Chapter 10: The Breath of Steel
The cold steel bit into Zoro's neck. A thin line of red formed on his skin.
But the blade stopped.
Master Kenji's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. His instincts violently rejected the suicidal move. He snapped his wrist back, pulling the razor-edge away just a millimeter before it could hit the artery.
That millimeter was all Zoro needed.
Zoro ignored his numb left arm. He tightened his right grip on the generic katana. He drove it upward in a raw, desperate uppercut. It wasn't clean. It was the strike of a cornered animal.
CLANG!
Sparks flew. Kenji brought his own hilt down just in time. The impact rang through the courtyard. Kenji's boots slid backward in the dirt, kicking up dust. The sheer physical power behind the exhausted boy's swing forced the old master to retreat two full steps.
Zoro tried to step forward. He wanted to press the attack.
His body finally gave out.
His right knee buckled. The katana slipped from his bloody, blistered fingers and hit the ground. Zoro crashed into the dirt face-first. His lungs pulled in violent, ragged gasps. Sharp pains shot through his ribs. The adrenaline evaporated entirely. Only crushing, paralyzing exhaustion remained.
He couldn't lift a single finger. The world spun.
Kenji slowly lowered his sword. He looked at the bleeding cut on Zoro's neck, then down at his own trembling hands. He had actually been pushed back.
He sheathed his katana with a sharp click.
"You would throw away your life for a single opening," Kenji stated.
Zoro pressed his forehead against the cool earth. His jaw clenched.
"If I hesitate... to save my own life..." Zoro rasped. His voice was barely a whisper over his wheezing lungs. "...then I'm already dead."
Kenji stared at the boy lying in the dirt. He turned and walked slowly toward the wooden porch.
"The iron beast built your muscles. The beach built your lungs," Kenji said. His voice returned to its usual flat tone. "But live steel tests the mind."
Kenji reached under the porch. He pulled out a heavy object covered in a tarp. He dragged it to the center of the courtyard and dropped it.
THUD.
The ground shook. Kenji pulled the tarp away. It was a solid, thick block of dull green metal, covered in deep scratches.
"This is an armor plate from a U.A. Zero-Pointer," Kenji stated. He tapped the metal with his wooden cane.
Zoro forced his shaking, numb arms to push his chest off the dirt. He glared at the massive block.
"Fifteen years ago," Kenji continued. His voice held no warmth. "I was the close-quarters combat instructor at U.A. High. That was before flashy Quirks poisoned their curriculum. When I resigned, the head of the Support Department threw this exact plate at my feet."
Kenji's gray eyes narrowed. He stared at the green steel with pure disgust.
"He told me the era of the sword was dead. He said no traditional Japanese blade could ever cut modern hero-grade steel without a Quirk. He bet me my teachings were obsolete."
Kenji looked down at Zoro's bleeding, exhausted form.
"I kept it. I waited fifteen years for a student stubborn enough to prove them wrong. To cut through the armored machines of U.A., brute force is useless. If you strike it with anger, your sword will shatter."
Zoro wiped the dirt and blood from his chin. A feral grin stretched across his face, despite the crushing pain in his body.
"Then how do I cut it?" Zoro asked, tasting copper in his mouth.
Kenji looked over his shoulder. The morning sun cast long shadows across his wrinkled face.
"You must stop trying to cut the metal," Kenji said quietly. "You must learn to hear the breath of the steel."
Zoro frowned.
"Everything in this world breathes, Zoro. The trees, the dirt, the rocks... and the steel. A true swordsman can choose to cut nothing, or cut everything. Until you can hear the breath of this metal, you will not touch your three swords again."
The sliding paper doors closed. Zoro was left alone in the dirt with a block of dead, impossible metal.
.
.
For Advanced chapters;
Pa tre on. com/Azth