The morning sun shimmered on the yards of the Takeda Dojo while dozens of youths practised their sword, spreading throughout in rows. It was just the same for the kids, four-hour-long morning practice from mediation, the morning run to the sword practising.
Hiro practised the kata for the thousandth time for today, before sheathing his Katana. Sweat dripped from all over his body, wetting his white robes entirely on his back. A dozen more kids half a decade younger than him practised their kata in the yards, making a shout in unison chorus.
"Sensei," a voice called as a boy of twelve brought a white towel to wipe his sweat. He had a glass of water as well.
Hiro took it without a word, looking at the kids practising. "Tanaka, set your shoulder straight," he yelled towards the youth on the side. "So do you, Maki. Sasaki put more strength into it. If you cannot, you can go back home. There is no place for slackers."
