Ian’s words lingered in the evening air long after he fell silent.
Kuina stood motionless.
Part of her wanted desperately to believe him.
She really did.
But another part couldn’t.
A familiar voice echoed in the back of her mind.
Her father’s voice.
The voice she’d trusted her entire life.
The voice that had shaped her understanding of swordsmanship, talent, and the limits of her future.
The conflict was written plainly across her face.
Ian studied her for a few seconds.
Then understanding dawned.
“Ah.”
A smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“I think I get it now.”
Kuina looked up.
Ian folded his arms.
“In your eyes, your father is one of the greatest swordsmen in the world, isn’t he?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation.
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
And that answer explained everything.
Ian laughed.
“Then that’s simple.”
Kuina blinked.
“Simple?”
“Tell him I want a duel.”
The beach went quiet.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Kuina stared at him.
“What?”
Ian grinned.
“If the opinion of a great swordsman carries that much weight…”
His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
“…then when I beat him, you’ll have to listen to me instead.”
The confidence in his voice was outrageous.
Completely unreasonable.
And yet somehow, it didn’t sound arrogant.
It sounded like a statement of fact.
“As the saying goes, the stronger the fist, the stronger the argument.”
He pointed at her.
“So here’s the deal.”
“If I defeat your father, you promise me you’ll keep practicing swordsmanship.”
Kuina’s mind went blank.
That was not the response she had expected.
She’d expected advice.
Encouragement.
Maybe another speech.
Not a challenge.
Certainly not one directed at Koushirou.
“You…
want to challenge my father?”
Her voice was full of disbelief.
Growing up at Isshin Dojo, she’d seen countless challengers come and go.
Every one of them had arrived overflowing with confidence.
Certain they would prove themselves.
Certain they would win.
Then evening would come.
And they would leave.
Their shoulders slumped.
Their spirits crushed.
Some never picked up a sword again.
A swordsman’s defeat could cut deeper than any blade.
Remembering those faces, Kuina hesitated.
Then spoke carefully.
“Sir…”
Her tone softened.
“Thank you for trying to encourage me.”
She bowed slightly.
“But my father is very strong.”
Stronger than most people realized.
“There really isn’t any need for you to challenge him.”
Ian laughed.
“What exactly are you worried about?”
“I…”
Kuina opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Even she wasn’t entirely sure.
Ian waved dismissively.
“Whether I’d met you today or not, I was planning to find him anyway.”
She blinked.
“…You were?”
“Of course.”
He shrugged.
“I came to Shimotsuki Village for a reason.”
A swordsman like Koushirou wasn’t someone Ian intended to ignore.
The duel had been inevitable from the beginning.
“So.”
He pointed toward the village.
“Do me a favor and pass along the message.”
Then his expression softened.
“And stop talking about giving up swordsmanship.”
His voice wasn’t harsh.
But it carried a quiet firmness.
“Those words don’t suit you.”
For some reason, that simple statement struck deeper than any argument.
Kuina lowered her eyes.
The man standing before her wasn’t much older than the adventurers she imagined sailing the Grand Line.
Yet he carried himself differently.
As though the entire world lay open before him.
As though obstacles existed to be overcome, not accepted.
As though limitations simply weren’t real.
After a long silence, she finally nodded.
“Okay.”
A faint smile appeared.
“I’ll tell him.”
“Good.”
Ian stretched lazily.
“Now go get some rest.”
Before she could react, he gently patted her head.
“Tomorrow morning, you start training again.”
Kuina lowered her gaze.
“You really believe it, don’t you?”
“Hm?”
“That girls can become great swordsmen.”
Ian smiled.
There wasn’t even a second of hesitation.
“Of course.”
The answer came naturally.
Effortlessly.
As though there had never been any other possibility.
For years, she’d wanted someone to say those words.
Someone who truly believed them.
Not because they felt sorry for her.
Not because they wanted to comfort her.
But because they genuinely thought they were true.
A strange warmth spread through her chest.
“…Thank you.”
Her voice was barely audible.
Then she bowed.
“Goodbye, Ian.”
Ian waved casually.
“See you around, Kuina.”
As she walked away, the setting sun bathed the village road in gold.
And for the first time in years, her steps felt lighter.
Once Kuina disappeared into the distance, only one exhausted swordsman remained.
Zoro.
Still running.
Still suffering.
Still questioning every life decision that had brought him to this point.
Several minutes later, he staggered back across the beach.
Sweat poured off him.
His legs looked ready to collapse.
“Master!”
He bent over, gasping for air.
“I finished!”
Ian glanced at him.
