Chapter 115

Like a tranquil lake.

That was my impression when I looked into Renka's eyes through the mengane.

She didn't seem to have a single stray thought other than our sparring match.

I could already sense a lofty, domineering aura radiating from her.

I knew this wouldn't be easy, but now I was certain—scoring a point would be unimaginably difficult.

“I'm not going to judge the unity of spirit, sword, and body, aside from your breathing. The important things are zanshin and a valid scoring strike. I want you to focus on those two things during this match.”

Exempting the unity of spirit, sword, and body was a good thing for me.

Was she being considerate?

No, with so many rounds ahead of us, she was probably just trying to conserve as much of our stamina as possible.

“I see. Understood.”

Renka would judge objectively.

Knowing her personality, letting personal bias affect her calls would only hurt her pride.

All I had to do was show her everything I had.

“When a call is made, don't sit on the starting line—stay standing.”

That sounded like we were going straight into the next round as soon as one ended.

She wasn't messing around.

I nodded, closed my eyes, and let out a long breath.

Then I opened them.

“I'm ready.”

“.....”

Seeing the solemn look in my eyes, Renka hesitated for a moment.

Was she nervous? Or surprised?

With most of her face hidden behind the mengane, it was hard to read her expression.

“I'll assume you're ready five seconds after you take your stance. Consider a single nod from me as the signal to start.”

“Yes.”

“Then... shall we begin?”

“Please instruct me.”

My tone held a level of politeness entirely different from this afternoon.

I bowed respectfully to Renka and took an Upper Stance.

At that, Renka's surprised expression faded, and her eyes settled.

Nod.

She gave the starting signal.

The moment she nodded, I stamped my foot and swung my shinai down.

In that instant—

Clack! Crack!

My shinai deflected slightly upward, and a heavy impact struck the Do at my waist.

“Ippon.”

“.....”

Renka called the point, keeping her eyes fixed on me from a Middle Stance.

Having been instantly caught by a counterattack to the Do, I could only stand there dumbfounded.

I had given up a point before I could even try anything.

Even if she had predicted my move, that was way too fast.

Her distance, power, speed, and even her form were perfect.

‘This is...’

I was too baffled to speak.

Was Renka really this fierce when she wasn't holding back?

At this rate, forget three points—I wasn't sure I could even score one.

I gritted my teeth, stared straight at Renka, and took my stance.

Focus. Just focus.

@@

Still, his frame was intimidating no matter how many times she faced it.

Plus, his fiercely offensive Upper Stance... She had thought so before, but it truly suited him.

But that was all. He hadn't firmly established his basics yet, meaning he still wasn't a match for her.

Crack!

“Ippon.”

Thwack! Smack!

“Ippon.”

Cra-a-ack!

“Ippon.”

At least, that was what she had thought—right up until Matsuda lost seven consecutive rounds to her.

Clash!

‘Ugh...!’

Now, in the eighth round, Renka had failed to repel Matsuda's charge for the very first time.

She hadn't imagined he would initiate a tsubazeriai first.

They were so close that their extended feet were touching.

Looking into Matsuda's eyes, Renka could feel his maximum concentration.

His razor-sharp gaze seemed determined not to miss the finest twitch of a muscle, and his subtly darting pupils scrutinized her every move with ferocious intensity.

And that look wasn't just for show.

As the rounds ticked by, it became increasingly difficult to land a valid scoring strike on him.

She could see his skills improving in real time.

Just moments ago, he had been helplessly battered, but not anymore.

He stepped forward or twisted his body to evade a valid scoring strike, and even then, he never stopped attacking, keeping her under constant pressure.

Creak...!

‘Ghk...!’

Right now, she was helplessly pinned down by the innate difference in physical strength between men and women.

She couldn't call it cowardly.

Using physical advantages was standard in any sport, and on top of that, Matsuda was pouring his entire focus into the match.

He was trying to beat her purely and wholeheartedly.

He deserved praise, not criticism.

Realizing she couldn't keep this up, Renka slid her foot to the side, slipping free of Matsuda's crushing pressure.

At the same time, she thrust her shinai toward his waist.

Right then—

Smack!

With timing so perfect it sounded like a single impact, the strikes rang out from both her and Matsuda's bodies simultaneously.

A heavy, stinging sensation shot up from her wrist.

Realizing she had been caught by Matsuda's attack, Renka was shocked.

‘N-No way...’

She had assumed any counterattack from that angle would have to target her head, yet he had gone for her wrist...

Doing that would hurt his own hands... His sheer obsession was incredible.

Furthermore, the strikes landed at the exact same moment, and both of their striking areas had made clean contact for a valid scoring strike.

When both strikes succeed at the same time, it is called a simultaneous strike.

When this happens, even an attack that would otherwise secure an Ippon is nullified.

A simultaneous strike was rare even in actual matches, yet one had just occurred in this sparring session.

‘That was way too close...’

It was incredibly fortunate for her.

If his attack had been even a fraction of a second faster, she would have lost a point.

Swallowing hard at Matsuda's desperate, critical blow, Renka spoke.

“....It's a simultaneous strike.”

“What a shame.”

He said it in a low, flat voice devoid of actual regret, sending a chill down her spine.

She had a feeling that if she didn't keep her wits about her, she would lose a lot of points.

Nod.

Crack!

An exchange of blows erupted the instant she signaled the restart of the voided eighth round.

