Shimotsuki Village, East Blue
"So this is where the people from the Shimotsuki clan who left all those years ago settled?" Miyamoto asked in wonder. The man was eager to et one of the grandmaster swordsmiths, cutting the travel ti by half. He was as excited as a child about the new places they visited, every experience was novel to him.
The only one who maintained a semblance of calm was Lucci. anwhile, Robin, Leo, and Mansherry were already playing tag on the beach. My observation haki picked up more than fifty villagers, carrying makeshift weapons, and made their way toward us.
"Visitors, please get behind us. There are pirates coming to raid the village," the man in the lead spoke. However, there was no fear in his eyes, as if they were used to pirates regularly. Then his eyes set on Miyamoto, who was dressed in his samurai attire. His eyes sparkled.
"Sir! By any chance, are you a samurai?" He questioned, for the people of Shimotsuki Village saw samurais with reverence. Even if the pirates were too much for them to handle, they just had to send a word to Isshin Dojo, and the samurai masters from the dojo would co and decimate the pirates.
Miyamoto turned to to ask for instructions on whether he should reveal his connections to Wano. I simply shrugged. "Miyamoto-san, why don’t you take care of those ruffians? I’m sure the people would like to see a samurai from Wano in action." I gestured towards the sea, where a small galleon-sized ship flying pirate colors was making its way towards the island.
The crowd sparkled with reverence when they understood that Miyamoto was truly a samurai from the holand of samurais. Miyamoto was soone who could stand toe to toe with veteran vice admirals, so these no-na pirates of East Blue were a cakewalk. Even little Lucci could decimate them with both his hands tied behind his back.
"Don’t hold back, Miyamoto-san. The prestige of Wano is on the line," I chuckled, teasing him. The villagers, who had co to confront the pirates, watched Miyamoto’s every move with reverence. I doubted these people might start a faith worshipping samurais. Miyamoto simply scoffed.
His towering four-ter form turned towards the sea as the pirate ship drew closer to the island. He gripped his katanas firmly in his hands as a sudden pressure erupted. If not for countering the shockwave, many villagers would have been thrown off their feet.
"Nitoryu Iai: Phantom Bull!" With blinding speed, Miyamoto infused his katanas with armant haki and unleashed a powerful cross slash that spanned dozens of ters, targeting the galleon.
A large phantom of a majestic bull roared and charged alongside the cross slash. To the onlookers, it seed as if a massive bull was charging on top of the seawater to run down the incoming galleon.
"Turn! Turn the ship away, you bastards!" The pirate captain roared as he saw the massive attack charging in their direction. The ethereal bull was almost five tis their ship’s size. They had never seen or heard of such an attack in all their lifetis, but they felt it was an imminent threat to their lives.
However, it was too late. Within seconds, the attack reached the ship, the cross slash tearing through it and decimating it into pieces. Most of the pirates were killed instantly, while those who fell into the sea were devoured by the Lord of the Coast, who had been following our ship for days. The sea king was truly cunning, having followed us all the way from Foosha Village and feasting on the other little bosses that Lucci killed during his swim towards Shimotsuki Village.
The villagers erupted in cheers and awe, their eyes filled with admiration and reverence for Miyamoto. He had not only protected their village but also reinforced the legendary status of samurais from Wano. Miyamoto, with his katanas still humming from the attack, turned back to the villagers, giving them a slight bow, acknowledging their gratitude.
"Miyamoto-san," I said, clapping him on the shoulder with a suppressed laugh as he was overwheld by the overenthusiastic villagers. "The prestige of Wano is in good hands." My gaze then turned towards a figure hiding behind a tree hundreds of ters away.
The man had followed the villagers in secret, likely soone from Isshin Dojo who had co to ensure the villagers weren’t hard while fighting the pirates. The man seed shocked at Miyamoto’s display of power and quickly discerned that he was a samurai from Wano.
The man stepped out of the shadows, and the villagers gathered around Miyamoto were surprised at the newcor’s respectful bow. "Koushirou-sama!!!" The sentint was echoed among the crowd. My eyes widened in realization as I recognized the young man—Kuina’s father and Zoro’s first ntor.
Under Koushirou’s orders, the villagers cleared the coast. They might not have realized who I was, but it seed Koushirou was well aware of my identity, his hand gripping his sword tightly. One would surely beco infamous with a bounty close to 2.5 billion.
