The scent of fresh tea rose softly into the air, steam curling like whispers around the quiet room. Ushimaru and Gyomei sat across from one another at the low table, their posture formal but their hearts heavy with what had been shared. Onimaru lay comfortably beside Ushimaru on a plump pillow, tail wagging slowly in calm contentment.
Mamoru, kneeling neatly, poured tea for them with practiced care. Though he tried to appear steady, Ushimaru's sharp eyes saw the tremble in his son's hand as he recounted the tragedies they had uncovered.
Ushimaru studied Gyomei quietly for a long moment. The tale Mamoru had shared of Gyomei's unjust suffering gnawed at him. That such cruelty had befallen a young man of such compassion filled him with anger. Beneath the anger, there was gratitude ,gratitude that fate had guided Gyomei into his son's path.
Good choice, my son, Ushimaru thought with pride. You've chosen a companion of strength and of a great heart.
As Mamoru spoke, Ushimaru reflected on his own decision. Sending Mamoru to see Wano with his own eyes, to step beyond the safety of noble walls. it had gone even better than expected. His boy had seen the land and its people, he had also tasted the bitter edge of reality. The denial in Mamoru's voice told him clearly his son's childlike naivety had been shaken. It was never Ushimaru's intent to break Mamoru but to prepare him. Better he shatter here, in the company of his father and friends, than to be shattered cruelly by the world.
Mamoru lowered his gaze as he spoke, his words slow, heavy. "We learned… a battle took place in Ringo. The northern graves were defended by a pirate , Kozuki Moria. He gave his life, and his crew, to protect Wano."
Gyomei bowed his head respectfully. Onimaru let out a faint whimper. Ushimaru's brows furrowed; the name stirred memories, but what struck him most was the meaning. A pirate had defended Wano when its own strength was absent.
Mamoru's voice dropped even lower. "But that wasn't the greatest shock. Father ,Shusui is gone. The corpse of Ryuma too. Stolen."
Mamoru's fists clenched tight, his jaw locking. Gyomei's hands hardened against his beads . Even Onimaru's ears flattened as he growled low.
Ushimaru's face darkened, his own hand tightening until the veins on the back of it showed. As Daimyo of Ringo, this desecration had happened under his watch. His honor, his ancestors, his people all insulted in one stroke.
"Yes," Ushimaru said grimly after a long pause. "I was informed when it happened. But I was not here in Ringo."
Mamoru looked up, still surprised from having learn this earlier. "You rarely leave Ringo. It must have been something important."
"It was," Ushimaru admitted, his expression softening. "Lord Oden returned to Ringo not long ago. He spoke of training you ,teaching you Ryuo and other arts. It delighted me. Oden is a far greater teacher of Ryuo than I. If he shoulders that duty, then you and I may focus on something else ,swordsmanship at its purest."
Mamoru blinked in shock, the teacup nearly slipping from his hand. "What?! Lord Oden was here before me? Have we truly been gone so long?"
Ushimaru nodded calmly, recalling the tale Denjiro once told. "Oden once ran from Kuri to the capital in one night. A monster in his own right. For him, distance and time are nothing."
Mamoru sat stunned, his mind racing. Then another thought burst from him before he could restrain it. "There's… more to swordsmanship? Beyond Ryuo?"
Ushimaru chuckled faintly, the sound low and warm, pulling him from his brief memories. "Yes, Far more. Swordsmanship is not merely about attack and parry. And having the strongest Ryuo does not make you the greatest swordsman. It runs deeper than that."
Mamoru's eyes widened, curiosity sparking like fire. He had believed Ryuo to be the pinnacle that to master it was to stand at the top of swordsmanship . The idea that there was another depth entirely left him eager.
Gyomei frowned slightly, listening though he could not grasp the finer points. Yet the reverence in Ushimaru's tone told him these words carried great weight.
Ushimaru continued. "Though swordsmanship and Ryuo are closely tied, you dont need to be the greatest user of Ryuo to be the greatest swordsman. Swordsmanship is an art of its own, rooted in more than just willpower or spirit. It is history, discipline, and the truth of the blade."
Mamoru swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Then Father, please, teach me. Train me to reach it."
Ushimaru's gaze softened with pride. "That is my intent. I want to train you to stand among the greatest swordsmen Wano has ever known. To that end, I've studied
the history of our clan and of Wano. Records of the swordsmen of old, their ways, their philosophies."
Mamoru's chest tightened with emotion. His father was shaping him for greatness. In that moment, Mamoru promised himself silently , No matter what, I will meet his expectations.
Ushimaru's voice grew quieter, almost reverent. "There was a swordsman in our clan dating back more than 800 years ago. The period know as the Void period . His name was Shimotsuki Nichirin, and he was part of a group known as the Council of Swordsmen."
The room fell silent. Mamoru's breath caught. Gyomei tilted his head, sensing the weight of the name even if the details escaped him. Onimaru stirred, as if feeling the echo of something ancient.
Mamoru whispered, almost to himself, "Eight hundred years… the void period?"