Musashi adjusted his academy uniform, glancing at himself in the mirror. The blue and white colors felt foreign to him, but there was a strange comfort in the crispness of the fabric. Strapping his old katana at his side, he stepped outside, only to be greeted by the bustling corridors filled with students rushing to class. He was still studying the slip of paper listing his class when he heard a voice over his shoulder.
"Hey, we're in the same class!"
Musashi turned to find a guy peering at his paper. The boy had an easy smile, his eyes crinkled as if he found everything mildly amusing. He reached to place a friendly hand on Musashi's shoulder, only for Musashi to sidestep, leaving the guy's hand grasping air.
"Ahh, what a cold response." The boy chuckled, unbothered by the rejection.
"You shouldn't touch people you don't know—it's unbecoming." Unmoved, Musashi turned to leave. But the boy just waved his hands in a friendly manner and introduced himself. "My name's Yuuji Arasaka. So, wanna be friends?"
Musashi gave him a measured look. "No," he replied bluntly, walking away. But then he paused at the doorway to the classroom, feeling a touch guilty for the cold shoulder. Turning back, he added, "I'm Masaharu Musashi."
Arasaka's smile widened as he watched Musashi enter the room. "Knew it! You're a softie, Musashi-kun!"
Ignoring him, Musashi took a seat in the back of the class. Naturally, Arasaka slid into the seat next to him, undeterred by Musashi's lack of enthusiasm.
"So, what brings you here, Musashi-kun?" Arasaka asked, leaning back comfortably.
Musashi eyed him. "For you, it's Masaharu-san. We're not close."
Arasaka just waved a hand dismissively. "All those formalities are such a hassle. Why not skip right to being friends?"
Before Musashi could ignore him again, the door swung open, and their instructor stepped in—a bald, middle-aged man with a sharp gaze.
"Hello, brats. I'm Sai-sensei. Let's get something straight: this year's class is weak. If you fall behind, I'll kick you out."
As Sai-sensei scanned the room, his gaze lingered on Arasaka, who was gazing dreamily out the window, apparently oblivious to the stern lecture. Musashi glanced at him, both baffled and irritated by Arasaka's easygoing attitude.
Sai-sensei's brow furrowed as a vein bulged at his temple. In a flash, he hurled a piece of iron at Arasaka, hitting him squarely on the forehead.
"Outch! Sensei, what was that for?"
"Maybe try listening, you brat!" Sai-sensei growled, as Arasaka rubbed his forehead, unfazed.
"I was just appreciating the scenery, Sai-sensei. It's a beautiful day," Arasaka said wistfully, glancing back at the window.
Sai-sensei's smile twisted ominously, sending a chill down the students' spines. "No worries, I'll keep you here after class to make sure you don't miss anything important." His tone was deceptively sweet, but the meaning was anything but that.
---
Later, Sai-sensei led the class to the sparring grounds. "Today, you'll partner up and spar with your own katanas."
Before Musashi could choose a partner, Arasaka was already standing across from him, stretching lazily. "Let's see what you've got, Musashi-kun."
Musashi unsheathed his blade without a word. The old katana was nicked and worn, but it felt like an extension of his hand.
Arasaka raised an eyebrow at the battered weapon. "That old thing? Looks a bit rusty."
Musashi's gaze sharpened. "It's none of your business." He charged forward, swinging with precise force. To Arasaka, it looked as if Musashi had simply disappeared, reappearing only when his blade was inches from Arasaka's own.
"Wait, wait—hold up!" Arasaka yelped, scrambling to block with both hands as Musashi's attacks came down with relentless pressure.
Musashi maintained complete control of the fight only using one hand, easily overpowering Arasaka, whose cocky grin was replaced by a look of panic as he desperately tried to keep up.
"Musashi-kun, go easy on me! I'm not a hollow!" Arasaka protested, struggling to hold his ground.
Sai-sensei finally called a halt. Musashi stopped mid-swing, allowing Arasaka to collapse in relief, frantically checking himself for injuries. Around them, students were whispering in awe.
Sai-sensei's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Musashi. 'That kid… his movements are a bit rough, but his potential is undeniable.' He turned to Musashi. "Name?"
"Masaharu Musashi, Sai-sensei." Musashi sheathed his sword and bowed slightly.
Sai-sensei nodded approvingly. Then his gaze shifted to Arasaka, who was looking out of the window again, clearly oblivious to his close call. "And you, brat? Name?"
Arasaka looked back, confused. "Huh? Sorry, I spaced out."
A vein bulged again on Sai-sensei's forehead. "You'll be staying after and this time, there'll be no 'enjoying the view.'" He emphasized this with a playful slap to the back of Arasaka's head.
"Ouch, Sai-sensei, please!" Arasaka groaned. "This face still has to charm the ladies!"
The rest of the class chuckled as Sai-sensei sent them back, but Musashi heard Arasaka call after him as he left, outstretching a hand for help. "Musashi, wait! Don't leave me behind!"
But Musashi shook his head, giving him a deadpan look. "You got yourself into this."
Just outside the dojo, Musashi could hear Arasaka's exaggerated scream. "Nooo! Sai-sensei, please, my beautiful face!"
---
A while later, Arasaka trudged back to the classroom, his face covered in faint bruises. He sighed dramatically as he plopped down next to Musashi.
Sai-sensei entered shortly after, giving the class a critical look. "Well, brats, let's just say you've got a long way to go. Tomorrow, we'll have history, zanjutsu, and kido. Dismissed."
Musashi was gathering his things to leave when he felt Arasaka's presence behind him.
"Wait up, Musashi-kun!" Arasaka called, hurrying to catch up. Musashi paused, giving him an exasperated look.
"Why do you keep following me?" Musashi asked, eyeing him with suspicion.
"Because you're interesting," Arasaka replied with an earnest grin. "And I want to be friends. So… friends?" He held out his hand, a hopeful look in his eyes.
Musashi gave him a long, level stare before responding, "No." He turned, walking off, but Arasaka just laughed, undeterred.
"Don't worry, Musashi-kun! I'll make you my friend yet!" he called, pumping a fist in the air with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Musashi kept walking, but his mind lingered on Arasaka's words. 'Friend, huh?'
(End of a chapter)