It was a long walk back to the small town of Ibishe. Carrying the sword of the now deceased Katsua as proof of killing him, Rutaro breathed in a deep sigh; years ago, when he was still considered a boy, he would never have dreamed of actually being a ronin and having to kill someone. Sure, he idolized samurai, along with many of the other boys in his village, and practiced swordplay himself.

It was on a fateful day, years ago, that his future was revealed to him.

Six years ago…

The young Rutaro stood, wooded katana in hand, a grin on his face. His opponent, Kitabi Turo, was a heavy-set boy, entered the established dueling ground in the center of Fushi village. A crowd followed of assorted people, both old and young, including the village protectors; the samurai always enjoyed watching a rising talent, and Rutaro was such.

"Ready to lose your title, Mattan?" Turo lazily spun his sword in a circle; Rutaro disregarded the comment, thinking to himself and keeping his trademark calm before fighting.

He may be lax now, but Turo actually possesses some skill. I'll have to be careful…

Then Rutaro spotted her, a girl who gave him chills, and not the bad kind.

Mitimona Hikara wore her hair down and long, regardless of what her peers told her. Her olive green eyes were uncommon, yet hauntingly beautiful at the same time. Her kimono was a soft blue, and she always wore a trademark necklace of sakura blossoms. And her smile…Rutaro shivered, afflicted by affection.

As if she could sense his gaze, Hikara looked up at Rutaro and they locked eyes. She automatically smiled -her angelic smile- and waved at him. He blushed and grinned in reply.

A boy with a long ponytail strode up and addressed the crowd. "Gather round, gather round! Another duel today, announced by yours truly, Ebotan!" He received acclaim from several girls on the sidelines, to which he bowed theatrically. Rutaro smiled at his friend's antics.

"Thank you, thank you! But I'm not the main attraction here; performing again his exceptional skill is Rutaro Mattan!"

Much of the gathered crowd erupted in cheers; to Rutaro's delight, Hikara was one of them, smiling and cheering with enthusiasm. He bowed humbly and the cheers escalated.

Ebo waved people down until it was quiet again. "Okay…rambunctious bunch of people…the challenger is Kitabi Turo! Give it up!" A smaller but considerable rougher crowd shouted and cheered as Turo walked up, pumping his fist in the air and laughing. Several of Rutaro's fans shook their heads and scowled; Mattan himself just smirked.

After the noise died down, Ebo ran to the center of the sparring circle in the clearing; raising both of his hands, he addressed the two fighters as they walked up. "'Before you two start, is there anything you have to say to each other?"

Turo eyed Rutaro for a moment, spat and said derisively, "I haven't anything to say to this fool who thinks he can wield a sword. This won't take long." He raised his katana and pointed a hand at his opponent, his signature stance.

Rutaro shifted his feet and held his katana, angled, at his side. He leaned slightly to one side, flicked his eyes towards Hikara for a second, then back to Turo.

"That's true, Turo. I'll beat you with fewer moves than you can count on one hand."

Even as the heavy-set fighter simmered at Rutaro's remark, Ebo raised his hands high, and brought them down to the ground. "FIGHT BEGIN!" Both boys rushed forward, eyes trained on each other.

Noticed by no one, a man with a ponytail and glasses watched from the sidelines, amongst the others in the crowd.

Rutaro leapt high as Turo swept low with his sword. Landing, he met his opponent with swift blocks, their wooded swords clacking loudly as they crossed thrice, left, high, and right. Sidestepping a jab, Turo flipped his blade around and made a kill swing at Rutaro's head, causing the crowd to gasp.

Rutaro wasn't there.

With a series of whack, thwam and smack, Turo was beat off his feet and to the ground, groaning at the pain from his wrist, chest, and head. Rutaro stood over him, panting lightly and aiming the tip of his weapon at his defeated opponent. With a broad grin Rutaro spoke.

"I win."

The crowd erupted in applause and screams of amazement. The young of the village rushed Mattan, clapping him on the back and raising his hand in victory. Turo pushed off the ground and limped away, nursing his broken pride. A handful of his faithful followers trailed dejectedly after him.

Ebo fought his way in through the milling children, teens and adults to his friend's side as Rutaro was raised on shoulders in victory. "Ladies and gentlemen! RUTARO MATTAN! Their cries echoed across the rolling hills and through the valley…

Later that night, Rutaro was sitting atop a house drinking a cup of sake, finally alone and away from the insanity. Sighing in contentment, he leaned back and stared at the night sky, feeling somewhat accomplished at giving Turo a lesson in humility.

"Excuse me…Rutaro Mattan?"

Sitting up at hearing his name called, the young swordsman looked down to see and unfamiliar face. The man was clad in a blue kimono with black pants, and seemed to be wearing specs of some sort. Always cordial when he could be, Rutaro leapt down from his spot and walked up. "Yes. May I help you, sir?"

"I witnessed your fight today, and I must say you are fairly skilled for someone your age."

Rutaro smiled. "Yeah, I hear that a lot. Thanks, Mr.-"

"Jinn. You can call me Jinn."

The boy nodded and bowed in respect. As he did, he froze; there at the blue clad man's waist was a katana and a wakizashi. The real deal.

Jinn…he's a samurai! I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't know, it's-"

"Alright," Jinn cut in with a chuckle. "I merely wished to give you my compliment, and learn if I could where you learned from."

Head still spinning at the prospect of a samurai, who radiated skill, wishing to talk to a juvenile like himself, Rutaro leaned against a wall. "Uh, sure. Well, I mostly just pretended when I was younger, whenever I heard stories. Then when I got older I watched the village protectors as they practiced."

Jinn smiled and leaned against the wall beside him. "Well, for not having had a master or attended a dojo, your skill is exceptional. You remind me of me when I was younger, albeit a little less reserved."

"How so?"

"Well, you spun low to avoid the decapitation move your opponent used against you and struck from behind. And your blade angle could be a little better when striking; it makes for a better blow. Your footwork needs fine tuning as well…" Jinn trailed off and got a look in his eyes, as if recalling a memory not to long in the past, and smiled knowingly.

Rutaro's heart beat faster, though he couldn't quite place the reason. "Wow…you must be a master swordsman to be able to spot all those moves I did…yours must be tons better!"

Jinn nodded. "Yes, that's part of why I'm here. You see…I had a master once, who taught me to be the best swordsman I could be. And I once traveled with a ronin who…well, his methods were unconventional but he was a match for me whenever we crossed blades. Ever since then I've thought of what I would do other than just wandering…I didn't want to settle down as a true samurai for a lord, or teach a bunch of inexperienced men the right way to hold a sword. But you…"

Rutaro could hardly hear for his heart hammering in his head, could scarcely believe that he spoke to not just a samurai, but a ronin…free to roam, living how they wanted to…that he was interested in him, a small town boy living in the shadow of the village protectors…

"…I think I'd like to take you on as my pupil, teach you what I know."

Chills went down Rutaro's spine; he felt elated. He was actually going to learn from a master swordsman…see the world, meet new people, become a ronin. It was all going to happen.

Jinn saw the look on the boy's face and adopted a serious tone. "I must warn you though; the training to acquire these skills will be arduous. But I have faith in you, Rutaro. Just trust me, and trust in your skill as a fighter…and you will become the best you can be."