Toji stood in the toy store within the department store, rubbing the back of his head with a dazed expression. He had ended up getting hit by Zoro during their training.
Around the Christmas tree, set up prematurely, were boxes wrapped in sparkling paper. They were just for decoration, not containing any real gifts.
"Mommy, mommy! Buy me a bunny doll!"
"I want a robot!"
Several children dashed inside, shouting their wishes.
Toji surveyed the toy store. There were kids scampering among shelves packed with toys, a little girl tugging at her mother's skirt pointing at the toy she wanted, and a boy holding two toys, unable to decide, eventually lying down in front of his dad in defeat.
Meanwhile, Zoro was calmly examining toys in the section for 0-1 year olds.
Toji remembered what the nanny had said.
'Treat him like a child.'
...But he wondered if there was a need to treat someone who had just been training by swinging a stick at his father's head and then said, "You're finally improving. Practice more," like a child. However, it was true that Zoro was a child.
"Do you want me to buy you something from here?"
"I don't need anything."
"Then is there something you want?"
"A sword."
"...A sword?"
"Yeah. Three of them. I practice Santoryu."
Toji rubbed his mouth with a look that said he had a lot to say.
"How are you going to hold all three?"
"I'll hold one in my mouth."
"In your mouth... Are you serious?"
He felt the urge to sigh.
'How am I supposed to treat a kid talking about using three swords like a child?'
The fact that Zoro wanted to use three swords seemed childish, showing a lack of understanding of the world. But the problem was that Zoro might not just talk about it; he seemed likely to actually attempt it.
Toji effortlessly lifted Zoro and placed him in the front seat of the cart.
"I'll choose, so you take a break."
"You don't know Megumi well enough."
"..."
Silenced by the heavy truth, Toji remained quiet. Although it had been a month since he returned home, the absolute time he had spent taking care of Megumi was still less than Zoro's. Megumi also seemed to prefer Zoro over Toji.
"I'll just buy it. Toji, you—"
Zoro stopped mid-sentence and sharply turned his head. His eyes narrowed as he stared at a corner of a shelf.
Following Zoro's gaze, Toji spotted a spirit. A green, squirming spirit was clinging to the toy shelf.
[Can't buy, can't buuuy, sorry, why, whyyyy?]
Toji clicked his tongue in annoyance. This was the problem with crowded places.
"I told you not to look."
The spirit spread its wings and flew towards Zoro.
Toji pulled a small wooden pocketknife from his pocket and swung it at the spirit rushing towards Zoro at an unseen speed.
Swoosh.
The spirit was sliced in half in mid-air and fell.
Zoro looked back at Toji with a look of dissatisfaction.
"I could have taken it down."
"If you have a complaint, then be faster than me."
"I guess I'll have to be, huh?"
Considering whether he should increase his training, Zoro pondered seriously, oblivious to Toji shaking his head in disapproval.
"I told you, don't make eye contact. Spirits will attack if they think they are being watched."
"Hmm, should I walk around with my eyes closed?"
"Or wear sunglasses."
Just as Zoro had taught Toji about Haki, Toji had been teaching Zoro about sorcery.
The irony of a non-sorcerer like Toji teaching sorcery was not lost on him, but what choice did he have? There was no one else to teach Zoro.
Zoro's existence couldn't be carelessly revealed to the sorcerer community. If it were, he would undoubtedly become a target. In the largely abnormal realm of sorcery, Zoro's existence was exceptionally unique, in more ways than one.
"..."
Learning Haki had revealed something important: it was a skill that couldn't be learned without instruction, yet even with teaching, very few actually manage to use it.
'Ordinary non-sorcerers would find it even harder to obtain.'
For Toji, who was adept in physical combat and had struggled for a month without grasping it, it would be nearly impossible for ordinary non-sorcerers. They were usually not accustomed to fighting.
Only sorcerers, specifically those active and familiar with combat, not just retired elders hiding in the back rooms, could perhaps attempt to acquire this skill. Of course, even for them, tremendous effort and time would be required.
Acquiring the skill was just the beginning. To increase proficiency and apply Haki effectively, something more was needed. Although Zoro hadn't explained what that was, Toji intuitively understood that simply time and effort were not enough to enhance proficiency in Haki.
'Zoro said he had learned Haki.'
When could he possibly have had the time? And when had he left the house?
'...While I was away?'
Even considering that, the timeline seemed too short.
'To master all of this in just a bit over half a year?'
The more Toji delved into Haki, the more unanswered questions accumulated in his mind.
How could Zoro have such a high proficiency in Haki at such a young age? Where did he hear about Haki? When did he start training in Haki? How could he have such an unwavering mind, Fudoshin, at his age? Why did he seem familiar with combat and injuries? How did he attain a maturity rivaling adults at the tender age of four?
All these questions ultimately converged into one.
Zoro, my son.
What kind of being are you?