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"Pho...Photosyn....Photosynthesis!" (Y/n) exclaimed. Sharing her sensei's enthusiasm when she pronounced the word correctly. For after classes were over, and everyone was sent home, the man spent the afternoon and evening helping the young girl improve/enhance her speech and vocabulary. Minute by Minute, gaining more progress through each teaching.
"Great! Now can you say the second word I told you?" He questioned.
"Per...Perfectionism!"
"Nicely done! And your starting to stammer less than before" He exclaimed. His smile quickly subsiding when he looked at plated Takoyaki next to him.
"However, while I'm aware that sleep quells your need to eat, and that sweets are an exception for your palette. It still worries me what effects this may have on your health"
"*smile* I understand sensei. But l..like I said you don't have to be concerned about me. I'm doing just fine so far"
The man chuckled lightly when she referred to him as Sensei. A name he thought she wouldn't call him again, especially after announcing her adoption to him to the class before their departure.
"Now (y/n), I thought I already made it clear that you can just call me dad instead of Sensei"
"Yeah, but that's because you're still my teacher, and not just my new dad"
He hummed in acknowledgment, before they both turned their attention on the seethed sword, located in the upper left corner of her room.
A sword commonly known as the Nichirin Blade, her mother's sword, that scavenged from ruins of their home, to be precise. One that was only wielded by the most skilled swordsman's. That is made made out of scarlet crimson iron sand and scarlet crimson ore, which are collected from the mountains. And was also known to give the wielders incredible control over the elements of nature. Many of them having their own unique forms and styles, with the requirement of breathing the only common thing they share. It was a fortunate miracle that it was in tact amongst the wreckage, as it wasn't specialized weapon, but now the only reminder of her late parent.
