The following morning, as the sun cast its warm rays over Ruina, Ioki awoke to find himself in the Spartan training grounds of Sensei Sairiki's dojo. His body ached from the previous day's intense cleaning, and his head throbbed with a dull hangover.
After the fated meeting yesterday, instead of teaching Ioki techniques and such, Sensei Sairiki made Ioki clean his dojo thoroughly...
With a sigh, Ioki rose to his feet and looked around the serene but empty training grounds. The polished wooden floors, previously marred by his combat, now gleamed, and the training dummies stood in pristine condition. He had scrubbed the walls and even re-stacked the neatly organized weapons rack. It was a thankless task, but Ioki had thrown himself into it with determination.
Once the dojo was spotless, Ioki approached the entrance where Sensei Sairiki stood. The sensei regarded him with a mix of disapproval and pity.
