The second round of matches kicked off, and every eye in the building shifted toward Arena Number 9. Fukuzawa Yukari, clad in her black kendo uniform, stepped onto the floor once again.
Just by standing there with her shinai in hand, she radiated an aura that left the girl in the white protective gear across from her visibly shaken, clearly terrified of suffering the sa fate as the girl before her.
On the Sobu High side, Koike Yuriko took her place as the Senpyo, stepping up to et their second-round opponents from Hokkaido's Kaiming High.
Koike Yuriko possessed a respectable level of skill among the three-hundred-plus teams gathered for the Gyokuryu-ki. Combined with the stroke of luck that they hadn't run into any powerhouse schools yet, she managed to defeat the opposing Senpyo, Jihi, and Chuzen. She fought to a draw against their Fukusho, eventually clinching the win in overti by scoring the first point.
After that, she faced Kaiming's Taisho, only to lose by a razor-thin margin of a single point.
Kaiming's Taisho was formidable, going on to defeat Sobu's Jihi, Chuzen, and Fukusho in succession. Finally, in a clash against Sobu's Taisho, Kaino Marin, the Kaiming captain lost by a narrow margin, handing the overall victory to Sobu.
This was a team of average, balanced strength—no singular genius standing out, just solid teamwork.
Sobu High's girls' team had officially advanced to the third round.
It was an outco no one had anticipated. After a montary stunned silence, the crowd erupted into cheers. Zaimokuza was by far the loudest among them, followed closely by Kaiko and Yui.
Then there was Shizuka; judging by her exhilarated expression, she looked like she was dying for a celebratory glass of beer. Kondo Yuika and Yukinoshita Yukino remained the most composed, offering only thin smiles to show their joy.
However, everyone's attention was quickly pulled back to Arena Number 9.
From the mont Fukuzawa Yukari stepped onto the stage, she was like a whirlwind, cutting down gods and Buddhas alike. Now that she was no longer racking up penalties, almost no opponent could withstand even a single strike; even if they managed to parry, the follow-up attack was essentially unstoppable.
The faces in Arena Number 9 changed every few minutes.
Akishin silently praised her swordsmanship, noting both her raw power and refined skill. The deafening cracks of her shinai made it sound as though the bamboo might shatter at any mont. Her movents were swift and gallant—honestly, even an adult who had undergone specialized training wouldn't stand a chance. Even Suzuki Tsuyoshi might struggle to take her down.
Vertical slashes, thrusts, horizontal strikes, low cuts, high cuts, rapid-fire combos... she executed them all with effortless grace. Despite her technical mastery, she didn't seem constrained by the formal chanics of the art. The feeling she gave Akishin was more like...
Pure instinct!
Exactly. It was instinct. She wasn't swinging the sword based on subjective thought, but rather through an instinct forged by years of grueling practice.
When faced with an attack, she subconsciously knew exactly how to parry, riposte, and strike back. Occasionally, her movents would look slightly uncoordinated, which actually proved the point—she was forcing her 'instincts' to comply with the restrictive rules of the sport.
'This year's Gyokuryu-ki girls' champion is definitely going to be her. She's a genius... or rather, "monster" is probably a more fitting term.'
There was just one thing...
Fukuzawa Yukari's leg seed to be injured.
She walked with a pronounced limp, drawing worried looks from the audience, though her determination to keep fighting despite the pain earned her a great deal of admiration.
But the strange part was that she would occasionally sprint with incredible speed, as if her leg were perfectly fine.
After Akishin observed her closely, his expression turned into one of utter confusion. He realized the limp was a total act; there was absolutely nothing wrong with her.
What was the point of faking it?
To make the enemy lower their guard?
But when you're that terrifyingly good, as long as you aren't lying flat on the ground unable to crawl, nobody is going to let their guard down against you!
He didn't get it, didn't understand it, and it made no sense to him.
Aside from her, the short girl from earlier who also shared the surna Fukuzawa was quite skilled as well, but watching her matches felt odd. Her opponents always seed incredibly angry for so reason.
Akishin turned to Mizukawa Masaru beside him. "Mizukawa, what kendo style is that Fukuzawa girl using?"
He knew a few of the heavy hitters like the 'Oda Style,' 'Hokushin Itto-ryu,' and 'Shinto-ryu.' He recognized the famous ones, but Japan had an absurd number of kendo schools; many were on the books, and even more weren't. Basically, as long as you received your nkyo Kaiden, you could slap a na on your own style.
What do you do in a situation like this?
