Ichigo spent the rest of the afternoon in deep thought, his mind fixated on a single goal: finding a sword master. He walked back to the Uzumaki compound, the conversation with Megumi echoing in his mind. He found Amanai and Yasu already there, engaged in a conversation with Akira and Saori.
"So, how's the village treating you?" Ichigo asked, joining the group.
Akira, the young boy, smiled brightly. "The village seems good," he said with a cheerfulness that seemed to contradict the hardships his family had endured.
Saori, more reserved, fiddled with a strand of her red hair. "It's good," she said softly. "Thank you."
"So, what are you guys planning to do now?" Yasu asked.
"I want to see the whole village," Saori replied, her eyes wide with a quiet curiosity.
The four children spent the rest of the day exploring Kumogakure. As they walked, Akira and Saori recounted their story, a tale of a long and difficult journey. After the destruction of the Uzumaki clan, they had wandered from village to village, but no place felt safe. They had even sought refuge in Konoha, but were nearly taken for research. They had barely escaped, saved only by the fact that they were not from the main family line.
They must only value the main families, Ichigo thought, a grim realization washing over him. That's why only Kushina was kept safe in Konoha. It was a chilling thought, a testament to the cold, calculating nature of the shinobi world.
The time they spent together deepened their bond. Akira, with his boundless energy and mischievous grin, reminded Ichigo of Jiraiya. At one point, Ichigo and Yasu had to physically restrain the boy from entering the ladies' restroom. Saori, despite her young age, was the strict, diligent elder sister, often scolding her brother for his antics. She was a welcome counter to Akira's chaotic energy.
That night, as he lay in his bed at the orphanage, Ichigo had an idea. He would find the sword masters stationed at the Weapon Manufacturing plant. It was a risky move, but it was his only option. He had a goal, and he wasn't going to let anything stop him.
The next morning, after his physical training, he went straight to work. He finished his usual duties and, during his break, approached one of the samurai from the Land of Iron who was stationed there. The samurai's name was Arata.
"Arata-san," Ichigo said, his heart pounding in his chest. "I have a request."
Arata, a man with a stern but kind face, looked at him with a gentle smile. "Ichigo, what is it?"
"Arata-san, can you teach me swordsmanship?"
Arata's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered. "Are you sure, Ichigo? It's a difficult path. You must be diligent and disciplined."
Ichigo nodded firmly, his resolve unwavering. "I am."
And so, Ichigo's swordsmanship training began.
Arata's teaching philosophy was simple and brutally effective. The foundation was built on two core principles: stability and accuracy. A shaky hand, Arata explained, could never be accurate. The sword had to become an extension of the wielder's body. Only once this was achieved could one focus on speed. "Why have a fast strike when your sword will not move as you wish?" Arata would often say.
The training was a two-step process:
Stability: Ichigo would hold a wooden sword with a heavy weight attached to the end. The goal was to keep it perfectly balanced. This wasn't about strength; it was about training his hands to be so steady that the sword felt like a natural part of his arm, not an object to be held.
Accuracy: Once he had mastered stability, he moved on to accuracy. He would kick a tree, sending a cascade of leaves fluttering to the ground. Then, with his wooden sword, he would attempt to slash or stab the falling leaves. Because the wooden sword was dull, the wind generated by his movements would push the leaf away. If he managed to hit it, it meant he had achieved both accuracy and speed.
They covered the basic sword styles: Parry, Riposte, Slash, Stab, Lunge, Sweep, and Block. These were the fundamentals of Kenjutsu, the true art of the blade.
Ichigo, ever the curious student, asked Arata about wielding dual swords and incorporating ninjutsu into his fighting style.
Arata listened patiently and then explained. "Dual swords are fine, but it's difficult to accommodate ninjutsu. You need to convert a lot of hand signs into one-handed ones, which is much harder than you think."
Ichigo took Arata's words to heart. For now, he would focus on the basics with a single wooden sword. The path to becoming a Kenjutsu master was a long one, and he had just taken the first step.
A few days later, while Ichigo was training alone, he heard a sudden shout. Yasu came running toward him, his face a mix of anger and frustration.
"Ichigo," he said, out of breath. "Have you heard the rumors?"
"What rumors?" Ichigo asked, his hand still on his wooden sword.
"They're claiming that the Uzumaki are planning a coup d'état against Kumo for revenge!" Yasu spat out, his voice seething with anger.
Ichigo's mind went blank for a moment. What the fuck? he thought, his blood running cold.