"Donquixote Rosinante! Why is a man..." He gave a look over and realized, to his shock, that I was yet a teen. "Why is soone of your caliber out here? I don’t think these people have anything that’s worth your attention." His attention then turned to the samurai standing next to . He knew that if it ca to a clash, he might not be able to best Miyamoto, let alone fight .
His gaze fell onto the two swords strapped to my hip, and his eyes widened in shock and realization. "That’s..." He looked at , wanting to confirm whether what he was seeing was true. He had only ever heard descriptions of the revered blade of the sword god Ryuma but had never seen it, so he wanted to confirm it.
Miyamoto, however, did not bother about Koushirou’s defensive stance against us and directly inquired, "Fellow Samurai, can you please direct us to where the grandmaster nad Shimotsuki Kozaburo lives?" He asked with a smile that looked creepy on his rugged face, especially with those scars.
"Miyamoto-san, et Shimotsuki Koushirou, descendant of the grandmaster Shimotsuki Kozaburo," I introduced, as both Miyamoto and Koushirou’s eyes widened in surprise. I unleashed my observation haki, covering the whole island and beyond, accurately pinpointing the strongest aura within the island, which was probably the man I was looking for.
Koushirou very much wanted to confront about the blade I was carrying. Shusui was the national treasure of Wano, a revered sword that belonged to their ancestor. Now, a pirate was openly brandishing it as if it were his personal property.
However, he knew that he was no match for . Despite the urge to challenge , Koushirou realized that I was not the kind of monster the World Economy News Paper depicted. Would such a bloodthirsty monster sail around the seas with little children in tow? And from the looks of it, the children were not being forced; they were happily running around, just like any regular children.
"How do you know my na?..." Koushirou questioned warily, though he made no move to draw his sword.
"Well, you know who I am, so it’s only fair that I know who you are, right?" I replied with a wide smile.
Lucci and Robin gave a dumbfounded stare, as if trying to say, That actually makes no sense. You’re an infamous pirate with your face plastered all over the world. They then chanically turned their heads towards Koushirou.
"We’re here to et Kozaburo-sama. Can you please take us to him? If it’s too much trouble, we can find him ourselves," I added with a smile. Koushirou felt a chill run down his spine, sensing that denying my request was not an option.
Koushirou hesitated for a mont, weighing his options. Finally, he nodded and gestured for us to follow him. "This way," he said, his voice steady despite the unease in his eyes.
As we walked through the village, the path winding into the forest, Koushirou’s curiosity and wariness were palpable. He glanced frequently at the legendary blade at my side, struggling with his inner conflict. The villagers, still in awe, whispered among themselves, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and reverence.
As we walked, Koushirou couldn’t help but steal glances at my swords from ti to ti. "That blade... it truly belongs to the sword god Ryuma, doesn’t it?" he finally asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Yes," I confird, "Shusui, the blade wielded by your ancestor Shimotsuki Ryuma himself. It was passed down to with the blessing of the people of Wano."
Miyamoto, walking beside , wanted to laugh at my blatant lie. He had been there when I bargained with the Shogun for Ryuma’s corpse and Shusui. A quick glare from silenced him, though he couldn’t help but suppress a laugh. Miyamoto had co to believe that Shusui had genuinely chosen , so he didn’t think like other samurais in Wano.
Koushirou nodded, deep in thought. "It is an honor to see such a legendary sword in person," he said quietly. "My father will be most interested in eting you both. May I...?" He hesitated, clearly wanting to take a closer look at the legendary blade rumored to have been tempered by the blood of a true dragon.
I drew Shusui slowly, the black blade gleaming ominously in the dappled forest light. Koushirou’s eyes widened as he took in the intricate craftsmanship and the powerful aura emanating from the sword. He reached out, then stopped himself, looking to for permission. I nodded, and he gently took the blade, examining it with the reverence one might show a holy relic.
"It’s heavier than it looks," Koushirou noted, his fingers tracing the edge. "And the craftsmanship... this is truly a masterpiece. My father will be eager to see it."
We continued our walk towards the secluded house of Shimotsuki Kozaburo, the atmosphere growing more solemn with each step. The villagers’ awe-struck whispers faded as we moved deeper into the forest. The trees thickened around us, casting long shadows that danced in the fading light.
Finally, we reached a large clearing past the forest, atop a small hill covered in grassland. This appeared to be the largest plot of land on the entire island. At the summit stood a grand dojo, known as the Isshin Dojo. The front of the dojo was adorned with the Shimotsuki family crest, which consists of two crossed cutlasses.
