ONE PIECE: FLOW OF FATE

The harsh winter had truly set in, blanketing Tundveil in a thick, unforgiving layer of snow and ice. Most outdoor activities had come to a grinding halt, but that didn't deter Renjiro from his goal; if anything, the biting cold only sharpened his resolve.

The most challenging time of the year has arrived, Renjiro thought, watching his breath mist in the frigid air. It's going to be a pain to go through this once more. Although I can't do my outdoor runs, I can still do the others, which won't be a problem.

For the past half-year, Renjiro had worked tirelessly on his swordsmanship under Drake's tutelage. Alongside Maria, they had both improved a lot, not just in their mastery of the "Mercenary's Edge," but in their overall physical conditioning and tactical thinking. Their movements were faster, more precise, their endurance noticeably greater.

Renjiro pulled on his thickest fur-lined jacket and reinforced boots, dressed appropriately for the biting weather, and headed for his lesson with Drake. There, already waiting in the snow-dusted clearing, he found Maria, bundled up and stomping her feet impatiently to ward off the cold

"I thought you would've stayed home because of the snow," Maria started, a hint of grudging respect in her tone. "I guess you really are determined."

"Yeah, more determined than you," Renjiro shot back, a smirk playing on his lips, already falling into their familiar rhythm. Just as they almost continued their usual bickering, Drake entered, carrying a worn leather satchel.

"Alright, you two," Drake announced, his voice gruff but with an underlying current of anticipation. "Today will be your first duel. You've been training for half a year, pushing your limits through every season. And now, the promised season for this kind of trial has finally come. Not Winter, mind you," he added with a dry chuckle, seeing their unimpressed faces. "You both know what I mean."

He shook off their unenthusiastic reactions. "Ahem, anyway, this won't be a duel where I consider brute strength, but overall performance and techniques." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a half-eaten loaf of bread, tearing off a piece.

He then grabbed a sturdy wooden chair from the cabin, its legs scraping loudly on the wooden floor as he dragged it outside. Settling himself onto it with a creak, Drake pulled out a half-eaten loaf of bread from his jacket pocket. With a casual, almost dismissive air that belied the seriousness of the moment, he took a large bite, chewing slowly. Then, with a crumb-laden hand, he gestured towards them. "Get into your stances!" he commanded, his eyes boring into theirs over the crust of his bread.

"START!"

They both stood ready and precise. Renjiro knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

Okay, calm down, Renjiro coached himself, standing firm just as Drake had taught him. His heart pounded a steady rhythm against his ribs, a physical manifestation of the adrenaline coursing through his small body. It's not about embarrassment or who's 'technically' younger than whom. This is just about technique, not strength. Focus. Every lesson, every correction Drake hammered into me... it all leads to this moment. 

Renjiro, today will be the day you see the difference between a lion and a cat, Maria grunted internally, her eyes locked on him, shining with an almost predatory glint. Her knuckles were white around the grip of her wooden sword, her muscles coiled tight, ready to spring. He's been irritating me for half a year, this little upstart. Acting like he knows everything. I won't let him see me as a kid, but as a superior. My Father, Drake, picked me for this, not him. I have to prove I'm worthy. I have to prove I'm stronger, smarter, faster. I have to win.

Just then, Maria pushed in towards Renjiro with a brutal, diagonal slash. The wooden blade whistled through the air, aimed for his head with a speed that startled even him.

She's fast! Faster than in drills when Drake's watching every move. Renjiro's mind raced, processing the attack. Predictable opening, but executed with unexpected ferocity. Don't rely on luck. Apply the teaching. Use her momentum.

Renjiro dodged, weaving under the sweeping strike, his body fluid despite its small size, and instantly replied back with a horizontal slash of his own, aiming for her exposed side. Maria parried it with a sharp clang. The raw power in his counter-attack surprised her. He's getting strong! Then, quick as a viper, she twisted her torso and moved left, attempting to trip him and catch him off balance, a move Drake had taught them just weeks ago. Her grin widened, confident in her maneuver.

Got him! He'll fall, and then I'll be able to get a clear hit. This is my chance to show Drake he chose the right one to train! Maria thought, already anticipating his collapse.

She turned around quickly, expecting to find him stumbling, but Renjiro, surprisingly, didn't trip. He had caught himself, planting his feet firmly, his balance impeccable, and was already preparing a parry, his wooden sword held low, ready for her next strike. Maria's eyes narrowed in frustration. How did he recover so fast? That should have worked! He's just lucky! Always lucky!

She's using all her strength and displaying a good amount of techniques, Renjiro assessed, a hint of grudging respect forming in his mind, even as his lungs burned. She's connecting her moves well, flowing from offense to defense. I guess I'll have to be serious. Let's not underestimate Maria. If I keep just reacting, I'll eventually make a mistake. I need to force an opening.

Maria turned around with another fast horizontal slash, pushing her weight behind it, her frustration fueling her speed. Just as the blow came, Renjiro dodged under it, his body barely clearing the arc of her swing, feeling the rush of air above him. Then, in a fluid, almost too-quick motion, he parried an immediate follow-up attack aimed at her side of the torso, deflecting it with a sharp thwack.

Maria launched a flurry of strikes then, faster and more desperate, trying to overwhelm him. She combined overhead chops with low sweeps, alternating directions, forcing him to move, to defend, to parry. The winter air filled with the rapid thwack-thwack of wood on wood. I have to break his rhythm! I have to force him back! He can't keep this up! I know I'm stronger, I know I'm faster! This is my fight! she screamed internally, pouring every ounce of her frustration and training into her attacks. Her muscles screamed, but she pushed through the pain, imagining Renjiro crumbling before her.