The ferocity behind Matsuda's strike traveled up her shinai and into her arms.

Enduring the stinging sensation, Renka prepared to counterattack, but—

Swoosh!

As Matsuda's shinai darted toward her neck with incredible speed, she tried to swing her arm.

‘Deflect and strike the wrist...’

Cra-a-a-ack!

But when a sharp, clear sound rang out from the dead center of the top of her Men, she couldn't hide her shock.

‘Huh...?’

She... had just been hit.

She had surrendered her head to Matsuda's animalistic reflexes.

Power control, distance, form... The three elements were in perfect harmony. It was a flawless strike, far more advanced than when he had aimed for Tetsuya's neck this afternoon, and she had taken the hit without a chance to react.

She had been fully prepared for any situation, yet she had let a split-second window slip past her.

She had lost a point in just the eighth round.

Her insides were boiling, but she needed to make the call first.

She had to admit what needed to be admitted.

“....Ippon... You scored a point.”

“Yes.”

Despite having every reason to celebrate, Matsuda answered calmly and stepped back to the starting line.

Shiver.

Watching Matsuda focus with his emotions completely suppressed, Renka felt an inexplicable chill crawl down her spine and spread across her body.

He looked like a monster right now. Was it just her imagination?

Swish...

Seeing Matsuda raise his arms high above his head at the starting line, Renka banished all her stray thoughts.

He wasn't dwelling on the past; he was entirely focused on the present.

She needed to do the same. She didn't have the luxury of letting her mind wander.

Now was the time to show him everything she had.

If only to stop him from going astray, she had to crush his spirit right here, before he grew any further and tried to devour her entirely.

Crack!

A stinging pain flared in my left wrist.

Furrowing my brows, I stared up at the ceiling and let out a hollow sigh.

Renka withdrew her shinai and spoke.

“Pant... Pant... Ippon...”

“....I lost.”

Out of thirty rounds, 3 wins and 27 losses.

That was my record when the sparring ended.

I had gotten exactly the three points I'd aimed for.

It was something to celebrate, yet my frustration felt much greater.

I had told myself I didn't mind losing as long as it served my purpose, but the act of losing itself was deeply frustrating.

Especially losing twenty-seven times.

I had been training incredibly hard in secret, but I guess the gap in experience couldn't be ignored.

Still, I needed to stay positive.

I hadn't been learning Kendo for very long.

To take three wins off Renka—someone with immense talent who never slacked off and had dedicated her entire life to Kendo—I should be satisfied.

Too much greed always leads to disaster.

I got what I wanted, so I might as well head home in a good mood.

The moment I took off my Men in front of the window, a cool breeze brushed across my face and dried my sweat.

I could finally breathe a little.

The physical and mental drain was so massive... I just wanted to crash and sleep without even washing up.

I adjusted the collar of my sweat-stained Training Uniform, walked over to Renka—who was leaning against the Training Room wall to catch her breath—and bowed slightly.

“Thank you for the match.”

“.....”

Her hair was completely drenched, clinging to her skin. She looked incredibly sexy.

Personality aside, her face simply oozed sensuality.

The blueberry scent tickling my nose was stronger than usual, making my head spin.

Suppressing the urge to pounce on her right then and there, I continued.

“It's a total defeat. I feel like I scored those three points out of sheer luck.”

Did she not expect me to say something so humble?

Renka's eyes went wide.

She stared at me blankly, as if organizing her thoughts, before pushing her exhausted body upright and giving my back a light smack.

“It wasn't luck. You earned those with your own skill. I could tell you put in a lot of effort. You've been working hard with Chinami.”

“Are you just being polite?”

“I mean it. Honestly... it was unexpected. I thought I would win every round, or at the absolute worst, lose maybe one point to bad luck.”

Renka's expression didn't look very happy.

Was she sulking because she had planned to crush me entirely, but ended up giving up three wins?

“Did you learn anything from this sparring session?”

Renka asked.

I grabbed a towel resting nearby, wiped my face, and answered.

“Yeah. I understand how my past opponents felt.”

“Why is that?”

“Most of my 27 losses were completely helpless. Every time it happened, my pride took a serious hit. It also made me a little angry when you, President, looked at me with those indifferent eyes. I guess you'd call this putting oneself in another's shoes, right?”

“Well... something like that.”

“Or maybe it's mirror therapy? Anyway, from now on, I'm going to spar while considering how my opponent feels.”

“....Really?”

My answer must have pleased her, because Renka's demeanor softened significantly.

We might go right back to how we usually were by tomorrow... but at least for now, right after our match and having acknowledged each other's skill, I figured I could enjoy this atmosphere.

“I also realized just how amazing you are, President.”

“Stop with the sweet talk. As promised, I'll drop the ones digit.”

Renka brought up the topic of the wishes.

I smirked playfully and said, “So you get two wishes, President? If there's anything you want, just say the word.”

“....When are you... going to use yours?”

“Me? Well... I'll see how things go.”

“We... didn't set an expiration date, did we? Don't you think it's only right that we set one now?”

She asked about the permissible scope earlier too... How nitpicky.

Is she really that anxious?

“Shall we make it one month?”

“One month...? Okay.”

Nodding slowly, Renka headed over to the water dispenser for a drink.

I learned a lot from sparring with her today.

To the point where I was actually grateful.

But gratitude was gratitude, and a wish was a wish.

I wasn't going to hold back.