Thunderclap and Flash

Three days later.

Mount Momoyama.

The scenery here was nothing like cold, damp Mount Sagiri. Peach trees covered the mountainside, and although there were no peach blossoms this season, their lush green leaves still gave everything a vibrant sense of life.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves onto the stone steps, lending them a lazy air.

Yet that languor was soon shattered by a deafening roar.

"Idiot! Are you a pig?! How many times have I told you? The essence of Thunder Breathing lies in the legs! In an explosive burst concentrated on a single point! Look at how you swung your sword just now. So feeble you might as well have been tickling the tree!"

Following the stone steps halfway up the mountain, Rokuya came upon a spacious training ground.

At its center stood a short old man wearing a yellow haori patterned with white triangles. He had a full head of white hair and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Most striking of all, his right leg was a thick wooden prosthesis.

At that moment, the old man was waving his wooden cane and furiously bellowing at a black-haired boy kneeling on the ground.

"Jigoro Kuwajima." Hands in his pockets, Rokuya stood at the edge of the training ground and studied the old man with interest.

The kneeling boy gritted his teeth, his eyes glinting with gloom and resentment. Clenching his fists, he protested under his breath, "Master, I've been working hard! But the First Form's explosive power is too difficult to control. I think I could start with the other forms..."

"Shut up!!"

Jigoro Kuwajima struck the boy on the head with his cane, knocking him off balance.

"The foundation of Thunder Breathing is the First Form! If you can't even learn the most basic draw-and-charge move, what good will learning the other flashy tricks do you?! Kaigaku, you've disappointed me terribly! Run fifty laps around Mount Momoyama! No food until you're finished!"

The boy named Kaigaku clutched his head and glared viciously at the ground, then got up without a word and ran out of the training ground. As he passed Rokuya, he shot him a cold sidelong glance, his eyes full of wariness and hostility.

Rokuya ignored him entirely and strode straight into the training ground.

"Old man, getting that angry is bad for your health," Rokuya drawled, casually pulling out Urokodaki's letter of recommendation and waving it in his hand.

Jigoro Kuwajima turned and sized Rokuya up with sharp eyes.

"Who are you? How did you get into my dojo?" The old man's voice was still loud, like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment.

"My name's Takanashi Rokuno. I'm here for further training." Rokuya strode forward and handed him the letter. "That old fellow Sakonji Urokodaki told me to give you this."

"Urokodaki?" Jigoro Kuwajima frowned and snatched the letter. He gave Rokuya a suspicious look, then opened the envelope and quickly scanned its contents.

As he read, the old man's expression grew strange. First, he raised his grizzled eyebrows. Then the corners of his mouth twitched twice despite himself. Finally, he actually let out a dry, raspy laugh.

"Interesting... very interesting." Jigoro Kuwajima put away the letter and planted his cane heavily on the ground. "That masked clam Urokodaki actually used words like 'monster' and 'demolition' to describe you in his letter. He even said you used brute force to turn Water Breathing into a tsunami, and shattered that sword-testing boulder?"

"The rock was too brittle. Not my fault." Rokuya shrugged, looking utterly innocent.

Jigoro Kuwajima snorted. "Urokodaki sent you to me because he wants me to teach you Thunder Breathing's speed to make up for your sluggishness. But boy, look at all those muscles. Solid, yes, but I can tell how heavy they are just by looking. Thunder Breathing calls for lightness and lightning-like bursts of power. With your build, you can't learn it!"

"Whether I can learn it isn't for you to decide." Rokuya's gaze darkened slightly, and a defiant sneer curled his lips. "I didn't come all this way to listen to a lecture. Just teach me how to generate the force. I'll handle the rest myself."

"Arrogant brat!"

Jigoro Kuwajima's eyes flew wide. With his fiery temper, how could he stand such a provocation?

Without any warning, the old man moved!

Despite having lost his right leg, he moved with staggering speed. All Rokuya saw was a yellow flash.

"Hiss-"

It was the sound of an intensely compressed breath.

The next second, Jigoro Kuwajima's cane shot straight toward Rokuya's chest like a striking snake, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle!

"So fast!"

Rokuya's pupils contracted sharply. His brain had reacted, but it was already too late for his body to draw his sword. This strike was faster than that sickle demon by more than a single degree!

If I can't dodge it, then I won't!

Rokuya let out a low growl. Rather than retreat even half a step, he thrust out his chest while his right hand reached for the incoming cane with the precision of an iron clamp.

Thud!

The cane slammed hard into Rokuya's chest with a dull thud. The powerful impact instantly shattered the flagstones beneath his feet, forcing him to slide half a meter backward and plow two deep furrows in the ground.

At the same time, however, his right hand clamped tightly around the other end of the cane.

"What?!" A flicker of shock crossed Jigoro Kuwajima's eyes.

Though he had not put his full strength into that strike, even an ordinary Hashira would not dare take it head-on with their bare body, much less catch his Thunder Breathing-infused cane with one hand.

The vibrations from the cane numbed Rokuya's palm, but instead of letting go, he gradually tightened his grip.

Creak... creak...

Under Rokuya's terrifying strength, the tough wooden cane actually groaned under the strain, tiny cracks spreading across its surface.

"Old man, your speed really is impressive." Rokuya raised his head, his eyes burning with a feverish fighting spirit. "But your strength isn't much. If this is Thunder Breathing, it's nowhere near enough to impress me!"

"You really don't know your limits, brat!!"

Rather than rage, Jigoro Kuwajima laughed. He snapped his wrist, sending an even stronger burst of vibrations through the cane and forcibly shaking Rokuya's hand loose. Using the reaction force, the old man leaped several meters back and landed steadily.

As he looked at Rokuya, some of the disdain in his eyes gave way to gravity and appreciation.

"Urokodaki wasn't exaggerating. That body of yours really is monstrous. Your defense and strength are both exceptional." Jigoro Kuwajima took a deep breath and held his cane horizontally at his side. "But you didn't see my movements clearly just now, did you? If I'd been holding a real sword, I would have already pierced your chest."

Rokuya did not argue, because it was true. Against that level of speed, unless he kept Demon Form active for defense the entire time, he would not even have a chance to counterattack.

"Watch closely, brat."

Jigoro Kuwajima slowly lowered his body, driving the wooden prosthesis on his right hand deep into the soil. His left hand pressed against his waist as he assumed an extremely strange sword-drawing stance.

"Didn't you want to learn ultimate speed? Then I'll show you what true... thunder is."

Rokuya held his breath, staring intently at the old man's every movement.

At that moment, the air seemed to freeze.

"Thunder Breathing, First Form..."

"Thunderclap and Flash!"