Doraemon: Starting by Taking Care of Tamako Nobi

After the commotion, the group finally left the town behind.

Hiro slid the Electrosaber into the belt at his waist, keeping it close just in case. Who knew what kind of bandits or thugs they might run into on the road? Best to be prepared rather than flail around in panic when danger strikes.

"Excuse me... I have a request!"

A voice suddenly called out from behind. It was the young man Hiro had saved earlier just a few years older than them.

"My name is Shinmen Musashi."

"Please, I beg you take me as your disciple! To become the greatest swordsman, I want to learn from someone as skilled as you."

Without hesitation, Shinmen Musashi knelt before Hiro, his expression deadly serious, not a trace of jest in his tone.

"Eh? No, no, that's impossible. I can't be your master. You should look for someone else," Hiro replied in a fluster, waving his hands awkwardly and forcing a smile.

What swordsmanship? Everything was thanks to the Electrosaber. He was just a poser, hardly the kind of person who could teach someone else.

He tried to walk around Musashi and keep going.

Hiro picked up his pace, but Shinmen Musashi followed closely behind. Hiro sped up again, and so did Musashi.

"Hey, can you stop following us already? Go find a guy named Miyamoto Musashi and ask him to be your master!"

"Miyamoto Musashi? I've never heard of that name. Is he a famous master? Still, I'd rather follow you, Master."

This guy was sticking to him like glue, absolutely impossible to shake off.

As Hiro grew increasingly irritated by this stubborn follower, a crowd of townsfolk came running over.

Without a word, they all knelt.

"We witnessed your incredible martial skill. Please, become the guardian of our town!"

"We beg you!"

Their voices rang out in unison, hoping Hiro would agree to protect them from the notorious Horse-Face Gang.

"Here, Nobita. Take the Electrosaber. You can handle the task of protecting peace," Hiro said, handing the sword over with a sly grin.

After all, less power meant less responsibility and more comfort. No way was he going to act as free security for people who didn't even offer protection money. He wasn't from this era. They were just here as tourists.

"Eh? I can't do it! Hiro, you're the one for the job. We'll all help you," Nobita protested, quickly ducking behind Doraemon at the mention of confronting bandits.

Gian and Suneo followed suit.

Tools might grant power, but they couldn't instill courage.

"Wait! We accept!"

Shinmen Musashi suddenly sprang forward, answering on their behalf.

"Hey! Who said you could speak for us?! And when did you become one of us?!"

"To see evil and do nothing that is cowardice."

"A true warrior must help those in need. That is the way of the samurai," Musashi declared earnestly.

Hiro stared at this so-called genius and thought maybe he should've kicked him away earlier.

"You sound righteous and all, but I'm not a samurai. If you want to go, then go yourself."

He turned away, done with this guy's reckless gall.

But then Gian caught the fever again struck by a surge of so-called samurai spirit. That speech must've touched a nerve. His idol once said the same thing.

Three voices make a tiger. In the end, Hiro gave in and agreed to help them eliminate the Horse-Face Gang. It definitely had nothing to do with the banquet the townsfolk had already prepared.

…

…

Inside a grand estate, a lavish feast had already been laid out. Doraemon and local merchants sat on either side of the long banquet hall. Hiro sat on the raised platform, in the position of honor.

His cheeks were flushed. He looked drunk.

Even low-alcohol drinks were too much for him. After just a few sips, he was dazed and fuzzy-headed. Truly a lightweight.

"More music! More dancing!"

"The Horse-Face Gang? A mere flick of the wrist and they're done for!"

Downing another bowl of sweet rice wine, Hiro threw his arms around a pair of passable-looking sisters, raising his cup with bold declarations.

"Oh, Lord Samurai, you're so reliable! And cute too! Have another drink."

"Naughty, Lord Samurai. You can't just touch that place..."

One poured wine. The other blushed, shoulder exposed, gently shielding her chest with a fluttering hand.

Hiro was elated. Drinking fine wine, caressing soft curves round and hard to grasp, he could only control about seventy or eighty percent of it. And still, he couldn't help teasing.

"Damn it! That Hiro... he's getting way too carried away. I want pretty girls too I mean, I want to wipe out those scumbag bandits immediately!"

Watching Hiro bask in springtime glory up on the platform, Gian, Nobita, and Suneo each harbored their own levels of envy and frustration.

He was hogging all the fun while letting his bros drink leftovers. Unforgivable.

"So, Hiro, when are we going to take down the Horse-Face Gang?" Doraemon asked casually, munching on a snack. He already had Mini, so he wasn't jealous about any of it.

"No rush. I just need to get some fresh air, then we'll head out."

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me."

Hiro pulled his hands back, rose, and stepped out into the courtyard, hoping the breeze would clear his dizzy head.

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

From the bamboo grove came the sound of blades slicing through the air, swift and sharp like a hawk tearing through the sky.

Curious, Hiro followed the sound and found Shinmen Musashi, shirtless and swinging his sword with practiced grace.

His eyes were razor sharp, locked entirely on the sword.

His movements were fluid and refined clearly the result of years of relentless practice. Even a complete novice like Hiro could tell.

"Ching!"

The Electrosaber leapt from its sheath, its grip still carrying the faint fragrance of women's perfume.

Startled by the sudden flash, Musashi instinctively raised his sword to block.

"Clang!"

Blades clashed with a sharp ring as Musashi stumbled back two steps before regaining his stance.

"Master!"

"Pfft. Who are you calling master? I've told you I don't know any sword techniques."

Hiro let out a sigh, looking at the simple, maybe even foolishly earnest Musashi.

One glance at the boy's face and it was clear he didn't believe him. But Hiro wasn't being humble. He really didn't know anything!

"All right. Let me ask you something."

"If you can wield a sword, why didn't you fight back that day?"

Leaning against the bamboo, Hiro rubbed his rosy cheeks, still a little tipsy.

"Why...?"

"Because I didn't know if I could win. If I lost..."

Musashi lowered his head, his voice low. In this era, losing could mean death. He didn't dare gamble.

"Wait you've never fought anyone before?"

"No..."

"Oh my god. No wonder."

All that skill but no guts to use it that was a serious problem. Hiro scratched his ear, staring at this troubled young man.

What he needed wasn't a good teacher. He needed the courage to face his enemies head-on.

Courage... But how do you teach someone that...?