Summary: Hiko knows Hiten Mitsurugi's rules forward and back, and nowhere does it say his apprentice has to be human.

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"So, you two want me to challenge some dojo's assistant master?" said Zanza around a mouthful of rice. He washed it down with a gulp of sake and started on the whole smoked fish.

"No, destroy," the shorter one corrected, "completely. Not challenge."

Zanza's gaze briefly flicked up to the man who had identified himself as Hiruma Kihei, then dropped back to his bowl. "Oi, don't take me for some assassin now. I do fair fights. It's a regular challenge or nothing."

"...Fine."

"So, what's his name and dojo?"

"Kamiya Kaoru, of-"

"Wait a minute, you're hiring me to fight a woman?" He waved his chopsticks in a vaguely threatening way. "No, no way! I don't care if she knows kenjutsu or not, I'm not fighting her. If you don't have anything else, then get out."

"Wait!" said the big one hastily, raising both hands in front of himself. "Do you know how we were arrested three weeks ago?"

Zanza snorted. "You have to be kidding. Who doesn't know? You pretended you were Hitokiri Battousai and killed ten people, six of them cops, before you attacked the dojo of the sword style you were claiming to practice and the assistant master there handed you your ass. Can't say you didn't deserve it."

"I'm stronger than Kamiya!"

"You sure have a neat way of showing it," said Zanza.

"What Gohei says is true," said Kihei. "He is stronger. Someone- No, something else saved her. She just took the credit afterwards."

"Really."

"It was a youkai," Zanza's eyebrows soared upwards, "that looks like a cross between a horse and a kitten. It- He claimed to be the real Battousai."

There was absolute silence in the room for ten long seconds.

And then rice sprayed from the fighter's mouth as he laughed them out of his house.

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