It was the first day back on the roster for Bakuto, and he decided it was best spent brushing up on what he had learned over the years. Locking the front door of his small studio apartment seemed cathartic; it was the first time he had set out to work hard since his return to the continent. With nothing left but the path ahead of him, Bakuto took that first step towards his future with a confident stride, a backpack full of snacks and water slung over his shoulder.
A few blocks later, that confident stride had diminished into something much more leisurely and menadering. "Ugh," the red-headed swordsman whined. "This shit sucks. Why'd I have to make today the day I start training? The sun is friggin' beaming, I could be in a nice, cool pachinko parlor or something." Nevertheless, despite his own complaining, he could have easily turned tail and head back home. Deep down Bakuto knew that he couldn't be lazy anymore, the time for cheating his way through life without hard work was behind him. (For the most part, anyway.)
Finding himself in a sizable open area, Bakuto sat his backpack down against a metal fence and walked to the center of the clearing. Contrary to the concrete jungle that made up the majority of the village, this area was primarily grass and dirt, making it the perfect place for someone to practice their technique undisturbed.