A wave of gasps ran through the gathered students. The senior instructor took a step forward, his fists balled up, but Master Sato held up a single hand to stop him.
"You thought this dojo was made of wood and land," Master Sato said, tossing the bokken sword onto the floor right in front of Kenji's trembling hands. "It is not. It is built on honor. And honor cannot be bought, sold, or taken in a duel."
Kenji stared at the weapon, tears of shame finally cutting through the dirt on his face. The arrogance vanished, leaving behind a broken young man who had lost his way.
"Untie your belt, Kenji," Master Sato commanded, turning his back toward the main shrine altar. "Clean the floor, put on a white belt, and sit in the back row. Your training begins again today from lesson one."
Kenji pressed his forehead flat against the cold wooden floor, weeping silently as he bowed deep. "Forgive me... Sensei," he choked out. One by one, the students lowered their phones, bowing in unison to the ancient master who had preserved both his school and a lost soul's honor.