The Isshin Dojo was an impressive structure, built with dark wooden beams that stood out against the lush greenery. The roof was steep and elegantly curved, reminiscent of traditional architecture, with ornate tiles that glistened in the sunlight. Sliding shoji doors lined the front, opening up to a wide veranda where students were seen practicing their forms.
The dojo exuded a sense of reverence and tranquility. Surrounding the dojo were ticulously maintained gardens, with stone pathways winding through carefully placed rocks, bonsai trees, and blooming flowers, creating a serene environnt for training and ditation.
My gaze shifted to the edge of the plot near the cliff, where a secluded house stood apart from the rest of the facilities. It was modest but sturdy, with a small workshop attached. As we approached, the sound of a hamr striking tal grew louder. Inside the workshop, an elderly man was fully imrsed in forging a sword. His eyes were sharp, and he exuded a quiet power; every movent was precise and purposeful.
Koushirou stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Father, I bring visitors..."
Before Koushirou could interrupt the man’s work, Miyamoto stepped forward and gently stopped him, whispering softly, "Let the grandmaster finish. We will wait." He then turned towards for permission, and I gave a quick nod. Koushirou understood and stepped back.
Turning to Koushirou, I asked, "Would it be alright if the kids visited the dojo?"
Koushirou nodded and signaled to a few others who had gathered to see the visitors. "Arashi san, would you please arrange quarters for our guests?" He then addressed the woman standing next to Arashi, who seed to be Arashi’s wife. "Tera-san, please take care of the children. I’m sure they would like a tour of the dojo."
My mind froze for a second. eting people only ntioned in the canon was one thing, but this was big. Arashi and Tera were the parents of Zoro. I almost wanted to ask if Tera-san was pregnant, but I controlled my curiosity.
Then it clicked: if I go by the canon tiline, this should be around the ti Kuina was born. I subtly scanned the area using my Haki and the Voice of All Things, and sure enough, within the main compound beside the dojo, there was a woman heavily pregnant and due anyti now.
Tera imdiately smiled and stepped up to guide the kids, who curiously went to check out the dojo. Arashi followed them to make arrangents for our stay. My instincts told I would be staying in this village for quite so ti.
Miyamoto, Koushirou, and I waited for nearly two hours as the old man continued forging his new blade. Finally, he examined every inch of the newly forged sword but sighed and murmured, "Sigh! It seems like I need more inspiration. I wonder if it’s the materials I used.
Maybe I should try sothing much rarer." He then carefully set aside the new katana. Despite it being a failure, he showed the blade the respect it demanded. Throughout the session, Miyamoto stood by the door, not wanting to intrude, as swordsmithing techniques were considered sacred and learning them without permission was taboo.
I took my seat casually on the grass by the cliff, enjoying the sea breeze, while Koushirou waited by Miyamoto’s side.
Kozaburo’s eyes widened for an instant as he stepped out of the workshop and laid eyes on Miyamoto. He quickly regained his composure, his gaze shifting to the swords Miyamoto carried. In a soft yet firm tone, he asked, "Are you from the Uzuki family? Why is a samurai so far away from ho?" Kozaburo lit his pipe, but his sharp gaze never left Miyamoto.
Koushirou might not have recognized the blades Miyamoto carried, but Kozaburo imdiately identified their significance. These were no ordinary swords. One of them was among the 21 Great Grade Blades, the illustrious ’Benihi’ (Crimson Princess), a family heirloom of the Uzuki family.
This blade was gifted to Miyamoto by his brother, Uzuki Tempura, the current daimyo of Udon, as Miyamoto had given up his claim to Udon despite being the elder sibling. The other sword, ’Ryu no Tsu’ (Dragon’s claw), was one of the 50 Skillful Grade Blades, bestowed upon Miyamoto by Kozuki Oden himself when Miyamoto declared he would venture out to sea by my side. This blade had been stored in the treasury of the Kozuki family, a testant to its imnse value and history.
Kozaburo’s eyes flickered with a mixture of recognition and curiosity as he studied Miyamoto. "To carry such blades is no small honor. You must be quite the warrior."
Miyamoto bowed deeply in respect, acknowledging the elder’s discerning eye. "Yes, I am from the Uzuki family. My na is Uzuki Miyamoto. I have journeyed far from Wano, accompanying my master, Donquixote Rosinante."
*****
A/N:
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