(I apologize for any japanese error on the names mentioned.)

You owned a small and common dojo were you trained the village kids and adults in the kenjutsu. You lived your life normally and everybody on the village knew you.

One day, the door of the building opened, it was a green-haired kid, his name was Roronoa Zoro. He started to frequent your work, wishing to be the world's greatest swordsman. You answered him that he was too young to be under your harsh train, yet, he was stubborn.

When he was eight, you finally let him be your apprentice. He had a very unusual sword style, that himself named it as Santoryu. You were quite confused, but if he could use that three bokutōs that easily... Who you were to judge?

It was another day of classes. You saw failures, you saw winnings, you helped them and spotted friendships. With a smile on the face, you sat on the engawa peacefully, before hearing quick and small steps coming towards you. You knew very well who it was.

"Sensei! Sensei! Fight with me!" Zoro exclaimed. Well, good chat!