After the ship left Loguetown behind, Ryu turned toward the ship's captain with a small, smile.
"Captain, before we set course for the West Blue, I'd like to make a stop at Shimotsuki Village. I know it isn't part of our agreement, but I promise to compensate you generously in return."
The captain chuckled lightly, and nodded his head to Ryu.
"As you wish, Ryu-san. As long as you compensate us, a short detour won't be a problem."
The ship's captain turned to his crew, and commanded them.
"You heard Ryu-san. Set the coordinates and chart a course for Shimotsuki Village—let's move!"
Without hesitation, the crew swung the ship around, cutting through the waves as they set course for Shinosuke Village.
______
One week later
In the early morning light, Ryu practiced his swordsmanship. His blade sliced through the air with effortless grace, each movement precise and fluid. His feet glided across the deck, nimble and controlled, as if he were performing a dance—one beautiful, yet lethal. Every swing, every step, was a deadly rhythm, a silent testament to his mastery.
The crew, eyes wide and breaths held, watched Ryu's swordsmanship with awe, utterly captivated by the fluid grace of his every move.
At that moment, the captain of the ship strode across the creaking deck, the wind tugging at his coat. When his eyes landed on Ryu. He smiled and said to him.
"Ryu-san, we'll be arriving at Shimotsuki Village in ten minutes."
Ryu halted his training, sheathing his practice sword in a single, fluid motion. A broad smile spread across his face, radiating both confidence and joy.
"Good. Thank you for your help Robert. I have an important matter to attend to here in this village. Once that's settled, we'll head straight to the West Blue."
Robert nodded, and the ship sliced through the waves, heading straight for Shimotsuki Village.
After the ship eased into the port, Ryu leapt from its deck with effortless grace, his body slicing through the air before landing silently and nimbly on the wooden pier, like a shadow blending with the morning light.
He started walking towards the village while thinking.
'Now that I'm here, I need to find my grandfather's friend so he can start forging my new sword. He must be well-known in this village, especially since it's named after his clan. All I have to do is ask the villagers where he is.'
Ryu smiled and nodded in satisfaction after coming up with his plan. Without a moment of hesitation, he strode toward the village.
After stepping into the village, Ryu's lips curved into a soft smile. The streets were narrow and winding, lined with quaint wooden houses that smelled faintly of woodsmoke and fresh bread. Compared to the bustling chaos of Logue Town or the familiar clamor of his own village where he had grown up, this place was almost eerily calm—but in the best way.
Children ran barefoot along the dirt paths, their laughter tinkling like wind chimes in the quiet air. An old man swept the porch of his house, humming a melody that seemed to blend perfectly with the gentle rustle of cherry blossom trees swaying in the breeze. The river at the edge of the village glimmered under the sun, reflecting the silhouettes of birds that darted playfully above.
Though the village was small, Ryu felt a warmth that no city or crowded town had ever given him. Every corner seemed filled with life, yet free of rush and worry. He took a deep breath, savoring the subtle mix of wood, earth, and river mist, and felt a strange sense of belonging settle over him, like he had stumbled into a place that had been waiting for him all along.
Ryu began asking around about Shimotsuki Kouzaburou, his grandfather's old friend. However, every villager he spoke to simply shook their heads, saying they had never heard of him. Eventually, a few of them pointed him toward the village dojo, suggesting he ask there instead, since it was run by a man named Shimotsuki Koushirou.
Ryu's interest was instantly piqued when he heard about the dojo. Since it was a swordsmanship dojo, he quickly asked the villagers where it was located.
After the villagers pointed out the dojo's location, Ryu strode forward confidently… only to head in the complete opposite direction.
The villagers who had helped Ryu instantly sweat-dropped when they saw him walking in the exact opposite direction, looking far too confident for someone who was completely lost.
The villagers frantically called out to him, trying to tell him he was going the wrong way, but Ryu had already marched off too far, completely missing their desperate warnings.
