It was a blank room complete with rubber padded floors, mirrors all around, and soft yellow lights above. The theme was bamboo wood, attempting to mimic the classic style dojos Adachi grew up training in.

"So, I'm sure you know this place well. It's where you've trained to use a sword your entire life, right?" The large man began, staring about aimlessly.

"Yeah..." Ikkei responded, wondering exactly where his father was going with this.

"Well, you know I taught you all about our family history, the war we've fought, and the reality of our world...I think it's time we took it a step further."

Adachi stepped forward toward his son, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder as he looked into his eyes. He had a thin layer of stubble all around his face, complementing his chiseled features.

"You're a big boy now. After you finish high school, you'll be out in the world discovering what you want to do. But to bridge that gap and give you a taste of the real world, your mother and I decided its time for you to get a job."

Ikkei's gave a somewhat puzzled but partially understanding look.

"What kind of job...?" He said worriedly.

"Well, why do you think I've been teaching you to fight your entire life? Its time for you to join the family business, Ikkei."

The boy was shocked for a moment, knowing well this day would eventually come. He dreamed of becoming a Samurai like his father, honorably protecting his family and those who hired his services. To take on this role as a successor was a big deal in the Kagemori family, and each new generation would bring even greater power and potential. It was time for Adachi to finally pass the torch.

Despite this great anticipation and pay off, a knot couldn't help but form in Ikkei's stomach. His father sometimes told him of the horrors that came with being a samurai. He was also not quite confident in his ability to hurt others--not because he lacked the power to do so, but rather the intent. To him, it was a balance of his inherited passive, peaceful, and hopeful nature from his mother and his own personal experiences that he tried so hard to forget.

Pushing these negative counter thoughts aside, Ikkei gave his father a bright look.

"So...it's finally time for Slugger from Sotaya street to pick up the sword, eh? I couldn't be more ready..." Ikkei said half enthusiastically. He knew giving even a hint of uncertainty would throw his father off and all the years of training he spent. This needed to happen, and he needed to be proud to take the mantle. Part of him definitely was. But he couldn't help thinking a bit about his own experience and mindset, which conflicted with his other ideals of becoming a brave and noble samurai.

"Heh! You sound fired up already. I knew it was about time. Give me a second..." Adachi pulled away, heading toward a large wooden case at the end of the room. Ikkei grew up always wondering what was in it, as it was always locked. It was a rather large and grandiose looking cabinet, etched with small dragon statues and kanji of the Kagemori Clan across the doors.

For the first time in his life, Ikkei watched his father slowly unlock and pull open those doors, revealing a forbidden treasure now exposed to his eyes.

In the case upon a set of glass holders laid a beautiful dark blue katana, shimmering in the light. It was as old as it was beautiful, detailed with shiny chrome pieces such as the hilt and guard. It's sheath was almost a granite pattern, enveloped in a marine blue that struck itself as the color of the ocean.

Slowly, Adachi raised the weapon from the case and brought it over to Ikkei, holding it before him as the boy looked on in awe.

"This, my son, is our legacy. This sword represents the Kagemori Samurai clan in all of it's glory. It was the weapon your great ancestor Shishimaro used in the legendary battle against his rival, the then head of the Shimazu clan. It was the weapon your grandfather used to defend his territory from Ashikaga invaders...and it was the weapon I used to make a living of myself. Now...it'll be the weapon you use to carve out your future. You will take it as not only the token of your life from this moment forward, but as your most trusted possession. You will carry it with you at all times, protect it with your life and it will do the same for you. If you accept this, you also accept your fate as a samurai. I've taught you all I could. Now it's time to apply that knowledge and become an honorable warrior yourself."

Ikkei stared at the blade, then up at his father, who couldn't help but don a cheerful expression as he presented the family katana before him.

"Before you reach out and accept this, you were made aware of your duty before you claim this weapon. It is by samurai code that each new successor to the clan must adopt a Bushido, or honor of a samurai warrior. This bushido is your rule to your new life as a samurai, and to maintain honor and respect to yourself and this clan, you must follow it every day of your life. Failing to honor the bushido you set for yourself will result in your weapon being revoked and you being denounced from the Kagemori clan. Now...declare your bushido."

Ikkei nodded in response. He was told of this since he was a boy. If he were to ever become a samurai, he'd need to live by a personal code of honor and respect. This could be a simple as a single rule or promise to one's self, or a long list of morals and ethics to adopt and live by. Whatever he declared now, it was set in place for life.

He thought often of this moment and what he'd say. His answer growing up was always something along the lines of "Never serve a corrupt lord" or "Never raise a sword towards the innocent". But now, it was a bit different. He'd expected this moment to come a bit later near the end of high school, and had thus pushed this plan further back. Now in the moment, with his perception shifted, he quickly threw together his current thoughts and formed a response out of it.

