His fists clenched his kimono, the fabric on his thighs wrinkling from his grip. His eyes stared downwards, brows pinched together.
Ahead of him, light glinted off from black lacquered wood. The sheath of a sword. A weapon deadly, graceful in nature. Hidden in it's resting place like a cobra nesting in the rocks. So close at hand, yet it may has well have been miles from him now.
"Kida." A strong voice behind him addressed.
"Do you still seek the right to carry the sword?"
There wasn't anything he could do but tell the truth... He'd tried everything by now. Even pretending he didn't want it at all.
"Yes, master..." He murmured.
"Yet you still cannot tell me your reasons?" The question came. Kida had heard it a hundred times by now. His hands tightened more.
"I have!" His voice replied tersely before he could stop it.. A moment later he timidly added "...Master."
"Then you are still unready to wield it."
Kida turned his head to look at the aging man over his shoulder with a fiery glance. "Why?!" He demanded. "I've beaten every opponent you've set against me! There isn't even a match to my skill among my peers!"
The aging man sighed softly.. Eyes closing, only to reopen with a quiet look of disappointment. "...Kida... You possess great talents in the sword. This is true." He said with a small frown. "Every day, I feel much pride from watching you progress..."
"Yet that pride is touched by sadness." He amended, Kida's expression growing more confused, more frustrated by the word. "It is what you choose to do with that talent that disappoints me. That holds you back."
Kida could hold it in no longer. "I do as you tell me to! I spar with who you pick, I spend these.. These long hours meditating as you say, when I could be focusing on improving my skill! What do you want from me?! Just tell me!" He demanded, his tone tight, volume a bit louder.
His master was silent for a few long moments. "...Kida, to tell you would not help you. Tell a dog to behave and he may. Leave him alone with the chickens however, and you will come back to feathers." He said calmly. "You might wield the sword if I tell you what I wish to see from you, but for you.. For you, it would change nothing. You would learn, nothing." His tone was cold.
"Until you find the answer within yourself... I will never permit you to carry a blade."
Kida turned around. Slim brows slightly furrowed, eyes a bit widened. "But that isn't fair, master!"
"Why, Kida? Why isn't it fair? Why are you -entitled- to the sword?" His master snapped. His gaze was ice. His look warning. Warning Kida did not heed.
"I've been here most of my life! I've been here longer than anyone else I know! I've practiced all the kata, defeated every student-"
"And you believe -that- is what makes someone worthy then?" He was interrupted.
Kida frowned for a moment, before his quiet response came. "...Yes."
Silence permeated the room for an eternity. His master watched him with a terse frown, eyes narrowing down on him. Kida's gaze soon fell as he felt the burning stare of his teacher's gaze upon him. An angry, disappointed glare.
"Kida."
He looked back up.
"Prove your worth then. Take up the sword behind you. Show me what you think it is to wield it." He was instructed, his master's tone quiet, but simmering with what sounded like frustration. Kida was hesitant... He was never before allowed to actually touch a real sword.. It was so sudden, unexpected. He looked at his master with uncertainty, confusion in his eyes. He turned slowly however.. Laying his hand upon the hilt of the sword. The cloth of it's wrappings was soft.. Velvety to the touch. Enticing. He gripped it firmer, his other hand finding it's way to gripping the smooth texture of the lacquered sheath. His goal in hand, he turned back around to see his master.
There he stood. Wooden training slat in hand. A stare on his face. Kida glanced downwards, giving the sword in his hands a pull.. It slid partway from it's sheath with a minimal effort. Light from the sun shining in through the open doorway glinted from it's blade. It's edge razor-like. He grew slightly uneasy. His master was so confident in his winning that he would not draw a real sword of his own... He opened his mouth, shaking his head preemptively as if to refuse the request.
"If you do not desire it, place it back where it lay." He was spoken over. Confliction clear on his face, another glance downwards. He was silent.. But the sword did not leave his hands.
"Then draw it out. Show me with your actions, not with your words." Kida obeyed. The sword came singing from it's sheath. It felt as if it were perfect in hand. Instead of smooth polished wood, his hand met hilt. Steel extended from his being. Where he was used to there being the rounded contours of sleek, tame ash there was a singular, graceful edge. He looked up from it hesitantly. His master had not moved. There was the unspoken question from Kida in the air, but it was firmly addressed.
