After what happened with Toji, Zoro had doubled his efforts.
It didn't matter how little improvement he felt.
It didn't matter how the fatigue, hunger, and frustration piled up day after day.
He endured.
For three more months, he persevered, imposing on himself a discipline that bordered on absurd for a child of that age.
Every day was the same.
Same position.
Same silence.
Same apparent failure.
Until that day.
"Toji, don't go too far. Don't leave the shack."
I threw those words toward my brother, who was once again running around endlessly.
As always, we were alone.
Left to fend for ourselves.
One of the few advantages of this situation was that I no longer needed to hide the fact that I could already speak perfectly.
There was no one to be surprised.
No one to worry about it.
Toji had long since taken his first steps, and it was becoming painfully obvious that this old hut was no longer enough to contain his thirst for adventure.
Every corner had been explored, overturned, sniffed.
And yet, he kept going.
After making sure he stayed within my field of vision, I moved toward the center of the room and resumed my training.
I sat down on the floor.
I closed my eyes.
And I focused.
Just like I had done hundreds of times before.
I tried to extend my awareness beyond my own body, to push the limits of my perception.
To feel.
Anything.
Toji, who had been right next to me only moments ago, approached silently.
He circled around me, watching with curiosity.
Then, with the clumsy discretion that defined him, he slipped behind me.
I was too focused to notice his presence.
Ironic, considering that this was exactly what I was training for.
At the time, it didn't even cross my mind.
Once behind me, Toji flashed a mischievous grin before throwing himself at me and suddenly starting to tickle me.
I knew his antics.
He did this often.
But this time…
It made me frown so much.
I was determined not to give up, sure—but that didn't mean I wasn't frustrated.
Quite the opposite.
Especially when my training was going nowhere.
Especially when an overexcited little cockroach couldn't stop himself from disturbing me while I was desperately trying to ensure both our survival.
Annoyed, at my limit, I violently broke free from his grip, turned toward him, and yelled right in his face:
"WILL YOU STOP IT ALREADY, TOJI?! I DON'T HAVE TIME TO PLAY WITH YOU!"
Being a baby didn't offer many opportunities to vent accumulated frustration.
And unfortunately, it all spilled onto Toji at that precise moment.
I immediately turned back around to resume my training.
Then I heard it.
Muffled sobs.
I slowly turned back.
Toji stood there, motionless, his eyes filled with tears as he awkwardly tried to hold them back.
His small hands were trembling.
Guilt and worry assaulted me instantly, wiping away every trace of anger.
I stepped toward him gently.
To my surprise, he stepped back.
That simple gesture hurt more than I expected.
More than I wanted to admit.
I stopped.
I sat back down on the floor.
Then I spoke in a calm, controlled voice.
"I'm sorry, Toji… I don't know what came over me. I lost it. Please forgive me."
I didn't know whether he truly understood my words or if he was simply sensing my emotions.
But his crying stopped.
I opened my arms.
"Come on. Give your big brother a hug."
Before I even realized it, he jumped into my arms laughing, squirming as if nothing had happened.
I smiled.
I started playing with him, but my mind was elsewhere.
Still stuck on that moment.
"I crossed the line."
Training had consumed me to the point that I had lost sight of what truly mattered.
"But how does it work…"
Zoro had never been a man of theory.
For him, everything went through sensation.
Through instinct.
So how did he do it?
How did he feel things?
How did he understand them?
And suddenly—
It clicked.
My eyes widened, stunned by my own stupidity.
"Haha… how could I not think of that."
It was obvious.
"The way of the sword."
Everything Zoro understood about combat, he understood through the sword.
I stood up under Toji's intrigued gaze.
I took a basic guard stance.
Right foot forward.
Left foot slightly back.
Right hand clenched above the left, mimicking the grip of an imaginary bokken.
I focused again.
Even though my mind felt clearer than ever, there was still nothing.
My brows furrowed.
"It's not working?"
I took a deep breath to chase away the frustration creeping back in.
"No… that's not it."
I was misunderstanding the very concept of Haki.
"Haki is based on will. My will."
But was that really all there was to it?
"How could my will alone allow me to sense so many things?"
Haki was neither mana nor chakra.
It wasn't something you simply spread around yourself.
It was deeper than that.
"Wait… what if what I'm supposed to feel isn't my will… but the will of others?"
The image of Enel came to mind.
Despite his Mantra, he had been powerless against Luffy's hazardous, bouncing attacks.
Sure, Enel wasn't a true master of Observation Haki…
But he undeniably grasped its fundamentals.
That realization gave me a new perspective.
I resumed my stance.
I closed my eyes.
But this time, I wasn't searching for a presence.
I was searching for something else.
Will.
After a few minutes, something changed in the black landscape surrounding me.
A faint glow.
Distant.
Unstable.
It wasn't clear or solid… but it existed.
Little by little, that light grew denser.
It took shape.
First the legs.
Then the arms.
Finally, the head.
Small.
Delicate.
It was Toji's form.
A smile spread across my lips.
"I did it."
The moment my concentration broke, the image vanished.
A violent pain pierced my skull.
I collapsed to the floor, gasping.
Large drops of sweat streamed down my face.
But my smile didn't fade.
After six months of relentless effort—
I had succeeded.
"I had unlocked Observation Haki."
Please spam power stone guys