Boom!
Ivankov pried himself from the cliff, shaking off dust. Looking up at the unscathed Sora, he wore a stunned expression.
Not even a scratch?
Easing his slightly constricted chest, he panted, "Little Sora, that ability's downright shocking!"
Incredible. What kind of Devil Fruit is that?
Sora, inwardly, was struggling. Blocking that attack had pushed his stamina to the brink. That was a move strong enough to knock away Bartholomew Kuma. Meanwhile, Ivankov was merely winded.
At twelve, Sora's body hadn't fully matured. With age, his strength would surely surge explosively.
After a brief rest, his stamina recovered slightly, a glint in his eyes. Facing Ivankov, he shouted, "Little Ivankov, how about we call this a draw?"
"Fine by me," Ivankov replied, noticing Sora's exhaustion but not calling it out. "You decide."
"And the grain?"
"Grain, grain…" Sora rubbed his chin.
Ivankov watched, tense.
"Of course, it's yours!" Sora spun dramatically, mimicking Ivankov's theatrics, arms raised high.
"What?!"
"You're really giving it to us?"
Ivankov played along, shouting.
"Tricked again!"
They locked eyes and burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Little Ivankov, I've got a question," Sora said, suddenly teleporting onto Ivankov's shoulder, startling him into silence.
"What's that?"
"Is Kamabakka Kingdom really full of okama?"
As Ivankov walked toward the village, he answered, "The cuties there are ordinary folks who flocked to embrace the okama way."
"Oh!" Sora nodded, as if it all made sense. "I knew it couldn't all be okama. How would they add new people otherwise?"
"You should visit Kamabakka someday, Little Sora. The cuties would adore you," Ivankov said, excited. "You're so cute and pretty!"
"Kamabakka?" Sora shivered, picturing Sanji's ordeal. Panicked, he blurted, "No way! I'm too young to sail!"
"Really? I was gonna introduce you to our kingdom's prettiest cutie!" Ivankov said, disappointed.
Sora's mind flooded with images of bearded men in pink dresses sprinting on beaches. Cold sweat poured.
"You okay, Little Sora?" Ivankov asked. "Why're you sweating so much?"
"Cough, cough! I'm fine, fine!" Sora deflected, changing the subject. "Let's hurry!"
Spotting the crowd waiting at the dock, he teleported ahead.
"Hey, wait up!" Ivankov called, quickening his pace. "Is Kamabakka that scary?"
---
Shimotsuki Village.
Isshin Dojo.
Sora lay on the dojo's rooftop, gazing at the bustling figures below, sighing. The fight looked impressive, but only he knew the gap. His all-out effort had barely made Ivankov get serious. By the end, Sora was drained, while Ivankov was just warmed up.
His age limited his stamina and Haki. It was a natural constraint, beyond his control.
"Sora, what're you moping about?" Koshiro sat beside him.
"Nothing," Sora said. "Just bummed it'll be a while before I can sail."
"Master, I really wanna see this world!" Sora sat up, eyes sparkling, looking at Koshiro. For the first time, he felt an urgent need to explore—to witness the vast, thrilling world, its living legends, the Great Route's bizarre creatures, Sky Island, Bubble Island, Fish-Man Island…
Just thinking about it set his blood ablaze. He'd never felt this eager before, but meeting Ivankov—someone so unlike ordinary humans—ignited his excitement to see more.
This wasn't his old world's manga. It was real, tangible, a place to fight and connect.
"Not yet, Sora. You're too young. Wait till you're grown," Koshiro said, pushing up his glasses, glancing toward the back hills. "It's not that I'm stopping you. The world out there isn't as rosy as you think."
He paused, a strange look in his eyes. "Besides, you've gotta wait for Kuina. That girl's got eyes only for you. If you left, I don't know what she'd do."
Following Koshiro's gaze, Sora saw Zoro and Kuina training furiously in the hills. Since returning from the harbor, they'd thrown themselves into even harder practice.
"Don't worry, Master. I know when to sail, and I know what this world's like. I read the papers every day!" Sora said, looking at Kuina with a tender glint. "As for Kuina, I'll never leave her behind. Not in this lifetime."
"Good. You get it," Koshiro said, nodding. He unhooked a black-sheathed sword from his waist, holding it out to Sora. "I planned to give this when you set sail, but your strength's growing too fast. Ordinary swords won't cut it for your training anymore."
He handed it over. "Take it. Getting used to a blade takes time. This one's tailored to your habits, lengthened for your frame—even when you're grown, it'll fit."
"Thanks, Master!" Sora took the sword with both hands, gripping the hilt. With a zing, he drew it, holding it before his eyes.
The blade's spine was thicker than most, its edge a chaotic, large T-shaped pattern, silver-gray with faint purple serrated designs. Running his palm along it, he felt its razor-sharpness.
"Good sword."
Koshiro, seeing Sora's excitement, explained, "It's modeled after Wano's legendary blade, Autumn Water. It's tough and dense, heavier than swords of its size."
He paused, adding, "Nurture it daily with your Haki. It might become a black blade someday."
"Black blade?" Sora feigned ignorance, though he knew well.
"Black blades are defined by durability. A swordsman can temper their sword with Haki, forging it into a black blade. Autumn Water is one," Koshiro said.
"Don't worry, Master. I'll make this blade ring across the world!" Sora said, growing fonder of the sword.
"Good. It's nameless. Give it one," Koshiro said, smiling.
Sora raised the sword overhead. Under the sunlight, it glowed with a cyan halo.
"Zankuu," he declared. "Sky-Slicer."
"Zankuu?" Koshiro asked, surprised.
"The Sora that slices space!" Sora roared, thrilled. "I want to cut space itself someday!"
(End of Chapter)