“Do you like tea?”

“…I-I don’t understand-“

“Tea. You use leaves, hot water and precious porcelain. Then you drink it. Do you like it?”

The student, while resolute in the belief of their master’s wisdom, struggles to follow this line of questioning.

“Y-yes. Tea is good.”

The weathered fighter turns around, observing the courtyard. Sounds of tenancious strikes ring around the area as weapons thud into hefty shields, punches impacting flesh.

He doesn’t look impressed, as he usually does.

Without turning around, he says, “How about some tea now?”

The student looks stunned. Training hasn’t even begun and the master is offering him t-

A teapot flies at their head.

The student slashes it in two, the shards shattering on the ground.

A teapot lid rings across the courtyard, just barely missing as they duck to the ground.

There’s one, two, three of them. Armed with porcelain apparently.

“I understand, master.”

“Yes. Training has begun. Enjoy your tea.”

“Yes Sensei.”

The old man begins to walk away to the sound of shattering porcelain and aggressive battle cries.