At The Peak of One Piece

Five days later, Victor returned to Shimotsuki Village trapped in the endless cycle of 'eat → train → eat → train'.

He headed straight for the Isshin Dojo upon landing, wasting no time. The dojo remained unchanged since his departure – same wooden floors, same lingering scent of discipline.

Apprentices greeted him with reverence as he entered. They'd witnessed him 'walking on air', an unimaginable feat to these trainees. 

Younger kids: 

"Senior Victor's back!" 

"Welcome home, Senior Victor!" 

Older students: 

"Victor! Good to see you!" 

"Look how tall you've gotten! Been eating well, eh?" 

'(Those who knew about Victor, Koushirou, and Kuina sneaking extra snacks)' 

Victor smiled at each greeting. First order of business: report to Master Koushirou. Respecting one's teacher wasn't optional. 

Kuina heard the commotion and came sprinting. She froze upon seeing Victor, then launched herself at him, clinging to his long legs like a koala. Her face pressed against his trousers, utterly silent. Victor felt dampness seep through the fabric. 'She's crying,' he realized. 'Trying to hide it.' 

A warm smile touched his lips. All those hours playing with her, telling her stories – they'd forged something real. He adored this little firecracker. Yet the memory of her tragic fate in another timeline twisted his heart. 'This time, I'll keep her safe.' 

Where Koushirou ruled Kuina with stern discipline, Victor – a soul nearing thirty across two lifetimes – treated her like a daughter. 

Dropping his pack, Victor scooped her up, holding her at eye level. "Who made Kuina cry?" he teased. "Point 'em out. I'll handle it." 

Kuina just pouted, eyes swimming. She yanked the miniature bamboo sword 'he'd carved for her' from her belt and bonked his head repeatedly. "Dummy! Dummy! DUMMY!" 

"Ah! So 'I'm' the culprit!" Victor laughed, utterly disarmed. "How about I make it up to you? Your favorite stew?" 

Nearby students burst into laughter. Kuina shot them a fierce little pout that only made Victor roar with laughter harder. 

After extensive negotiations (and promising sweets), Victor handed her a lollipop. "Wait in my room, okay?" As she scampered off, he approached Koushirou's meditation chamber. 

Knocking on the open doorframe: 

"Enter, Victor," came Koushirou's calm voice. 

"Yes, Master!" Victor knelt seiza-style opposite him. 

"Excellent. You've attained enlightenment." Koushirou smiled. 

If he hadn't read the original work and had a smart brain, he mightn't have gotten it. Victor mentally scoffed. 'Zoro needed ten years to grasp this! Total unfair.' Aloud, he said: "I broke through. So... what's the next step?" 

Koushirou's head tilted slightly (a blink-and-miss-it reaction). Surprising. Victor hadn't yet peaked in his current realm, yet sought the next. 

Not that Koushirou minded. Talent this rare deserved answers. Half his own teachings sounded like gibberish to him nowadays, yet Victor mastered them effortlessly. 

"Very well," Koushirou said. "Let's discuss your next... Sword Comprehension." 

"The strongest swordsman in the world wields a blade that protects what he wishes to protect and cuts what he wishes to cut. If that power still isn't enough to guard what matters, then you must gather it again and release it anew—that is the next realm!" 

Victor barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'Poor Zoro. It wasn't that the future swordsman loved poetic riddles—he'd just been cursed with a master who spoke in them.' 

"Understood, Sensei. I'll begin meditating on this at once." With a slight bow, Victor turned to leave. 

'Did he really get it that fast? Damn, my riddles were too easy. Next time, I'll make it more obscure.' 

--- 

Exiting the dojo's back door, Victor headed toward a small cabin he'd built shortly after arriving in Shimotsuki Village—his sanctuary for meditation and, more importantly, cooking. 

The door was ajar. Inside, Kuina sat at a low table, sucking on a lollipop. Her face lit up when she saw him. 

"Big Bro! What're you making today?" 

"Wait and see." No point explaining—she wouldn't recognize the ingredients anyway. 

Kuina puffed her cheeks. "Hmph. Meanie." 

Ignoring her theatrics, Victor unpacked charcoal and set up his stone grill: a square ding (minus handles) with four stubby legs, topped by a slightly concave slab. 

Kuina watched, familiar with the ritual. She and Koushirou often joined these meals. 

As the slab heated, Victor pulled out marinated zebra-donkey meat from his pack, slicing it paper-thin. Kuina's nose twitched at the aroma. 

When smoke curled off the stone, Victor oiled it, laid the meat down, and sprinkled spices. The sizzle was hypnotic. 

Kuina nearly grabbed a piece bare-handed—until Victor's Observation Haki predicted the move. "Chopsticks," he chided, slapping her wrist lightly. "Civilized people don't eat like savages." 

She obeyed, blowing on a slice before popping it in her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in bliss. 

"Good?" 

"Mmf—amazing!" 

Soon, Koushirou arrived, lured by the scent. Victor mentioned the meat was from his island but omitted the mysterious fruit. Some secrets were better left unshared. 

Their feast was interrupted when dojo students, drawn by the smell, hovered hopefully. Victor tossed them a raw hunk. 

"Figure it out yourselves."