The relentless cogs of political machinations within his organization had ground down Tōga's spirit. A man of action, a seeker of thrills and uncharted territories, he found the civic obligations of his rank a stifling burden. The departure of General Kon, the ascension of Saturn, and the ensuing turbulence had left him feeling drained and disillusioned.

The constant shuttling between Era and far-flung corners of the world had taken its toll. Tōga craved a respite, a chance to reconnect with the joy that had been extinguished beneath a mountain of responsibilities.

Luluhawa Island beckoned, a familiar haven of tranquility. A swift voyage across the azure expanse brought him back to its sun-kissed shores, where he longed to lose himself in the embrace of nature's serenity. He would reconnect with old acquaintances and immerse himself in the vibrant local culture later. For now, he sought solitude, a chance to recharge his weary soul.

Making his way to a secluded stretch of beach, he unfurled a blanket on the soft sand and laid his belongings aside, the weight of his twin swords a comforting presence even in repose. As the world faded into a gentle hum, a serene smile graced his lips.

He stretched out, allowing the warmth of the sun to seep into his bones, a contented sigh escaping his lips. The tranquility of his surroundings was a balm to his frayed nerves, a much-needed respite from the chaos that had consumed his life.

But the serenity was short-lived. A new aroma, carried on the gentle breeze, piqued his senses, a subtle intrusion into his private oasis.

"Huh?" Tōga's mismatched eyes snapped open, scanning the horizon with a newfound alertness. "Someone's coming."

The idyllic scene was momentarily disrupted, a ripple of anticipation coursing through him. Who would venture to this secluded corner of paradise? Was it a friend, a foe, or simply a curious wanderer drawn by the island's allure?

As the footsteps drew closer, Tōga's hand instinctively drifted towards his swords, a reflexive gesture born of years spent honing his warrior instincts. Yet, there was no fear in his gaze, only a flicker of curiosity.

Whoever this newcomer was, they were about to share in Tōga's refuge, a momentary respite from the tumult of the world. And perhaps, in the shared silence of this sun-drenched beach, a new adventure would begin, a chance encounter that would spark a flame of camaraderie and reignite the dragon slayer's passion for life.

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wc: 434

Tōga's grip on the hilt of Zangetsu relaxed as he rose from his sandy preserve. A heightened olfactory sense had alerted him to an approaching presence, but the air remained sweet with the scent of sea salt and sun-warmed flora. There was no hint of malice, no reason to brace for an attack. This was affirmed by a cheerful voice that grew louder as its owner emerged from the morning haze.

"Oh," Tōga murmured, his heterochromatic eyes adjusting to the sunlight as he took in the newcomer's form. A figure wreathed in vibrant hues, hair as dark as midnight cascading down their back, approached with an infectious enthusiasm.

"Hi!!!!" Tōga echoed, his voice mirroring the newcomer's ebullient tone. A moment ago, his instincts had been primed for combat, but now he found himself easing back into a seated position, a playful grin replacing his initial wariness.

"Sorry! I thought the beach was deserted," he offered, a mixture of sheepishness and curiosity in his expression. He took in the stranger's bronze skin, their hair flowing like a silken banner in the breeze, a cascade of chestnut hues shimmering in the morning light.

"But it's for everyone, so I shouldn't be hogging it, hahaha." Rising to his full height, Tōga stretched out a hand in greeting, his mismatched eyes sparkling with warmth.

"I'm Tōga. Nice to meet ya!"

The tension that had momentarily gripped the air dissipated like mist before the rising sun. The dragon slayer's initial apprehension gave way to a burgeoning sense of camaraderie. There was an undeniable charm to this stranger, a vibrancy that seemed to radiate from their very being.

Perhaps this chance encounter was a stroke of serendipity, a reminder that even in solitude, connection could be found. As Tōga awaited the stranger's response, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement, a spark of anticipation for the untold adventures that might lie ahead.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows that danced upon the sand. The rhythmic lull of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to this unexpected meeting.

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wc: 366 [800]

"Nice to meet ya, Zeno-san!" Tōga's greeting overflowed with the warmth and respect ingrained in his Joyan upbringing. Every syllable resonated with the vibrant cadence of his homeland as he eagerly clasped Zeno's outstretched hand. A hearty shake and a playful wag later, the two Dragon Slayers broke their contact, leaving behind an afterglow of camaraderie.

