Chapter 160: The Rules of the Dojo
On Wednesday morning, the Karakuraza dojo was bustling with activity much
earlier than usual.
Two unfamiliar figures stood out among the morning drills. One wore a
yellow-green haori, the other a deep crimson coat. Standing alongside the
regular Slayers clad in standard black uniforms, they looked distinctive enough
to draw curious glances.
Clearly, those two have some serious stats, the other trainees thought.
Thanks to the village rumor mill—fueled mostly by the Kakushi—most of the dojo
already knew that these two boys, much like the Deputy Captain, were old
acquaintances of Natsuya. They were junior disciples from back when the Luminary
Hashira was still touring the countryside learning his Breathing Styles.
With backgrounds like that, even if they lacked official Pillar status, the
local Slayers assumed they had to be at least on par with Yukibashiri Seiko.
"That guy with the mask is named Sabito. He's only a Shinotsume (Rank 8) Slayer,
but rumor has it his Water Breathing is terrifyingly deep..."
"And the other one? The quiet one who hasn't said a word?"
"Tomioka Giyu. Water Breathing, too. His combat power is probably at least
standard Kinoto (Rank 2)..."
Giyu and Sabito weren't deaf. Overhearing the whispered praise, they felt a
sudden, heavy wave of imposter syndrome.
We only just passed the Final Selection! How did these people turn us into
high-tier veterans overnight?!
Neither of them knew that Seiko had set the bar unusually high for anyone
carrying the "Natsuya's Disciple" label.
Just then, a local Slayer shouted across the yard, "Hey, you two newbies! Show
us what you're made of!"
"Yeah! It's the dojo rule—every strong newcomer has to show off a trick!"
"Wait, do we even have that rule?"
"Shut up, can't you see we're trying to hype them up?!"
Sabito offered an awkward, bitter smile. "Fellow seniors... I just passed the
exam, I'm really not as strong as you think—"
"Huh? Is that a rule?" The black-haired Giyu, however, took it at face value. He
calmly picked up a wooden practice sword and turned to the crowd. "What do we
need to do? Should I spar with all of you?"
Sabito: "..." Giyu, you honest idiot! Can't you tell they're just messing with
us?!
Another Slayer laughed. "Quick! Someone go fetch 'Old Ancestor' Kugisaki!
Another arrogant kid wants a beating!"
Kugisaki Yamahana—due to her fiery temper, solid stats, and popular
appearance—had naturally evolved into one of the "boss monsters" of the dojo.
Anyone new who looked competent was invariably pushed toward her as a welcoming
ritual.
She was effectively the local gatekeeper and skill-check. Of course, Kugisaki
despised those titles and usually rewarded anyone who used them with a thorough
thrashing.
Fortunately for the newcomers, Yamahana wasn't at the dojo today. (She was
taking a personal day for her period).
Robbed of their favorite gatekeeper, the crowd redirected their attention to the
other two members of "Team 7": Kozura Yuhito and Togashi Hai.
Though neither possessed Yamahana's raw lethality, they were still hardened
veterans of the dojo.
"Yuhito, it's not a girl this time. You've gotta step up!"
Yuhito, currently in the middle of a stance drill, snapped his head around to
glare at Giyu and Sabito. The two boys looked younger than him by a few years.
Yuhito shook his head. "I'm not fighting kids."
Togashi, leaning against a post, deadpanned, "First it was girls, now it's
children? What's next, Yuhito? Are you going to say you only fight demons?"
"Come on, they're just kids. Even if they're the Luminary Hashira's juniors,
they can't be that strong..."
Yuhito's eyes landed on a certain Slayer named Shota nearby. He said bluntly,
"Isn't there another guy here who's an actual classmate of the Hashira? His
combat stats are way lower than Yukibashiri's."
Shota, minding his own business: "..."
Why did you have to drag me into this?!
Sensing the challenge in the air, Sabito's eyes flickered with a quiet,
competitive spark. Giyu remained entirely expressionless, though his fingers
tightened around his hilt.
They had both studied under Urokodaki, and they had both been put through the
meat-grinder by Natsuya. Even if they hadn't reached Constant yet, their
foundation was miles ahead of an average rookie.
"Yuhito... should we spar with them?" Sabito whispered.
Giyu's voice was deadpan. "I think we should."
Just as the atmosphere in the courtyard was heating up, a crisp, calm voice cut
through the tension from the veranda.
"What are you all huddled up for? Natsuya-kun is about to come out and inspect
the training logs."
"Good morning, Deputy Captain Yukibashiri!" "We'll get right back to it,
Seiko-san!"
The crowd scattered instantly like a flock of startled sparrows, each Slayer
snatching up their wooden sword and hyper-focusing on their forms.
The two newcomers stared at the girl who had just arrived.
Sabito blinked, recognizing her. "Ah. Good morning, Yukibashiri-san."
Giyu added, "Giyu, morning."
Seiko offered a polite, gentle smile. "Sabito-kun, Giyu-kun. I'm glad you two
made it safely."
She paused, looking at them with a knowing look. "If you're looking for
Natsuya-kun, he's finishing up breakfast in the kitchen. But fair warning—he's
got a rigorous schedule planned for you two."
She had noticed their new ranks: Sabito was a Shinotsume (Rank 8), and Giyu was
a Mizunoe (Rank 9).
Knowing Natsuya's methodology, they were likely going to be thrown straight into
Group A—the "Raid Class"—to be beaten into shape alongside veterans.
As if on cue, the kitchen door slid open.
A young man stepped out into the crisp morning air, wearing a structured dark
tunic under a white haori that fluttered in the breeze.
"No need to wait. Breakfast is already done."
Natsuya's voice carried that signature lazy cadence. He looked over the
courtyard, his eyes landing on Sabito and Giyu.
"Oh? The Uchiha brats finally showed up."
"Good. You guys came just in time for the special curriculum."
Sabito and Giyu exchanged a look. Special curriculum? That doesn't sound good.
Ten minutes later, the illusion of a peaceful dojo was completely shattered.
"Too slow! Sabito, your footwork is dragging!" "Giyu, you're telegraphing your
thrust! If you try that against a Lower Moon, your head is staying on the
floor!" "Focus! Defensive frames are meant to be tight, not wide open!"
Natsuya wasn't using a wooden sword today. He was using his bare fists,
demonstrating why he was the "Demon Instructor." Every time one of them made a
mechanical error, he would tap them firmly with an iron-hard knuckle—just enough
to bruise ego and muscle alike.
By midday, both boys were lying flat on their backs in the dirt, staring at the
sky, utterly exhausted.
"Is this... the training of a Hashira?" Kyojuro—who was visiting from
Tokyo—gasped, wiping sweat from his brow.
"No," Natsuya corrected, tossing a water skin toward Sabito. "This is just the
warm-up."
After letting them catch their breath, Natsuya transitioned into the afternoon
phase: Squad Coordination Drills.
"Alright, listen up! Divide yourselves into two teams—Red and Blue!"
"We're running mock pincer maneuvers. If your squad breaks formation or fails to
cover your teammates' recovery frames, you're running five miles around Sendai!"
For the rest of the day, the Karakuraza dojo echoed with shouted tactical calls,
the sharp crack of wooden swords, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the
ground.
Through it all, Natsuya stood on the sidelines, holding a clipboard (which was
actually just a menu for dinner), checking off progress bars in his head.
Group A's synergy is scaling up nicely. Mentorship LV.3 is ticking up steady XP.
Life is good.
☆☆☆
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