Footwork, Renjiro! Keep your base! Use her momentum! Drake's voice echoed in his head, a constant, ingrained instruction, clearer than his own thoughts. He moved with a surprising grace for his size, flowing from block to parry, his defense a solid wall. She's expending too much energy. Her form is breaking down. I just need to hold the line, let her tire herself out. My stamina is better. Drake's conditioning is paying off. He was economical, every movement purposeful, conserving energy where Maria expended it in frustrated bursts. His senses were alive, trying to predict her next move, that faint, intangible prickle of warning occasionally flaring up, guiding his instinctive reactions. 

Drake watched from his chair, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He continued to chew on his bread, his eyes never leaving the two children. He saw Maria's raw power and fierce determination, her willingness to fight for every inch. She's a whirlwind. All passion and fire. Strong, growing stronger. But he also saw Renjiro's terrifying efficiency, his analytical mind applying every lesson, and that strange, almost unnatural instinct that sometimes guided his dodges. He's not just learning; he's becoming, Drake thought, his gaze lingering on Renjiro. He's already thinking three steps ahead, adapting, conserving. And that flicker in his movements... interesting. And Maria… she'll make him work for it. Good.

The duel stretched on, a dance of practiced violence, punctuated by heavy breathing and the clatter of wood. Maria landed a solid hit on Renjiro's arm, causing him to grunt, a flash of pain shooting up his limb. Damn! That actually hurt! She's not just flailing. But he immediately retaliated, sweeping her legs with his blade, forcing her to hop to avoid falling. They were both breathing heavily now, sweat beading on their foreheads despite the cold. Maria's movements became slightly less precise, her desperation growing. I'm tired. So tired. But I can't stop. Not now. Not when he's still standing there, like nothing's bothering him. I have to win!

Finally, Renjiro saw his opening. Maria overextended on a lunge, her guard momentarily open, her focus narrowed by exhaustion. Now. He moved in, a quick, almost imperceptible feint with his blade drawing her attention one way, before his body twisted and his sword came around in a swift, clean horizontal strike, tapping her side just beneath her ribcage. It wasn't a hard hit, but it was undeniable, perfectly executed, a testament to months of disciplined practice.

Maria froze, the air leaving her lungs in a defeated gasp. Her sword dropped to her side, clattering softly on the ground. No... I lost? How? I was so close! He just got lucky! He has to have! Her chest heaved with exertion and a crushing wave of disappointment.

"STOP!" Drake's voice cut through the panting silence, sharp and clear. He slowly stood from his chair, wiping crumbs from his mouth. "Duel's over. Renjiro, point."

Renjiro lowered his sword, his small chest heaving, his muscles aching with delightful exhaustion. He had won, purely on technique, just as Drake had demanded. Maria glared at him, frustration, anger, and a reluctant flicker of awe warring in her eyes. "Lucky!" she spat, but her voice lacked its usual conviction, tainted by the undeniable skill she had just witnessed.

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Maria," Drake said, his voice calm, walking towards them. "Renjiro demonstrated superior control, better footwork, and more efficient use of his body. He conserved energy, and his defense was tighter. You used too much brute force, relied too much on overwhelming him. You were good, very good. But he was better, today." Drake's gaze then flickered to Renjiro, a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. "Both of you are improving remarkably. That's enough for today. Go rest."

Renjiro simply nodded, too tired to gloat, a small, triumphant smile playing on his lips. He was bone-weary, but a profound satisfaction settled in his chest. I won. And that strange feeling... that brief, guiding prickle... it's real. It's truly real. I just need to figure out how to summon it on command. This is just the beginning.

As the fight stopped, Maria got up, and went towards Renjiro. Is she still mad? Renjiro thought, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. I can't entertain her bickering right now, I'm tired.

"That was a good duel," Maria said, her voice surprisingly calm, lacking the usual competitive edge. To Renjiro's utter astonishment, she bowed deeply, a sign of respect he hadn't seen from her before, and extended her hand. "I hope to have more like these with you."

Renjiro blinked, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Wow, plot twist. I honestly didn't see this coming. He grasped her hand, a firm shake passing between them. "Does that mean I won?" he couldn't resist teasing.

She stood back up, pulling her hand away with a huff, and her usual sass returned. "Yeah, right! You only won because I was being very offensive. If I played more tactically, I would've definitely won!" she exclaimed, crossing her arms.

"Excuses, excuses," Renjiro countered, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "You lost because I'm better at analyzing the momentum of the fight, which led me not to go on the offensive until I saw an opening, hence my winning."

They continued their familiar bickering as usual, the sound of their squabbling filling the frosty air until they suddenly spotted Drake leaning against the cabin's exterior wall shamelessly shedding a single, dramatic tear.

They both looked at him, their argument momentarily forgotten. Drake wiped his eye with the back of his hand, a wide, theatrical grin spreading across his face. "Finally! My daughter getting along with her husband! What a day to be alive!" he boomed, obviously wanting to create a commotion and thoroughly embarrass them.

Shameless. Just shameless, Renjiro thought, his face paling slightly. He still hasn't gotten over this ridiculous idea.

Maria, on the other hand, didn't take that comment so easily. "Father!!" she screamed, her face a furious red. She quickly bent down, scooped up a handful of loose snow from a pile on the ground, and hurled it at him. Then, with a furious yell, she went charging after him as he left the area, laughing raucously.

Thus came to an end a duel of clarity and development, from which both sides benefited, not just in skill, but perhaps in a grudging, newfound respect.