Chapter 11: A Whetstone
Even though she had been easily defeated, Uta wasn't ready to admit Satoru was better. She convinced herself it was a fluke, a moment of carelessness. Next time, victory would be hers.
But reality is stubborn. No matter how many times she challenged him throughout the day, no matter what angle she attacked from, she couldn't gain a single advantage. The gap was just too wide.
"What's wrong, Uta? You look unhappy."
At the evening's lively banquet at the bar, Shanks noticed his daughter's subdued mood. He slid onto the bench beside her, his voice tinged with concern.
"Why is he so strong?" Uta mumbled, pouting into her glass of juice. "I fought him all day. Didn't win once. It's like... he's on a completely different level. Like he's as strong as a grown-up."
Even though Satoru was only two years older, in the world of children, that still made them peers. To be so thoroughly outclassed by a peer was a bitter pill for the proud girl.
"Satoru, huh?"
Shanks's mind conjured the image of the white-haired boy with those unsettlingly perceptive eyes. That kid was anything but ordinary.
"Don't worry about it, Uta. Tomorrow, your old man will get revenge for you. I'll teach that Satoru a little lesson."
"No!" Uta declared, slamming her glass down with sudden ferocity. "I'll get my own revenge! I don't need your help! I will beat him myself!"
She hopped off the bench and marched to a clear space near the edge of the party, determinedly starting a series of stretches and practice punches.
"What's with Uta? Why's she training so late?" Lucky Roux asked around a mouthful of meat, watching the girl's focused shadow.
"She got a taste of reality from that Satoru kid," Shanks explained, a thoughtful smile playing on his lips. "And it's made me deeply curious about him, too."
"Captain... you're not thinking of recruiting that little monster, are you?" Yasopp asked, incredulous.
"Why not?" Shanks chuckled. "A kid with that much potential? It'd be a crime if he didn't go to sea. A pirate's life would suit him."
Satoru, resting at home, was blissfully unaware he had just become the target of a future Emperor's recruitment plans.
The next morning, Satoru rose early for his usual conditioning. Halfway through a series of precise forms, the familiar, unnerving sensation of being watched returned. This gaze was heavier, more focused than a child's.
"If you're here, you might as well come out," Satoru said without breaking his rhythm, his eyes fixed on a large oak tree in the distance. "Hiding is pointless. Unless you're planning something sneaky?"
A figure stepped out from behind the broad trunk with a laugh. It was Shanks.
"Didn't expect that," Shanks admitted, scratching his cheek. "I hid my presence pretty well. And yet, you still found me. Is it because of those eyes of yours?"
His tone was light, but his observation was sharp.
"Why are you here?" Satoru asked. He'd kept his distance from the Red-Haired Pirates. Luffy had become their shadow, but Satoru hadn't even bothered to learn all their names.
"Just curious," Shanks said, his expression disarmingly sincere. "Wanted to see for myself what makes you different from the other kids on this island."
"And? Did you see it?"
"Nope," Shanks shrugged. "Aside from those remarkable eyes, you seem like a regular, if unusually disciplined, kid. So, are we done? Should I leave you to your... jumping jacks?"
He gestured at Satoru's exercises.
"If you have no other business, then please do," Satoru replied flatly. His mind was occupied with the theoretical mechanics of Gojo Satoru's cursed techniques. Having the blueprint was one thing; forging the foundation to use them was another.
"So cold!" Shanks laughed. "After we've been neighbors for a week? You're just going to shoo me away?"
"What would you prefer? An invitation to join me for some milk?"
Shanks rubbed his chin, pretending to consider it. "Hmm... well, I wouldn't say no."
A visible vein twitched on Satoru's forehead. Shanks's brand of chaotic, good-natured logic was impossible to predict or counter.
"Ha. Okay, enough joking," Shanks said, his smile turning just a fraction more intent. "Here's the real reason. You made my precious daughter cry yesterday. Don't you think you owe me some kind of explanation for that?"
"So you're here for Uta's revenge," Satoru stated. A strange, thrilling heat began to simmer in his chest. The idea of facing this man, even in a test, sent a jolt of pure excitement through him. The current Red-Haired Shanks was undoubtedly powerful. He would be the perfect whetstone to gauge his own progress.
"Exactly. For the sake of fairness, I won't use my sword. Just fists and feet. And of course," Shanks added, his grin widening, "if you want to surrender now, that's perfectly acceptable."
"Confident, aren't you?" Satoru replied, shifting into a ready stance. His heart pounded, but his voice remained steady. "Who wins and who loses? You won't know until the end."
He knew his chances of victory were slim to none, but talking a big game wasn't against the rules. A little psychological pressure never hurt.
"Spoken like a true fighter! Then let's see what backs up that confidence! Don't blame me for not going easy on you, kid!"
Before the last word faded, Shanks's form blurred.
He wasn't ten meters away anymore. He was right in front of Satoru, having closed the distance in an eyeblink.
So fast!
"Attacking first in a fight with a kid? That's not very honorable," Satoru managed to think, more surprised by the tactic than the speed itself.
"In a real fight, there's only victory or defeat. No such thing as 'honor,'" Shanks said, his fist already shooting forward—not toward Satoru's face, but aimed squarely at his stomach, pulled of course to a non-lethal degree.
But then, Shanks felt it.
His forward momentum... stopped. His fist slowed, then halted completely, hovering just a few centimeters from Satoru's shirt. An invisible, viscous force field seemed to surround the boy. He couldn't push through. He couldn't pull back easily. It was like punching into thick, hardening syrup.
What is this? A Devil Fruit power?
Surprise flashed in Shanks's eyes. Aside from a rare paramecia-type ability, he had no other explanation for the bizarre phenomenon. This kid was full of surprises.
(End of Chapter)
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