"Indeed, it's quite serene here, isn't it?" Tōga gestured expansively toward the ocean, where the rhythmic dance of the waves kissed the sandy shore. He admired the natural calligraphy of the jagged rock formations that punctuated the coastline, their contours allowing the sea to weave in and out in an enchanting, perpetual dance. "This part of the beach is a hidden gem, really. Away from the clamor of parties and the bustling crowd that frequents the other side," he explained, his voice carrying a note of fondness for the quieter alcove they found themselves in. His time on Luluhawa Island had woven into his being a deep appreciation for its culture and idiosyncrasies, making him feel almost like a local, embedded within its vibrant community.

When Zeno settled beside him on the blanket and inquired about his swordsmanship, Tōga's expression shifted to one of thoughtful contemplation. "Hmm, good question," he mused, his gaze drifting to the twin blades resting nearby. A sheepish grin spread across his face as he grappled with how to articulate his journey as a swordsman. "It's a bit of a mystery, to be honest. I'm still very much on the path of discovery when it comes to wielding these blades. You know what they say—actions speak louder than words."

"Here, why don't you try one?" Tōga proposed, his eyes lighting up with a spontaneous idea. He offered one of his swords to Zeno, an invitation to test the weight and feel of the weapon. "Let's have a friendly spar. It might give you a better sense of it, and hey, you can share your perspective with me!" His tone was encouraging, laced with excitement at the prospect of learning from the exchange and deepening their newfound acquaintance through the timeless dance of duelists.

This spontaneous invitation was quintessential Tōga—always ready to transform a moment of curiosity into an opportunity for shared experience and mutual discovery. It spoke volumes about his character: his openness to feedback, his eagerness to learn, and his innate ability to forge connections through shared activities.

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wc: 419 [1219]

The joy that radiated from Tōga upon Zeno's acceptance of his sparring offer was palpable, transcending mere happiness. His smile blossomed, stretching from ear to ear, revealing a gleaming array of teeth punctuated by elongated canines—a reminder of his draconic heritage.

"Thanks! I think we're going to learn a lot from one another in this duel," Tōga exclaimed, his words brimming with unbridled enthusiasm. For him, this moment was more than a simple exchange of blows; it was a bridge to his cultural roots. In Joya, his homeland, the art of swordsmanship was as integral to daily life as breathing. The symbiosis between forging, blacksmithing, and wielding the blade was as natural and rhythmic as the celestial dance of sun and moon, as essential as the interplay of warmth and breeze that caressed the land. To truly understand the katana was to grasp the very essence of Joyan identity—a profound connection Tōga yearned to forge.

With reverence, Tōga lifted one of his prized weapons. "Here, this is Rengoku's Kimetsu," he explained, extending the tiger-striped katana to Zeno, hilt-first. "Exercise caution—its edge is razor-sharp, and it harbors an innate affinity for fire." He deliberately omitted mentioning the blade's supernatural efficacy against nocturnal creatures, deeming it unnecessary information for their friendly bout.

"I'll wield this one—Zangetsu," Tōga announced, hoisting the imposing black cleaver overhead before resting its blunt edge on his shoulder. "Zangetsu was my first weapon, with Rengoku following as my second. Typically, I use them in tandem, but this single-handed practice will prove valuable." As he spoke, Tōga pivoted, creating a ten-meter gulf between himself and Zeno before facing his sparring partner once more.

"Zeno, the opening move is yours!" Tōga declared, his posture a blend of relaxed readiness and eager anticipation.

In this moment, the beach transformed into an arena of cultural exchange and martial artistry. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore provided a melodic backdrop to their impending duel, while the salt-laden breeze carried whispers of ancient traditions and modern aspirations. For Tōga, this wasn't merely about honing his combat skills; it was a pilgrimage of sorts, a quest to honor his heritage while carving out his own unique path. Each swing of the blade, each step in the sand, would be a brushstroke in the masterpiece of his identity—a fusion of Joyan tradition and his own draconic nature.

As he stood poised for battle, Tōga felt the weight of generations past resting upon his shoulders. The legacy of countless Joyan swordsmen seemed to flow through Zangetsu, merging with his own strength and spirit. This duel with Zeno wasn't just a test of skill; it was an opportunity to breathe life into the teachings of his ancestors, to make tangible the abstract concepts of honor, discipline, and artistry that defined Joyan swordsmanship.

As he awaited Zeno's first move, Tōga's senses sharpened, attuned to every subtle shift in the environment. The grains of sand beneath his feet, the play of sunlight on Zangetsu's obsidian surface, the distant cry of seabirds—all melded into a tapestry of awareness that centered him in the present moment. Having moved to where they were now separated by 10 meters, the dragon slayer eagerly awaited Zeno’s first move.

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wc: 552 [1771]

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