The air was heavy with dampness as Ren approached the East Training Field. The tanto at his side felt heavier than usual, as if it recognized the importance of the moment.
Through the haze, a figure emerged, standing still as a statue. Ganryū was already there waiting, his presence imposing. Two swords rested visibly on his back, their scabbards catching the faint glow of dawn.
"You're early," the jonin said without turning.
Ren halted, surprised that Ganryū had noticed his presence so quickly. The jonin slowly turned, his sharp eyes scrutinizing every detail of the young man before him.
"I fought alongside Toshiro on several missions," Ganryū continued, his voice calm but with an undertone Ren couldn't quite place. "He was precise, methodical. Perhaps too much so." There was no accusation in his tone, but a hint of... regret?
Without warning, one of Ganryū's swords moved. The strike came with an impressive speed Ren had never witnessed before. Instinct took over, and his tanto was out of its sheath in an instant, deflecting the blow at the last moment.
"He also favored the tanto," Ganryū remarked, completing the movement with innate fluidity. "But you hold it differently."
A new attack followed immediately, this time in a more complex pattern. Ren could barely keep up, slowed by the twenty kilos of training weights strapped to his body.
"Training weights," Ganryū noted suddenly, stopping mid-motion. "Interesting choice. But useless if you don't know how to use them properly."
He noticed my weights right away? Ren thought.
The clash resumed, the sound of blades ringing through the still air. Minutes, or perhaps hours, passed as Ren struggled to keep pace with the jonin's relentless assault. Each time he thought he had discerned a pattern in Ganryū's movements, it shifted, leaving him scrambling to adjust.
He's strong, Ren realized.
"Your style is... peculiar," Ganryū remarked as their weapons locked once more. "I see your father's influence, but there's something else. Something more... clinical."
The next exchange was closer, more intense. Ren's muscles burned under the weight of his gear, but he refused to yield.
"You're compensating for the extra weight by adjusting your posture," Ganryū observed mid-strike. "It won't work. Not in the long run." He stopped abruptly, lowering his sword. "Take off the weights."
Ren hesitated.
"That wasn't a request."
Methodically, Ren removed the training weights, each piece landing on the ground with a dull thud. Ganryū watched silently before continuing.
"Weights are a tool, not a crutch. You've been adapting your style to them instead of integrating them naturally into your movements."
Without the weights, Ren felt disoriented, his body too light, almost unbalanced. Ganryū raised his sword again.
"Now," the jonin said firmly, "show me what you can really do."
The ensuing exchange was entirely different. Freed from the burden of the weights, Ren's movements became smoother, more fluid. He was no longer fighting against his own body.
"Better," Ganryū commented, parrying a thrust. "But still too rigid. You move as if every strike must be perfect. Perfection is an illusion, boy. In real combat, there's no perfect strike—only the necessary one."
He stepped back, lowering his sword again. "Three times a week, at dawn. I'll teach you the true kenjutsu of Kirigakure—not the techniques from books, but the art forged in mist and blood."
He studied Ren closely, as if weighing his worth. "But on one condition: no weights during training. Use them throughout the rest of your day if you must, but here, you'll first learn to move correctly. Only then can you add weight without compromising your style."
"Yes, sensei," Ren said, bowing formally.
"I'm not your sensei yet," Ganryū corrected. "That's something I'll decide after a month. For now, I'm just a jonin with time to waste on a stubborn young student."
As the mist began to lift, Ganryū added almost casually, "Your father would have agreed, you know? That you're trying to grow too quickly. Some lessons take time to truly learn."
Before Ren could respond, Ganryū disappeared into the mist, leaving him alone with his thoughts and a new perspective to consider.