You ask an expert, obviously.
Mizukawa Masaru ca from a kendo family in Chiba; he was bound to know most of the lineages.
Mizukawa Masaru was also staring at Arena Number 9. Hearing Akishin's question, he humd in thought. "It's very similar to Onoha Itto-ryu, but there are so distinct differences. It's likely a branch of the Ono lineage."
Mizukawa Masaru pulled out his phone. "Actually, we can just check. The organizers record data during registration."
"Can you just check personal info like that?"
"It's just basic info officially recorded by the Gyokuryu-ki, nothing private," Mizukawa Masaru explained, pulling up the official tournant site. After entering the na Fukuzawa Yukari, her profile appeared imdiately:
Fukuzawa Yukari (Headshot)
Age: 16.
School: Aichi Prefecture, Daifuku Private Academy.
Style: Ono Itto-ryu.
Notes: First-year student, first ti participating in this competition, no prior history on record.
"Ono Itto-ryu? Yeah, definitely a branch of Onoha Itto-ryu." Mizukawa Masaru looked at Akishin. "Chishima-sensei, you think she's really sothing, don't you?"
Akishin admitted it plainly. "She's the real deal. Hikigaya likely won't be able to win."
Hearing that, Hachiman glanced over, then looked back at Fukuzawa Yukari in Arena Number 9 as she floored another opponent with a single strike. He gave a quiet scoff—even if he couldn't win, so be it. He wasn't even fighting her; he was in the boys' division.
...
The elimination stages of the Gyokuryu-ki moved at a breakneck pace. The first round had already cut the field in half, and by the end of today, they would likely be through the fifth round, narrowing the field down to the final sixteen for tomorrow's high-stakes individual matches.
Sobu High's run finally hit a wall in the third round. While there was a lingering sense of disappointnt, they really had no reason to complain; everyone had expected them to be knocked out in the first round.
Beyond raw power, luck played a massive role in these things.
anwhile, the entire audience had been captivated by Arena Number 9. Every ti Fukuzawa Yukari defeated a participant, thunderous applause would erupt, right up until the matches in her arena finished ahead of schedule.
A swarm of journalists surrounded Arena Number 9, caras flashing frantically, creating a literal human wall. The giant screens above the arena kept cutting to close-ups of her.
Fukuzawa Yukari had achieved a feat of defeating twenty people in a row—a 1-on-20 streak—shattering the record for the best Fighting Spirit Award performance in history.
If she hadn't been pulled from the arena in the first round, she could have easily hit twenty-five straight wins. Without a shadow of a doubt, she was the recipient of this year's girls' Fighting Spirit Award.
Winning the championship tomorrow was now seen as an absolute certainty.
Day one ca to a close.
After a night of rest, the second day of the competition began.
Quarter-finals, semi-finals, then the final!
Unsurprisingly, the girl nad Fukuzawa Yukari once again defeated twenty opponents, securing the Gyokuryu-ki girls' team title and breaking the all-ti tournant record for the girls' division. She walked away with both the Fighting Spirit Award and the Championship trophy.
The entire arena was in an uproar, the applause sounding like rolling thunder. They felt as though they were witnessing the birth of a legend. Yui and the others clapped until their hands were beet-red—they used to think kendo was just two people hitting each other with bamboo sticks, but after seeing Akishin's training sessions with Hachiman and these matches, they realized they had been completely wrong.
Even just as spectators, they could sense how dangerous it was.
And, of course, it was incredibly exciting to watch.
...
With the girls' matches over, it was ti for the boys' division.
On the night before their first match, the entire boys' team, including Totsuka Saika and Zaimokuza, gathered in Akishin's room.
Akishin swept his gaze over the group before asking Mizukawa Masaru, "Have you guys decided who's going to be the Senpyo and who's going to be the Taisho?"
This was a big deal. The Taisho had special privileges and was usually the strongest mber to ensure the best chance of a coback, while the Senpyo position was crucial for anyone aiming for a Fighting Spirit Award.
Mizukawa Masaru replied, "It's not final yet, but I've drafted an allocation. Tell what you think." He looked at the participants one by one, lingering on Hachiman for a mont before pulling out a notebook filled with data. "I'll take the Taisho position. Hikigaya, you'll be our Senpyo. This is set up for the Fighting Spirit Award... Junior, you're the strongest among us. Based on previous years, your chances of winning it are high. Moving down the line, Suneo is Jihi, Sawada is Chuzen, and Ooguma is Fukusho. Any objections?"
