy that I found a place like this. And that I have people like you and Kosuke to train with."

I grinned, ruffling his hair playfully. "We're glad to have you, Hiro. Now, let's get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be another tough day of training."

As we headed back inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Hiro's story than met the eye. But for now, I was content to have him as part of our family, determined to help him grow stronger and uncover the truths of his past.

Training sessions were intense. Sensei Tetsuro had started a new regimen for us. According to him, he was teaching us how to dodge attacks with our eyes closed. But I saw it for what it was; I recognized it from the knowledge of my past life. Although I didn't know whether sensei knew about this or not, he was giving us training on how to awaken Observation Haki.

He would sit Kosuke and me down and hit us with a wooden stick, asking us to dodge it using only our intuition. At first, fed up with the constant beatings, I tried to hear the sound of the stick cutting through the air to dodge. But sensei saw through my strategy, and I was beaten black and blue.

That went on for months. Kosuke was the first one to awaken his Haki, and then he joined sensei in beating me up. Those were grueling weeks, with Kosuke smirking as he swung the stick at me, his attacks becoming more precise as his Haki sharpened.

Then, one fateful day, something clicked. I could feel the movements around me, the intent behind each strike. I started dodging their attacks purely on intuition. Sensei's strikes became less frequent, Kosuke's taunts more frustrated. Finally, I was able to dodge their attacks effortlessly, my Observation Haki awakened.

As for Hiro, he went through the same training we did in our first year and he soaked it all in, his progress evident with each passing day.

Hiro's determination was inspiring. Even when his body was pushed to its limits, his resolve never wavered. He would often stay up late into the night, practicing his forms by moonlight, his movements growing more precise and powerful with each session.

Kosuke, ever the perfectionist, would sometimes join him, offering pointers and correcting his stances. Despite his stern demeanor, Kosuke cared deeply for Hiro, treating him like a younger sibling. Their relationship was built on mutual respect and a shared drive to improve.

A year passed in a blur of training and camaraderie. Hiro's skills sharpened, and he began to embody the principles Sensei Tetsuro instilled in us. We had become not just students, but a family. Our bond was forged in the fires of shared hardship and collective triumphs. We celebrated each other's victories and supported one another through defeats.

Hiro had grown not just in strength, but also in confidence. He moved with a grace and assurance that belied his age, his eyes reflecting the fierce determination that had brought him to our dojo. Kosuke and I couldn't have been prouder of the young man he was becoming.

One day, we received an unexpected call. "Dante, Kosuke!" Lucy's voice crackled with excitement over the transponder snail. "I've completed my studies in Torino Kingdom. I need practical experience now. Can you come and get me?"

Kosuke and I exchanged grins, the prospect of reuniting with our friend filling us with anticipation. "We'll be there soon, Lucy," I promised. "We've got a lot to catch up on."