Ten minutes later, Chishima Akishin erged wearing his kendo uniform. He cradled his headgear, the n, under one arm, while his shinai was tucked securely into his waist. Following closely behind him was Hiratsuka Shizuka, her face tinged with a faint, lingering crimson.
Because matches inevitably led to a fair amount of sweat, and to make donning the heavy armor easier, there was a specific under-layer that resembled traditional martial arts attire. Shizuka found her eyes wandering back to Akishin's half-bare upper body, the image from monts ago still vivid.
Haruno turned her head to look at Akishin, then glanced at Shizuka. Once Shizuka reached her side, Haruno leaned in close to her ear and whispered sothing teasing.
Shizuka's face instantly deepened into an even darker shade of red. She looked around frantically and in confusion until her eyes landed on Akishin.
Under Akishin's bewildered gaze, she froze for a few seconds before snapping her head away. She puffed out her cheeks in a pout and gave Haruno's waist a sharp pinch.
Akishin could only offer a silent: "???"
What is going on now? Did I do sothing wrong again?
"Sensei, when is your match?" Hachiman asked, breaking the awkward atmosphere.
Akishin recalled the schedule he had glimpsed earlier—he hadn't looked at it very closely, but it didn't matter since there were dedicated staff mbers to provide reminders. "I should be in the first group to compete," he replied.
"Eh? That early? Why?" Hachiman's signature hair antenna twitched, a clear sign of his genuine confusion.
Akishin glanced at him and explained, "Because the Kendo Tournant uses a single-elimination bracket system. It's the simplest format, but also the most ruthless..."
A single-elimination system ant that any participant who lost a single match was imdiately out of the tournant. Every round effectively halved the number of participants until only the final champion remained.
In this format, the organizing committee usually arranges the participants based on their qualifying round rankings or their seeded positions. They also support arrangents where certain top-seeded players can enter the bracket at a later stage—essentially receiving a 'bye.'
This was done to prevent high-level players from knocking each other out too early, which could result in a massive power gap in later matches, potentially draining the tension and excitent from the event.
However, it was also cruel; those deed weaker would find themselves facing off against powerhouses the mont they stepped onto the mat. In the world of martial arts, the number one is revered while the number fees are ignored; essentially, besides the first-place winner, everyone else is just background noise.
In Kendo competitions, this reality was particularly stark.
As Akishin finished his explanation to Hachiman, he felt a slight pang of emotion himself; this was the true reason why one had to fight for that top spot!
Talent, effort, and ntality—you couldn't afford to lack even one.
And him?
He was using the help of a 'System' that wasn't even that great.
In fact, if he wasn't careful, this System's 'help' could actually get him killed. That was one of the reasons Akishin didn't dare to take things further. He didn't want to give up, so his only choice was to conquer it first before moving forward...
Feelings were rely...
A single part of life!
"Chishima-san is right. The knockout system is indeed cruel, but that's where the charm of Kendo lies. It's either a glorious victory or a disappointing defeat."
Tsuyoshi walked over. Having changed into his Kendo gear, he looked like a different person; there was a sudden impression that he had transford from a middle-aged uncle into a commanding General.
Is this what Zaimokuza ant by a 'Sword-Saint General'? Hachiman thought dubiously.
(Author's note: The following contains more nonsense and does not represent reality (.?ω?.)ノ?.)
The lights at the top of the indoor hall blazed brightly. Through a ticulously designed lighting sche with alternating beams, the center area was so illuminated that the audience could see every detail of the competitors' movents.
Five minutes later, a total of forty-five Kendo practitioners had taken their positions, lining up neatly in the arena to listen to the speeches from the officials at the front. These forty-five were the elites selected from the matches held over the previous few days. Today's event was scheduled to last for over two hours.
Speeches from the organizers, the sponsors, Tsuyoshi's speech as the representative of the participants, the declaration of the martial way, and so on—it was no less grand than a national tournant.
These formalities didn't last long, wrapping up in just over ten minutes.
Then, two special performance teams took to the floor for an exhibition match. Their movents were flashy and purely for show, but one had to admit they were quite pleasing to the eye.