Hikigaya and the others exchanged serious looks before shaking their heads in unison. "No objections."
"What do you think, Chishima-sensei?" Mizukawa Masaru turned to ask Akishin.
Akishin gave a small chuckle. "It's fine. This is your team, so decide it for yourselves."
He looked at Hachiman, then his mind drifted back to that handso guy from Daifuku Private Academy. With an aura like that, Hachiman likely wouldn't win.
But he didn't say it out loud; there was no point in crushing his confidence now. If they actually ended up facing them, he'd give a warning then.
"Since the lineup is settled, let's talk intel." Mizukawa Masaru placed his notebook on the floor, showing them the notes inside. "Our goal is the championship. These are the teams to watch out for. These two have won over the last three years—Furukawa High was the champion last year and the year before that... Then there's this guy, Kamiyama Osamu, last year's Fighting Spirit Award winner. He took down twelve people in a row. Ini High made it to the finals almost entirely on his back. His style is Shinkage-ryu; watch out for his weird swing angles..."
Mizukawa Masaru went into exhaustive detail about the powerhouse enemies they might encounter. He had prepared so much that he'd only gotten two hours of sleep the night before. Hikigaya and the guys listened intently, gradually joining in on the strategy discussion.
The eting lasted two hours. When they finally left, the participants were still deep in thought over the information.
There were plenty of strategies to handle those high-level threats. While raw strength was king, in a clash where the power gap wasn't that wide, strategy was often the deciding factor.
The night was deathly quiet. Kondo Soichi was already fast asleep, but Hachiman remained awake, staring up at the ceiling.
Akishin's voice drifted over. "What's up? Are you that nervous?"
Hachiman turned his head. In the dim light filtering through the window, he saw Akishin sitting up in the next bed, reaching for a bottle of mineral water on the nightstand.
Hachiman answered, "A little."
"Being nervous is normal. It ans you're stepping forward," Akishin said, checking the clock. It was 12:20 AM. "But when you're actually out there, you need to be in top form."
"I know."
"Do you? Rember what I told you before. The mont you beca my student, you started carrying my na with you. People will be watching, magnifying your every flaw. If you put on a poor showing tomorrow, you'll be mocked... is that why you're nervous?"
Hachiman stared at Akishin as the latter lay back down. After a long silence, he said, "Yeah, and no. I don't really care about what strangers think. But there's Yuigahama, Saika, and the others... plus, I'm representing the school. I'm just a bit afraid of failing right at the start..."
"aning you lack confidence?"
"...Sothing like that."
"Hah!" Snuggling into his comfortable blankets, Akishin closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "You lack confidence in the months of training you've done? That's like saying you have no confidence in . Even though you've only been at it for a few months, you've done more than most people do in years. Have you ever seen a normal kendo student train? Probably not, or maybe just a glimpse... Hikigaya, you should know that compared to mainstream thods, your training has been nothing short of brutal. It was built for combat. Have you ever seen a teacher who slams his student into the ground whenever he feels like it?
Hikigaya, have so faith in yourself. Not to prove anything to anyone else—you don't need to prove it for the school, or for Yuigahama and the others, or even for ...
The only thing you need to do is swing that shinai with everything you've got and show the results of these past months. The only person you have to prove anything to is yourself. A winner's mindset is a hard thing for a loser to grasp."
Once he finished speaking, the room fell back into silence, save for the rhythmic breathing of the sleeping Kondo Soichi. Soon, Akishin's breathing leveled out as well.
Hachiman stared at the ceiling for a while, a small smile playing on his lips. Then, he closed his eyes and drifted off.
...
The next morning, the boys' competition began.
The crowd squeezed into the bleachers as the first block of matches was called. Sobu High was up early.
Hearing the referee below announce the start of the tournant, Hachiman rose from his seat and gave a faint smile to the group. "I'm heading out. Wish luck." Without realizing it, he had started smiling a lot more lately.
"Hikki, do your best!"
Yui, sitting in the row behind Akishin, grabbed Yukino's hand and cheered loudly. "Yukinon and I will be rooting for you! And most importantly, stay safe!"
Yukino's face flushed slightly, her expression a bit awkward. eting Hachiman's gaze, she managed to say softly, "Safety first, the match second."
Haruno, sitting beside her, was grinning ear to ear.
Totsuka Saika and the others also shouted down from above:
"Hachiman, you can do it!"
"Hikigaya Hachiman, General Zaimokuza is here! Go forth into battle with a calm mind, and leave the rest to this General!"
