The cold wind of Ringo howled across the mountains, brushing through the pine trees and scattering snow over the training grounds. A low grunt broke the stillness—followed by the grinding sound of rock against rock.
Gyomei Himejima's muscles trembled as he pushed a massive boulder forward, its size towering over him like a small hut. His bare feet dug into the frozen ground, every inch of his frame straining with effort. Steam rose from his body in the frigid air.
"—UAAAHH!!"
With one final heave, the boulder rolled forward a few more meters before halting. Gyomei collapsed to his knees, gasping, the world spinning around him.
From a nearby rock, Kazuyoshi's calm voice broke the silence.
"Further than last time," he said, his tone measured but not without pride. "By three steps."
Gyomei looked up weakly, sweat mixing with the dust on his skin. "Three steps… is that all?"
Kazuyoshi gave a faint smile. "Three steps is the difference between collapsing beneath a boulder and pushing it away to save a life."
He rose from the rock, the wind catching the hem of his haori. His face lined with years of battle and wisdom remained composed as always.
Flashback
Inside Kazuyoshi's residence, the air was filled with the soft sound of rain tapping the roof. The two men sat across from one another, a pot of steaming tea between them. ( edited the earlier chapter where Ushimaru leaves after dropping of Gyomei , instead he stays for tea)
"So this is the boy?" Kazuyoshi asked, setting his cup down. "The one you wrote to me about."
Ushimaru nodded. "His name is Gyomei Himejima. He has a strong spirit… stronger than many I've seen."
Kazuyoshi's lips curved faintly. "Then he'll suit my style , I've been looking for a successor for quite some time ."
Ushimaru took a slow sip. "You'll make a better teacher than I. Teaching Swordsmanship would be a waste of his talents , it doesnt suit him ."
Kazuyoshi nodded
"The world outside is moving faster than ever. Kaido's men grow bolder. There are whispers of abductions… and Oden..."
"...Dances," Ushimaru finished grimly. "Every day, he says its his way of providing for his family."
The two men shared a heavy silence.
Kazuyoshi's hands clenched slightly. "Will we really watch Wano rot, waiting for someone to act?"
Neither answered. But both knew ,their time of peace would not last.
Flashback end
The memory faded, replaced by images of Gyomei's training over the following months.
He lifted stones of various sizes ,first as large as his chest, then his shoulders, then larger than himself. Each week, Kazuyoshi replaced the stones with heavier ones.
"There is no shortcut to strength" Kazuyoshi would say, voice firm but encouraging.
Gyomei ran up and down the steep slopes of the mountain until his legs gave out beneath him. Kazuyoshi never yelled. He only stood at the top, arms crossed, waiting.
When Gyomei finally collapsed, panting in the dirt, Kazuyoshi would simply say:
"Again tomorrow."
One morning, Kazuyoshi appeared holding a weapon that gleamed faintly in the dawn light a chain and iron ball connected to a curved sickle.
"This," Kazuyoshi said, laying it before Gyomei, "is the Kusarigamajutsu , the weapon that suits my style . It is the union of force and control."
He demonstrated, swinging the iron ball so fast it whistled through the air before snapping it back, catching it with perfect precision.
"Every part of this weapon demands awareness of space. Even blind eyes can feel its rhythm."
Gyomei tried. At first, the chain tangled. The iron ball nearly struck him in the chest. His grip slipped. But Kazuyoshi's tone never wavered.
"Focus , those who waver are weak. "
Weeks passed. Gradually, the chain began to move as if alive in Gyomei's hands each swing guided by sound, vibration, and Observation haki.
Four months had passed.
Kazuyoshi and Gyomei stood facing each other in the open field.
Kazuyoshi held his chain and flail lightly, his presence serene yet commanding.
"You've come far, Gyomei. Now, you will learn the forms of my style . I call it stone Breathing."
He took a deep breath, grounding his feet.
"Pay close attention. "
First Form: Serpentinite Bipolar
Kazuyoshi swung the flail and axe in unison, the two ends spiraling around him like twin stars. "This form manipulates momentum. Use the spin of your weapon to generate centripetal force, allowing you to crush and bind simultaneously."
Second Form: Upper Smash
He leapt, bringing the axe upward in a mighty swing that shattered a nearby boulder cleanly. "A vertical assault. Used when your opponent is above or airborne ,its timing must be precise."
Third Form: Stone Skin
He exhaled deeply, his stance tightening. "This is not a strike but a defense. You root yourself, grounding your body to absorb incoming force. Like stone, unyielding."
Fourth Form: Volcanic Rock, Rapid Conquest
The air cracked as his chain whipped through in rapid succession, a storm of sound and power. "A barrage. Each strike builds upon the last. The more you move, the stronger you become."
Fifth Form: Arcs of Justice
Finally, he raised the axe high, spinning the chain in wide arcs that surrounded him completely. "A form of domination—protective and punishing. Ideal when outnumbered."
As the last swing ended, dust hung in the air, swirling around him like a halo of stone and ash.
Kazuyoshi turned to Gyomei, his breathing steady.
"These are the forms of Stone Breathing . I was able to create this style through observation of the iconic Flame breathing of the Rengoku family , but their style didnt suit me , so using the same principles i created my own , there are others who were able to accomplish the same as me . The notable being Urokodaki."
He stepped closer, placing a heavy hand on Gyomei's shoulder.
"Beyond these, you must make uour own forms . You must be the firm pillar that will standing firm supporting your lord ."
Gyomei bowed deeply, voice trembling with determination.
"I will not fail you, Master Kazuyoshi."
Kazuyoshi smiled faintly, the faintest warmth in his usually stoic tone.
"I know you won't, boy. "
The wind howled again, scattering dust and leaves across the empty field.
Between master and student, the silence spoke louder than words .