Bab 3: 3

In the hallowed stillness of the dojo, father and son stood poised, wooden practice swords held aloft. An electric tension crackled between them, their gazes locked in a silent duel of wills. Nearby, their pink-haired Saya, knelt, her wide eyes mirroring the intensity of the scene unfolding before her.

A single sneeze shattered the fragile peace. "Achoo!"

Joichiro, eleven years old and aflame with youthful energy, seized the moment, unleashing a flurry of strikes upon his father, Souichiro. Each blow was met with an effortless parry, the seasoned warrior barely seeming to move as he deflected his son's attacks.

Yet, Joichiro's relentless assault intensified. His movements became a whirlwind, each strike faster and fiercer than the last, a testament to years of rigorous training.

"Joichiro, focus!" Souichiro's voice boomed through the dojo, a calm amidst the storm. "Do not let your emotions control you."

Though holding back his true strength, Souichiro couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he observed his son's raw talent. It wasn't Joichiro's power that impressed him – that would come with time. It was the boy's astonishing speed, his innate ability to move with a fluidity that belied his young age.

Saya, seven years old, watched her brother with a mixture of awe and concern. She marveled at his determination, the way he never gave up, even when his attacks were easily thwarted. Every time he stumbled or faltered, he would spring back up, his resolve unwavering.

Her heart swelled with love and admiration for her oniichan, her big brother. She longed to be just like him someday, to possess the same unwavering spirit and unwavering courage. But for now, she could only watch and offer her silent support.

"Gambatte, oniichan!" she whispered, her voice barely a whisper amidst the rhythmic clash of wood on wood. "You can do it!"

Joichiro, fueled by his sister's encouragement, let out a breathless chuckle. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat echoing his unwavering resolve. He knew he was no match for his father's skill, but the thrill of the challenge, the sheer joy of pushing his limits, filled him with an adrenaline-fueled exhilaration.

"I may not win," he thought, a fierce grin spreading across his face, "but I won't go down easily, old man!"

Souichiro, witnessing the fire in his son's eyes, knew he had to push him further. With a subtle shift in his stance, a movement so slight it was barely perceptible, he channeled a fraction of his true strength into his next block. The impact sent a shockwave through Joichiro's bokken, momentarily numbing his hand.

Without missing a beat, Souichiro seamlessly transitioned into a lightning-fast counter-strike, aimed at Joichiro's exposed side. Time seemed to slow down as the boy's eyes widened in alarm. But years of rigorous training had honed his reflexes to razor sharpness.

With a desperate cry, Joichiro twisted his body, throwing every ounce of his being into raising his own bokken in defense. The two wooden swords collided with a deafening crack, the sheer force of the impact sending a tremor through the dojo.

-thud

"That's gonna hurt for a while" instinctively dropping his bokken with a clatter that echoed through the dojo. He clutched his right hand, his face contorting in a wince as he examined the angry red mark already forming on his forearm. A fleeting moment of pain flickered across his features, but it was quickly replaced by a determined grin. "That one's gonna leave a bruise, dad" he declared, shaking out his stinging hand with a playful chuckle.

Souichiro, his father, watched his son with a mixture of amusement and pride. "Your speed is improving, Joichiro," he acknowledged, his voice warm but firm. "But remember, a true samurai is not defined by speed alone. It is the mastery of technique, the discipline of the mind, and the strength of the spirit that truly matter." He paused, carefully placing his own bokken against the wall, the smooth movement a stark contrast to the intensity of the spar they had just concluded.

Joichiro let out a sigh, his youthful exuberance momentarily dampened by his father's words. "I know, dad," he replied, his shoulders slumping slightly. "But with school starting soon, I won't have as much time to practice." The last part was mumbled under his breath, a hint of adolescent frustration creeping into his voice. He longed to spend every waking moment honing his swordsmanship, but the demands of the outside world were encroaching upon his sanctuary.

"That was amazing, Oniichan!" Saya squealed, her eyes wide with amazement as she watched her brother. "You were so fast, like a ninja!"

Joichiro chuckled, ruffling his little sister's pink hair with a playful grin. "Hehe, I know I'm amazing, Saya-chan! Dad is just too strong for me... for now," he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.