"Go for it."
"..."
Akishin stood up and patted Hikigaya on the shoulder. "Give it your all. Swing your strongest sword. You aren't inferior to anyone here."
Faced with the wave of encouragent, Hachiman nodded solemnly. He walked down from the stands with Mizukawa Masaru and the rest. The girls' team mbers followed them; they were acting as the support staff to help them get into their kendo gear.
Soon, the matches officially comnced. Hachiman, wearing his black kendo uniform, stepped onto Arena Number 3. His tare displayed 'Sobu High' horizontally and 'Hikigaya' vertically.
Their first opponent was the team from Kyono High. While they weren't the reigning champions and didn't have any Fighting Spirit Award winners, they were a well-known powerhouse that had reached the final four the previous year.
Drawing a strong team right out of the gate ant Mizukawa Masaru's luck was as bad as ever.
Kyono's Senpyo stepped onto the floor. He was heavily built, standing half a head taller than Hachiman. Looking at the two of them, the audience imdiately lost most of their faith in Hachiman's chances.
The opposing Senpyo looked at Hachiman's tare and asked with a surprised look, "Sobu High, Hikigaya. Are you Chishima-sensei's student?"
"I am."
Hachiman took a deep breath, his grip tightening slowly around his shinai.
"A sha. I'm going to have to knock you out in your very first match. Even if you're his student, you've only been training for a few months. Don't feel too bad; there's always next year."
"We'll see about that after the match is over!"
"Masaki Itto-ryu, Tani Sanjuro."
"Sorry, I haven't received my teacher's permission to na our style yet."
Tani Sanjuro's tone wasn't exactly rude, but his words were condescending. Hachiman didn't care; as long as he won, those words would turn into a slap in the guy's own face.
On the referee's command, both of them bowed.
Then, they took their stances.
Hachiman's feet shifted slightly, raising his shinai. Tani Sanjuro raised his own in response.
As the referee signaled the start, Tani Sanjuro imdiately charged forward with a thunderous shout, bringing his sword down in a heavy overhead slash.
Hachiman watched the descending shinai, and his only thought was: Too slow!
Then, he moved. His shinai snapped up to parry Tani Sanjuro's strike, and in a fluid motion, the tip of his sword—the kensaki—struck Tani Sanjuro's wrist.
He let out a sharp, natural shout: "Kote!"
Having landed the blow, Hachiman retreated swiftly, maintaining his zanshin—his state of total awareness. His internal thought shifted to: His power is so light!
The referee was stunned for two full seconds before finally raising the flag to award Hachiman the point.
Tani Sanjuro hadn't even processed it yet, his face hidden behind his mask looking utterly bewildered. He'd been hit? Just like that?
Following the referee's call, both returned to the starting lines to go again.
This ti, Tani Sanjuro didn't rush in blindly. He took a defensive stance. He realized he had severely underestimated this kid.
That speed was so high he hadn't even had ti to react.
Since the opponent wouldn't close the distance, Hachiman did.
He lunged forward, swinging his sword down.
Clack!
Tani Sanjuro's eyes widened, his shinai nearly flying out of his hands. What on earth?
It wasn't just the speed; the sheer power was overwhelming!
What kind of monster is this?!
A flash of surprise crossed Hachiman's own mind. He rarely sparred with anyone else; and when he did, he was usually getting ganged up on by Mizukawa Masaru and the guys, so he hadn't noticed the difference.
As for Mizukawa Masaru and the others, they had grown so used to training together that they didn't find it strange and hadn't ntioned it in the eting last night.
But seeing Tani Sanjuro lose his composure, Hachiman imdiately saw his opening. He pressed his downward-swinging shinai further, sliding it against the opponent's blade before thrusting forward, striking Tani Sanjuro squarely in the throat protector.
With a cry of "Tsuki!", the match ended effortlessly.
Hachiman had held back his strength on the thrust; otherwise, there was a good chance Tani Sanjuro would have been knocked flat on his back.
As Tani Sanjuro walked off the arena, he felt like he was in a daze. Wasn't he supposed to be a beginner with only a few months of experience?
What a bunch of liars.
Hachiman had secured his first victory, and Yui and the others erupted into cheers.
Back in Chiba, Hikigaya's parents had taken two days off just to watch their son's matches at ho. Perhaps because they knew he was Akishin's student, the TV station specifically panned the cara toward Arena Number 3 for a mont. Seeing their son win his first match on national television, both of them were overjoyed.
...
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