The use of reiterate doesn't escape him, and, just faintly, he smiles. It's there for a moment and gone the next, an almost illusory flicker -- a twitch of the lips, but it's something. He's used to being underwhelmed not only by students, but by people in general, thanks to his own often unreasonably high standards. These sorts of pleasant surprises are... well, always surprises, as used as he is to disappointment.

He understands why Munenori was so insistent on the point. Even now, it's troublesome to have a student who thought they know what they're doing without any actual instruction; in the days when it was common to carry an actual sword, that obnoxiously repetitive advice probably bludgeoned its way into some stubborn heads and saved lives. But to a modern reader... Well, it can get rather tedious, stylistically.

"I'd be interested to see what your grandfather taught you, then." And if any of its principles could improve his own style, he would be welcoming of them -- Hijikata didn't believe in rigid adherence to one style, if he could cobble together something more efficient. "If you're interested, you should come to one of our practices and see what you think." He tended to have reservations about new recruits, and almost certainly still would, but he could see potential in the boy's apparent cleverness, and his willingness to think critically.

He paused for a moment, then bowed slightly. "Toshizou Hijikata. I teach world history, as well as instructing the kendo club."