"If you have something to prove, prove it now." His master said, eyes narrowed. Kida set the sheath aside. The young man's expression hardening with determination. He knew he was supposed to learn something from this... He was supposed to learn something from everything, but all too often it flew over his head, and he was expected to find the answers himself. He'd make his teacher give him a straight answer, this time.
As he took stance with the sword held just above waist level, blade tip aimed straight at his teacher, his master took a similar stance. A feather light grip on the wooden slat, a body that spoke of relaxation, even though the expression was of frustration.
"Ki!" Kida barked out. He glided forwards. His leading foot came forwards, followed by his back foot, maintaining orientation to each other. The back foot does not go in front of the lead foot. His sword rose, then fell sharply down the center line. A head slash. Fatal if it landed.
It didn't. His master took a step off center, moving forward and to the left. Bypassing the swing. Forcing him into the reactionary role. Kida's response was to change his center, moving to his own left and adjusting his sword to once again point the tip of the blade at his master, only now he saw and felt the wooden slat hover against the spine of the blade, above it.
Kida retreated a step uneasily. He raised his guard this time. His master persisted however, stepping closer, maintaining his guard. His eyes were locked at Kida's as he drew closer, calculatedly. Forcibly approaching Kida, the tip of the practice sword to slide past his.
The younger man retreated further, steeling himself for a moment before suddenly stopping. "Kya!" He leaned forwards onto his lead foot, swinging the sword downwards at an angle, aiming for his master's wrist. It was a close target. An easy one, with the way his master had been approaching.
With the flat of the training sword the master deflected the swing while stepping inwards and to the side once again, slipping the training sword behind the steel in the process, the tip suddenly making an arch towards Kida's throat.
He stumbled in haste to try and dodge the attack. His footwork dissolving in a moment of panic. Even as he fell however, his master's training sword stopped short of completely executing the arch.. Once he was on his back however, the rounded, blunt tip found it's way to pointing at his neck, the master having closed in over him.
Kida's eyes were slightly wide. His breath shaken as he looked up at his teacher.
"You bring shame upon yourself, Kida. Shame upon me, for not having taught you better." His master's voice scolded. Kida's eyes immediately lowered with guilt.
His master was silent for a long moment, before he finally spoke again.
"What is the purpose of a sword, Kida?" He asks.
He knew the answer instantly. It was one of the fundamental teachings of his master. "To protect.." He mumbled.
"So then why does it hurt others?"
This question, he hadn't been asked before... He was thoughtful for a few moments. Trying to catch his breath.. Venturing a glance up at his master. He looked sad.
"..B-because... That's the only way to protect from those who would do us harm.." He offers timidly.
The master was silent for a few moments. "Kida..." He says, his tone softer now. His eyes losing their glare gradually.
"The goal of a true master of the sword is to protect all people. Our enemies may be our enemies today, but tomorrow it is uncertain. This must be reflected in everything we do. A respect for life, for all life, is essential to the heart of the greatest of protectors. That is the Hyashin way..." He murmurs softly. Kida's eyes fell downwards again in understanding.
"When a swordsman is true of heart, Kida.. If you become strong enough there is more to the sword than killing, or harming our enemies. One does not have to strike, or harm to overcome those who would do such to us..."
"Then why do we carry swords, master?..." Kida asks quietly.. Yet unsure of himself.
"Because it is an acknowledgement that we bear that responsibility. That we forever have the choice, yet the true strength to abstain from it. It is our ultimate challenge. What we all must strive for..."
Kida was silent.. A look of shame and thought clear on his face as he shifted his gaze away once more. "..I think I understand, master..." He murmurs.
"Then I want you to continue your meditation on the matter. And I want you to think about what you did today... It was very disappointing, Kida..." He replied, his tone not of anger, but still of sadness. That was worse, to Kida. Who nodded.. Straightening to sit on his calves again, gaze never rising to meet the elder man afterwards, who slowly walked to the edge of the room.. Setting the training sword upon a rack, before leaving Kida in silence once more.