_______
When the sunset arrived
Ryu was in an absolutely foul mood, loudly cursing the villagers as he stomped off in the wrong direction.
"Damn those villagers… They're messing with me and sending me the wrong way. Maybe I should go back there and teach them a lesson."
When Ryu reached the top of the hill, he spotted an old man calmly smoking his pipe as he gazed out at the sea before him.
He wore a simple gray kimono, the fabric worn but dignified. A thick unibrow jutted sharply across his face, giving him a perpetually stern expression. His hair, streaked gray and white, was gathered into a small ponytail, while a neatly trimmed beard framed his jawline. A faint scar traced his left temple, hinting at a past filled with battles and stories untold.
Ryu let out a soft shrug, his expression unreadable, and slowly walked toward him.
"Oi, old man! Do you know where I can find Shimotsuki Kouzaburou?"
The old man slowly turned his head, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits as they locked onto Ryu.
"Who are you, boy? And what do you want with Shimotsuki Kouzaburou?"
Ryu raised his hands slowly, his voice gentle, trying to soothe the old man's rising anger.
"Oi, oi! Calm down, old man. My grandfather told me to find him—he's the one who will forge my new sword."
The old man slowly turned his head, his eyes barely acknowledging Ryu before returning to the horizon, as if the boy didn't exist.
"I don't care who your grandfather is, boy. I've no desire to forge any more swords."
Ryu's face lit up with a wide grin. Without hesitation, he yanked the black wooden box from his bag and strode purposefully toward Shimotsuki Kouzaburou.
"My grandfather told me… if you see the ore within, you'd want to forge a sword for me."
Kouzaburou's eyes flickered with curiosity as he reached for the black wooden box, lifting its lid to reveal what lay inside.
His eyes widened in astonishment as he laid eyes on the blood-crimson ore, its ominous aura sending a chill down his spine.
After taking a deep breath, Kouzaburou's frown softened into a wide smile, and a spark of brightness lit up his eyes.
'This is it… I might finally forge a sword that rivals—or even surpasses—that man's creation.'
'Enma… it was meant to be my masterpiece that surpasses that sword. But I faltered at the final stage… a single mistake. Every day since, I've regretted it. She could have been a true beauty… the perfect sword.'
Kouzaburou gently closed the black wooden box, his gaze shifting slowly to meet Ryu's.
"Tell me, boy… who is your grandfather?"
Ryu smiled warmly at Kouzaburou and replied.
"My grandfather… is Miyamoto Musashi."
Kouzaburou's eyes twinkled as the name reached him, and a low chuckle escaped his lips.
"So… you're his grandson, KYAHAHA! Not bad, kid—your aura is sharp. That senile old fool trained you well, I can see it!"
Ryu chuckled softly at that, and Kouzaburou's eyes narrowed as he spoke.
"Listen, boy… I'll forge you a sword from that blood-crimson ore. But it's been far too long since I last stood before the forge… I'll need to get my body back in shape before I begin crafting your blade."
Ryu raised an eyebrow, a spark of curiosity in his eyes, and asked softly.
"How long until you get in shape and forge the sword? I'm heading to the West Blue—I need a proper blade. I can't keep relying on my training katana."
Kouzaburou was surprise, but after a brief pause, he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"Listen, kid… I may need a week—or even months—to get back into shape. But mark my words: the sword I forge for you will be a masterpiece… a true work of beauty!"
Ryu couldn't help but smile, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head.
"Fine… old man. I will wait patiently. My grandfather trusts you, and I will too."
Kouzaburou chuckled softly, his fingers curling around the black wooden box as he rose to his feet, eyes glinting with quiet anticipation.
"Follow me, kid. I'll take you to meet my son—he's a great swordsman and the dojo master in this village. You could learn a great deal from him."
Ryu's eyes lit up at those words, and without a moment's hesitation, he fell in step behind Kouzaburou.
______