"...I promise to never unsheath this blade..."

These words echoed in Ikkei's mind. What was he thinking? How could a samurai serve without ever drawing his weapon? But even more baffling was the odd feeling as to why this felt right to him. Why of all the things he could have said...of all the thoughts and emotions that built up over those few seconds of thinking...this was the product. He didn't regret it.

Adachi took a second to process this. He looked at his son with a stern expression, trying to piece together why he would declare such a thing.

"If I may ask...why?"

Inari looked at Adachi with a similar face, confused and more worried if anything.

Memories began to flood back as he racked his mind for the response. All he could see was blood painting the ground beneath him. The cracked sword in his hands coated in red liquid. The expression on the boy's face before him as he slowly looked down at the deep gash along his chest. All he could feel was pain and sorrow...and the immediate passion to not replicate such a traumatic event.

"I've discovered over the years I'm not one to violently hurt others. I do not like inflicting lasting pain, nor do I like the sight of viceral bloody combat. As a samurai this is to be expected, and I am preparing myself to encounter this, but I want to do everything in my own power to prevent it by my own hand. With this as my bushido, I am vowing to never raise the sharp end of my sword towards an opponent. I will not let them bleed. They will not die of their open wounds or their loss of blood. They will be defeated fairly in combat, to a point where they will be unable to fight back, but able to rise again and properly recover from their damages. I will not inflict life ending attacks on an opponent. And I will not go back on this declaration." Ikkei stated proudly, looking his father dead in the eye with all the intensity and seriousness he could muster.

"Ikkei...you know more than anyone that the life of a samurai is violent and filled with life or death moments...if you declare this as your bushido, you are placing a handicap on yourself permanently...and preventing you from ever truly becoming a real samurai." Adachi responded coldly.

"I don't need to kill another person to prove I am an honorable warrior. I simply need to defeat them, protect my clan, serve my lord, and carry on. I am not granting forgiveness. Just the simple act of mercy."

"Mercy will get you killed, Ikkei!"

"Then that's my fault! I know I sound stupid, dad. But I wouldn't want it any other way. You know what I've been through. I can't do that again! Not if I value my sanity! I still want to be a samurai! I want to serve this family well! But I want to do it my way! The way that doesn't involve killing others!"

"I don't advise you taking life at such a young age in general. I can see where you are coming from. Not all samurai need to kill in most jobs and scenarios...but given you are assigned a mission where this is necessary, what will you tell your lord?"

"I wouldn't want to serve a lord that doesn't respect my bushido."

"A lord wouldn't want to hire you with a bushido like that!"

"Then so be it! I'll do freelance work like you did! I don't need to serve a lord! You never did!"

"I didn't serve a lord because of my personal mistakes, Ikkei."

"Then I guess we're both on the same page. But you made it just fine. Look at you now."

There was a silence.

Adachi was beginning to understand his son's reasoning, and by extension slowly began to accept it.

"I can try one lord. He may hire you despite your odd bushido. But if he declines my offer...you'll be forced to work as a filthy freelancer for the rest of your life. Are you okay with that?"

Ikkei smiled a bit, both his mother and father's optimism shining through in this very moment.

"As long as there's a shot, I'll take it!"

Reluctantly, Adachi allowed Ikkei to retrieve the blade from his hands, getting used to the weight and feel of the weapon. Touching the weapon felt like magic. Every fingertip that wrapped around the hilt sent shocks of electricity through his mind. He could feel the raw power this weapon was capable of. He knew this was his destiny, and his choice was the right one.

"Kagemori Ikkei, you have declared your bushido and allegiance to this clan as a samurai. From this day forward, you are now an honorable warrior of the Kagemori. Congratulations." Adachi stated, extending his arm out as he firmly shook his son's hand. The two stared at one another as the man began to tear up, pulling his son in for a tight hug. His mother, also on the verge of tears, threw herself into the embrace, the blade of their family held firmly between them.

"Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I'm bringing you over to the Lord's palace! You are to make yourself look sharp and presentable. Consider and treat this lord as the only one you'll ever serve...given that's what your reality looks like now. Seven o clock sharp. Be up by six!" Adachi demanded, leaving the room as Inari slowly followed, but not before turning back at her son with a warm, proud smile and a subtle blow of a kiss.

"You're going to be just fine, Ikkei. I love you. Do well!" Inari smiled brightly, leaving the room. All that was left was the young baseball star turned Samurai, and the weapon of his future in his hands.

"And so...my journey begins." He murmured.