“How do I always get myself dragged into situations like this?” Bokuden mused to himself as he splashed water upon his face, waking himself up in preparation for the day’s task, “I really need to start cutting people in half for offering my services out without consulting me first.” This was of course in response to that old man’s apparent babbling about Bokuden’s kenjutsu prowess to some random outsider that now wished to meet with him. The whole situation was questionable at best. He doubted highly that some random stranger would be coming to the village and making inquiries about skilled kenjutsu users just for fun. There was clearly an ulterior motive at work here. Bokuden just had to find out what that ulterior motive was. There could be only one reason that this mystery man would be asking to meet Bokuden specifically regarding his kenjutsu: he wanted something.
Bokuden was not a child and a person born into his social standing learned from a very early age that people always wanted something from them. Whether it be monetary or a favor that needed his status to achieve, Bokuden was no stranger to people, sometimes even complete strangers, coming to him with their hands out. This however, was different. As far as Bokuden could gather of this nameless person who wanted to meet him from the foolish old man who set this up, the stranger seemed far more interested in the fact that Bokuden was a kenjutsu user than what clan he was from. The reasons for wanting to meet with Bokuden atop the High Battle Plateau, regarding his kenjutsu prowess were… less numerous. There were only two reasons that Bokuden was ever summoned for his kenjutsu abilities: there were the times where people had come to him seeking instruction and the situations in which people sought him out for a battle. Neither one of those prospects was particularly appealing to him at the moment. Either way however, strangers waltzing around the village and requesting an audience with him at a famous battle ground was not something that Bokuden could just brush off and hope that if he ignored it, it would go away. For better or for worse this meeting was going to happen.
Bokuden reached for his hand towel which laid hung over the railing to his right and dried off his face as he began mentally preparing himself for what he assumed was going to be a duel. The routine was always the same: freshen up, eat breakfast, get dressed, assemble equipment. Efficient, simple, and repeatable, all things that Bokuden valued in the way he approached most things, a product of a lifetime of relentlessly training kenjutsu. That was what separated an expert swordsman from a master swordsman in his opinion. Flashy techniques and sophisticated maneuvers were entertaining and when used appropriately of course they were effective, but a true master of the art of swordplay could defeat an opponent with only the movements found in the most basic of kenjutsu katas. Of course they would also be equally capable of performing the advanced techniques, but they would not rely on them. A fatal flaw Bokuden found was rampant in combat today was men relying on their trump card to bail them out of a losing situation. At the highest level of combat you can’t afford to think “Well, if anything happens I can always use…” A last resort should be a last resort. If one cannot defeat an opponent without expending every option but their trump card, what will be left if that does not succeed either? A once overconfident fool who has nothing to do now but await his own demise. Regardless, this was a lesson that Bokuden would have to teach this man bold enough to summon him to the High Battle Plateau through first-hand experience.
On the way out of the door Bokuden grabbed both Suiko Tenno and his old rusty katana and fastened them to the left side of his waste, the position where they could be most easily drawn from. Despite his displeasure with being called out to meet with some stranger Bokuden could not deny the feeling of excitement that coursed through him as the thought of a new opponent lingered in his mind. Although he did not enjoy needless fighting no swordsman could deny that somewhere deep down they longed to clash blades with a worthy opponent. Their warrior spirit almost demanded it, but a worthy opponent, that ever-elusive ideal, only seemed to be more and more unattainable as the years passed by. Although he would insist that he never yearns for battle Bokuden was no doubt becoming restless with the lack of competition. He could almost feel his blade dulling with each passing moment as it laid dormant in its sheath. This was of course more a figurative dulling than a physical imperfection in the weapon. As with any experienced swordsman, Bokuden took great pride and care in the maintenance of his blades, but there was not a sharpening or polish in the world that could counteract complacency. “How long has it been since I’ve felt like that?” Bokuden pondered to himself as he adjusted his coat and make his out of his home, “How long has it been since I was actually challenged? Too long, but wasting time thinking about it will change nothing. I have a task to do.”
~~~
As he arrived atop the High Battle Plateau Bokuden immediately scanned the area in search of the man that summoned him, only to see a young man seated and meditating. An avid fan of meditation himself Bokuden appreciated the art, but found it inappropriate given the setting. “Whatever,” he thought to himself as he let the subject slip from his mind before turning his gaze back to the man, “Wait, is this the kid I’m supposed to be fighting?” Bokuden’s looked the young man up and down, trying to determine whether or not he wanted to assume this was his opponent. He certainly didn’t recognize this person as a member of Kumogakure, so he fit the description of an outsider, but what was noteworthy is that the man was completely unarmed. There wasn’t a sword in sight other than Bokuden’s own, which made him more than question this man’s probability of being the one who summoned him. No person would be stupid enough to show up to a sword fight unarmed, right? Relatively sure that this was not his opponent Bokuden decided he would wait for the one who requested his presence to arrive. “He has five minutes,” Bokuden thought sternly as he proceeded to lean back against the training ground’s rafters, his arms folded, “Let the waiting game begin.”
Training: 1137