(General POV)
On a cool evening, on open grassland. The sun kisses the East goodbye whilst it heads to the west for a well-deserved rest. Two young men in similar uniforms with sleek-looking katanas on their waists and patterned haori of different colors over their uniforms are walking by the wayside while making small talk. The younger of the two men then stopped abruptly and spoke to his counterpart, "Who do you plan to succeed you?". In response to this, the older answered with no sense of emotion or urgency, "Nobody can compare to us.
trying to pass on our breath arts is hopeless... the techniques that we have mastered will just be lost." The younger man then smiles, he looks up to the heavens, peering into it as if he could divine its secrets. "Kokushibo, brother
we are not so great as you make us seem.". Stunned, the man called Kokushibo looked toward his younger brother, confusion written over his face. "We are but a line in the long, long book of human history. Even as we speak, the voices of those who will surpass us cry out for the first time. they will find their way to the same place again. No matter when the curtain closes on our lives, we can rest easy. what is there to worry about?". Too stunned to speak Kokushibo looked to his brother with wonder, only one word making it through his lips "Yoriichi....." Then he thought 'what exactly does the future hold for us? I wonder.