Then raised an eyebrow.
“Huh.”
The grin on Zoro’s face was impossible to miss.
“You seem awfully happy.”
“Of course I’m happy!”
The boy practically bounced despite his exhaustion.
“I beat Kuina!”
For the first time.
After two thousand losses.
He had finally done it.
Ian immediately smacked him on the head.
Bonk.
“Ow!”
Zoro clutched his scalp.
“What was that for?!”
“What are you celebrating?”
The boy stared.
Ian continued mercilessly.
“You won because your stamina surpassed hers.”
The grin vanished.
“You improved your endurance.”
“You improved your recovery.”
“You improved your ability to manage your strength.”
Then Ian pointed toward Isshin Dojo.
“But in pure swordsmanship?”
“She’s still better than you.”
The words landed harder than the smack.
Zoro looked like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold seawater over his head.
“…Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Ian nodded.
“Your technique still has holes.”
“You rely on strength too often.”
“You force situations instead of controlling them.”
Zoro let out a long groan.
Life was cruel.
His victory had lasted less than five minutes.
“Stand up.”
“Huh?”
Ian picked up a wooden sword.
“We’re fixing that.”
Zoro’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Instantly, exhaustion disappeared.
The boy snapped upright.
The moon rose high above Shimotsuki Village.
Silver light spread across the shoreline.
The sea shimmered beneath the night sky.
And on the beach, two figures trained.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Ian corrected footwork.
Adjusted posture.
Refined balance.
Every stance.
Every transition.
Every movement.
To Zoro, it felt as though an entirely new world had opened before him.
The swordsmanship Ian demonstrated was unlike anything he had ever seen.
Fluid.
Precise.
Efficient.
Every motion flowed naturally into the next.
There was no wasted movement.
No unnecessary force.
It was as if the sword and body had become one.
Hours slipped by unnoticed.
The moon climbed higher.
The tide rolled in and out.
By the time midnight approached, Zoro had collapsed onto the sand.
Completely exhausted.
Yet his eyes shone brighter than ever.
“Master.”
He lay there staring at the stars.
“I learned so much tonight.”
Ian sat nearby with a jug of wine resting beside him.
“You’ve barely learned anything.”
Zoro blinked.
“Huh?”
Ian chuckled.
“The path of the sword never ends.”
His gaze drifted toward the sea.
“If you imagine a road stretching endlessly beyond the horizon…”
His voice grew quieter.
“Then swordsmanship stretches even farther.”
The ocean reflected the moonlight.
Infinite.
Boundless.
Much like the path he described.
Zoro stared.
Then nodded solemnly.
“Master really says the coolest things.”
Ian rolled his eyes.
“Stop flattering me.”
“Hehe.”
Zoro scratched the back of his head.
Then suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right.”
“What?”
“Are you really going to challenge Master Koushirou?”
“Yep.”
“No hesitation?”
“None.”
Zoro looked uncertain.
In his mind, Ian was incredibly strong.
But Koushirou?
That was Master Koushirou.
Practically unbeatable.
“So…”
He swallowed.
“Do you think you can win?”
Ian took a long drink from the wine.
The sea breeze stirred his hair.
For a moment, he remained silent.
Then he smiled.
“Can anyone be completely certain before a duel?”
The question hung in the air.
Before Zoro could answer, Ian set down the jug.
“But yes.”
The answer came immediately.
“I think I can.”
No boasting.
No arrogance.
Just confidence.
Pure and absolute.
Zoro stared.
Then slowly nodded.
For some reason, he believed him.
The beach fell quiet.
Only the waves remained.
After a while, Ian suddenly spoke again.
“Zoro.”
“Hm?”
“I’ll teach you a secret.”
The boy instantly sat upright.
“A secret?”
“A very important one.”
Zoro’s eyes sparkled.
If it came from Ian, it had to be profound.
A hidden principle.
A legendary technique.
The wisdom of a true master.
“I’m listening.”
Ian adopted the solemn expression of an ancient sage preparing to reveal the mysteries of the universe.
“A swordsman’s heart must remain clear.”
Zoro nodded eagerly.
“Right.”
“And the easiest way to achieve that…”
Ian raised a finger.
“…is not getting distracted by girls.”
Silence.
The waves continued rolling onto the shore.
Somewhere overhead, a seagull cried.
Zoro blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then his entire face turned red.
“WH-WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!”
Ian burst out laughing.
The sound echoed across the moonlit beach.
Meanwhile, a certain future World’s Greatest Swordsman seriously considered throwing himself into the ocean.
For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that seemed preferable to continuing this conversation.