Interlude

"Why don't you come in?"

"Thank you, but I'd rather wait for Master Motobe's instructions before entering."

Gaia seemed confused by how seriously I took the situation, especially considering my firm refusal to enter the dojo without Master Motobe's approval. However, I knew better than to place myself in a precarious position.

'Who knows what types of traps that old man has stashed within his house?' My intuition told me that if I somehow offended the obsessive man, I would have to pay an arm and a leg to escape his house.

It was unnecessary, however, as it seemed that our conversation had already awoken the old master from his slumber.

"Both of you can come in."

I followed his instruction and sat down in the middle of the tatami mat within his dojo, directly facing its master, while Gaia stood beside us, leaning on a wall of the room.

"So kid, you finally decided to come. Why?"

"I need your guidance." I spoke out my request with my head held down to the man who would most likely become my future master for the next few weeks, with full sincerity in my words.

"Why? I've seen you fight, kid. You aren't here to learn jujutsu from me when you are already receiving instruction from Mr. Shibukawa."

"I've even trained that boy Baki before, but I could understand the guidance he was seeking. You're different. What do you want?" The man looked at me with eyes full of certainty at his conclusion.

From all intents and purposes, I could see where he was coming from. He had only seen fighters look down on him as weak for the use of his weapons, thinking them inferior, and while they weren't wrong to a certain extent, I was no 'fighter' like them.

"Master Motobe," I spoke to the man while showing him my respect to his name, still bowing my head, "there's a thing you have absolutely wrong about me."

"Oh?"

I answered the man while tilting my head up, staring directly into his eyes to let him understand the truthfulness of my words.

"You consider myself a fighter and yourself a warrior, who has seen real 'warfare,' who has experienced real carnage. I won't disrespect you by saying that you're wrong. I'm still young, and I'm still inexperienced in those aspects. I haven't even taken a life yet."

"I may not be a warrior, but I'm also not like them."

I ended my carefully chosen statements with as much clarity as I could provide without risking showing disrespect to the old man. I truly did believe them, but I could tell that our paths and views didn't fully align.

"So, boy." The man seemed to still be thinking, considering my request to train under him.

"You're not saying that you look down on them, but that they're just not for you. Hmm, then why learn them in the first place? Why not continue down your current path of fighting using strictly your hands and your fists?"

"I will, as you've said they're not for me. Carrying them around as 'secret weapons,' that's just not my style."

"But." I emphasized my last words to convey my true feelings to him.

"I would be a fool to deny their strength and usefulness. I'm not opposed to using weapons, but should I ever find myself in a situation where I need to rely on them to win, then I would have failed in my original goal."

"Hahaha," I couldn't determine if my words had either pleased or disrespected the old man, as despite his stony-faced approach to my statements, his disciple suddenly started letting out some guttural laughs upon hearing my reasons.

"Come on, Kuzan," the disciple spoke while wiping some tears from his eyes, "if you're interested in them, just say it. Why dance around it?"

It seemed that even the gloomy master of his let out a smile at his disciple's words, shaking his head yes to my request to seek tutelage under him.

We worked out a training plan, which consisted of the old man telling me when to arrive at the dojo and when to leave as he would hear none of my thoughts on my own training, calling me 'inexperienced' and telling me to leave it to the 'adults.'

I was a bit irritated, but I had gotten used to old men treating those of the 'younger generation' as stupid and reckless, and considering that I respected their skill and experience, I decided to let it pass.

"Still, that man's one hell of a hard-ass," I spoke to myself while heading to my residence, not worried about anything interrupting me during my next weeks of training under my variety of masters.

I had come to Japan to seek their instruction, and I would accomplish my goal in the coming days. It was exhilarating, finally achieving the small goal I set for myself, no longer facing any distractions from either my family members or the circumstances themselves. Finally, a moment to fully devote myself to my training had arrived.

'Then, after that, there's the trip, and after that...'

'The Great Raitai Tournament.'