Energetic. Confident. That was the first impression everyone had of the man standing atop the roof. The sun caught on his bright haori, its patterns blazing like fire against the pale wood beneath his feet. He didn't just stand there — he owned the air around him.
"Now that I'm here," he declared, voice ringing across the courtyard, "things are about to get flashy!"
The candidates below stirred. A few murmured in awe, others simply stared. His presence alone was enough to make the air heavy.
"I can't believe that's him…" one young man whispered.
"He's even more handsome than the rumors," another said, a girl this time.
"He looks… cool," added a third, sounding almost defeated.
Sentarō blinked, baffled. "What's with them? Reiko, you know who that is?"
Reiko crossed her arms, shaking her head. "No clue. But let's find out."
She tapped the shoulder of a nearby candidate. "Hey, who's that guy?"
The boy turned to her, wide-eyed. "You're kidding me, right? You don't know him?"
"Humor me," she said flatly.
"That's Hosokawa Tadatoshi — the Ultimate Rookie!"
"Ultimate… what?" Sentarō asked, his brow furrowing.
"Three months ago, in Engeimura Village—"
"In the Kitsune-chō District?" Reiko cut in.
"Yeah, that one. The place got attacked by thirty bandits. He took all of them down by himself. Word spread fast — now everyone calls him the Ultimate Rookie."
Sentarō frowned. "So he's that strong, huh?"
"Strong enough to make a name that big," the boy said.
Before Sentarō could reply—
"HA HA HA HA!!" Tadatoshi's laughter boomed across the yard. He leapt from the roof, landing with a heavy thud that sent dust bursting into the air. The ground cracked slightly under his sandals. When the smoke cleared, his tall frame stood proud — lean, toned, and impossibly confident. His grin was the kind that made men uneasy and women blush.
"So you're this year's candidates?" he said, voice dripping with disappointment. Then, with a sigh, "Pathetic."
The crowd stirred, some frowning, others still smiling dreamily at him. Only Sentarō and Reiko stood unimpressed.
"If this is the level of strength this year," Tadatoshi said, scanning the group, "you'd best go home and train some more. It's embarrassing watching weaklings pretend to be warriors."
Sentarō's jaw tightened. His hand curled into a fist. The way Tadatoshi spoke — the contempt, the arrogance — it stung. Every word spat in the face of those who came here with dreams like his.
He stepped through the crowd. Each footstep echoed, firm and deliberate. When he stopped in front of Tadatoshi, the murmuring grew louder.
Tadatoshi looked down at him, amused. "What do you want?"
"Take it back," Sentarō said quietly.
"What?" Tadatoshi leaned closer, smirking. "Take what back?"
"Your words. About everyone here being weaklings."
The taller man tilted his head, his grin sharpening. "Oh? You don't like the truth, is that it?"
The crowd whispered in nervous excitement.
"Who is that guy?"
"He's picking a fight with Tadatoshi?"
"He's out of his mind…"
Sentarō's anger only deepened. "Say whatever you want about me. But don't insult them."
"Oh, I see." Tadatoshi stepped back, spreading his arms in mock realization. "You can't handle the truth."
"What did you just say?"
"Tell me, boy," Tadatoshi began, pacing around Sentarō like a wolf. "Do you know how many people die in these exams?"
Sentarō stayed silent, but his eyes never left Tadatoshi's.
"Six hundred," Tadatoshi said, grinning. "Out of a thousand. Six hundred corpses rotting in the mud. Do you know why?"
Silence again.
"Because of the weak." Tadatoshi pointed straight at Sentarō. "The exams exist to separate the strong from the weak. It's a mercy, really. The weak die so the strong can rise."
He said it like it was law.
"So you're saying," Sentarō replied, voice steady, "that the weak shouldn't even try?"
"Exactly!" Tadatoshi's answer came with a flourish, his haori flaring in the wind.
"Then you're heartless," Sentarō said, his voice low but heavy. "Everyone here — me, Reiko, even the weakest of us — has a dream worth chasing. You think strength's something you're just born with? No. It's earned. Every damn day."
Tadatoshi scoffed. "You sound like a fool. The weak can't chase anything. Dreams belong to the strong… people like me."
His hand dropped lazily to one of his swords. "You come from a world of weaklings. Let me show you what strength looks like."
The air shifted.
Sentarō didn't hesitate. His blade flashed from its sheath in a clean arc, his body vanishing into a blur — Shunpū.
But—
CLANG!
Sparks exploded as Tadatoshi caught the strike with his Wakizashi, one hand on the hilt, the other resting casually on his hip.
"Pathetic," Tadatoshi said, eyes glinting. "You really thought a swing like that could reach me?"
He twisted his wrist, parrying Sentarō's blade aside with insultingly little effort. Before Sentarō could recover, Tadatoshi was gone.
"SENTARŌ! BEHIND YOU!" Reiko's voice rang out from the crowd.
He turned—
Too late.
Tadatoshi was already mid-swing, blade descending like a flash of lightning. "Let me save the instructors some trouble," he sneered. "I'll kill one weakling early."
Sentarō barely raised his sword in time. Steel crashed against steel. The force slammed him into the ground, back-first, shattering the dirt and sending dust roaring into the air.
The courtyard went dead silent.
"Still breathing?" Tadatoshi muttered, peering through the dust. "You're tougher than you look. The last fool who blocked that swing died where he stood."
Sentarō's body screamed in pain. Blood trickled from his mouth. His thoughts blurred.
How… is he so fast? So strong…?
The dust shifted. Reiko broke from the crowd. Her fist cut through the air like a cannonball — but Tadatoshi caught it with one hand. His grin widened.
"Not bad," he said. "But still—too slow."
The tip of his blade angled toward her chest.
Reiko's eyes widened. She couldn't dodge.
But a hand seized her wrist — Sentarō. He pulled her aside, dragging her out of the sword's path just in time.
Tadatoshi lowered his weapon and chuckled. "Fast, too. You might not be completely worthless."
He stepped closer, grin sharp as glass. "But in the end, you're both still weaklings."
Reiko gritted her teeth. "He caught my punch like it was nothing. Just what the hell is he?"
Sentarō's hand trembled on his sword. Sweat mixed with dust on his skin. Every instinct screamed that he was outmatched — but his pride wouldn't let him bow.
Across from him, Tadatoshi rolled his shoulders, eyes gleaming. "Tell me, weakling. Still think everyone deserves to chase their dream?"
Sentarō didn't answer. His glare said enough.
Tadatoshi smiled. "Good. Then prove it."
He raised his Wakizashi again, its edge glinting beneath the sun.
And just like that, the crowd stepped back — forming a ring around them.
Two samurai stood at the center of the courtyard, one brimming with untamed arrogance, the other with stubborn resolve.
The first clash had already told everyone how it might end. But still… no one looked away.
Because sometimes, even a weak man's defiance burns brighter than any strength.