"Kid, you want to become my student?"
Isshin folded his arms and studied the boy kneeling before him with interest. That carefree, grinning expression still hung on his face.
After following Soichiro Yagyu back to town, he'd shamelessly ignored the chairman's increasingly dark expression and lingered at the Shinkishin Meichi School dojo, freeloading on a sumptuous lunch. Only after he'd eaten his fill did he stroll back, thoroughly satisfied.
To his surprise, someone was already waiting outside his home.
It was the fellow who'd hidden on a hillside in the snow outside town, spying on him and the chairman as they sparred.
The kid got straight to the point. The moment they met, he dropped to his knees with a thud and asked to be accepted as a disciple.
"Yes! Please accept me as your student, Instructor Isshin, and teach me your martial arts!" Yamagami Genya bowed again, his voice carrying from the cold stone slabs.
"Tsk, tsk." Isshin shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Kid, your eyes are like hooks, packed with all sorts of things. Your face practically screams that you've got a tragic past. At a glance, I'd say you're carrying a blood feud—and maybe your family was wiped out, too. My, my! Students like that are the biggest hassle. They're hard to teach, and they come with a whole lot of baggage."
His words were so blunt they bordered on cruel, like a cold dagger prying open the calm facade Yamagami Genya had struggled to maintain.
Yamagami Genya trembled and lowered his head even further. His lips pressed together until they turned pale, and the hope that had just flared in his heart felt as though it had been doused in ice water.
Yet just as he thought he was about to be rejected outright,