Once the performance teams stepped down, two Kendo practitioners entered the arena, divided into the Red side and the White side.
The ones stepping up were Chishima Akishin and an unnad man. Their nas appeared on the large screen at the side of the arena—Hachiman's trio hadn't expected Akishin to be the very first to fight.
They turned toward Suzuki Tsuyoshi, who said with a smile, "It's because Chishima-san is the strongest."
The organizing committee this year had arranged the order based on power levels, a fact known to very few people.
Three referees holding red and white flags stepped onto the mat. Under the lead referee's command, Akishin and his opponent bowed to each other, then turned to bow to the audience. They stood at the starting lines, and both sides raised their shinai until the tips crossed.
The mont the referee gave the command to start, Akishin did not hesitate. He lunged forward, sweeping aside the opponent's shinai with incredible speed, before landing a clean, decisive strike right on the opponent's head protector.
Thack!
"n!"
The crisp sound echoed through the arena. The opponent hadn't had ti to react, the audience hadn't had ti to react, and even the referees were montarily stunned.
—Weren't they supposed to bait and test each other first?
It wasn't their fault; it was simply that Akishin's strike was too fast.
Tsuyoshi laughed loudly. "Chishima-san's strikes are as decisive as ever."
Hachiman glanced at Tsuyoshi, highly suspecting that the man had been hit like that before. A pri example was Hachiman himself; he had felt Akishin's unanticipated strikes many tis and had never once managed to parry them correctly.
The referee snapped back to his senses and firmly awarded the point (Ippon) to Akishin. Three red flags were raised high.
Akishin retreated to the starting line. His opponent was beginning to look tense, reflexively gripping his shinai tighter.
The referee gave the signal again. This ti, the opponent imdiately launched an attack. Akishin tilted his body to evade the wooden blade. While letting the opponent's shinai sweep past his arm, he landed another strike on the man's head.
With the second shout of "n," the match was over. Chishima Akishin secured his first victory with two straight points.
His opponent simply couldn't compare to Tsuyoshi. Firstly, in terms of speed, it was a matter of absolute dominance; like a hundred-ter dash, nine seconds and ten seconds existed on two entirely different planes.
Of course, if that sa opponent faced an ordinary Kendo practitioner, he would have been the one dominating; after all, he had been chosen from thousands of participants.
The two returned to the starting line, bowed again, and left the arena. Akishin's opponent looked utterly dejected, even with his face hidden behind the protector.
Akishin tucked his shinai into his waist and sat back down cross-legged between Hachiman and Suzuki Tsuyoshi.
"Sensei, congratulations."
"Chishima-sensei, you were amazing. Congratulations on your first win."
Hachiman and Haruno offered their praise. Shizuka nodded and gave Akishin a firm pat on the shoulder.
"Chishima-san, you fought excellently. Now, it's my turn to head out."
The next match was Suzuki Tsuyoshi's turn. His opponent was also a well-known figure. The hall suddenly beca incredibly lively; beyond the cheers of the crowd, the sound of cara shutters firing was like a Gatling gun.
The flashbulbs strobed continuously for over ten seconds until Suzuki Tsuyoshi began the match. His opponent was no weakling—he was a powerhouse. Looking at the na, it was Matsunari Masafumi; the spectacled old man who had once taught Hayama Hayato Kendo.
An expert of this caliber shouldn't have been placed in this order by the committee; rather, it was the opponent himself who had taken the initiative to request a match against Tsuyoshi.
Tsuyoshi and his opponent traded strikes and parries repeatedly. As the three-minute ti limit drew near, Tsuyoshi managed to secure two points with a narrow lead.
During Tsuyoshi's match, the only sounds in the hall were the clashing of shinai and occasional loud kiai shouts. Only the video caras kept rolling, as the photographers didn't dare let their shutters click for fear of distracting the two masters.
Both were famous figures in the Chiba Kendo world.
When it ended, the hall erupted in appreciative applause—those who ca to watch were mostly Kendo enthusiasts, so they understood exactly how dangerous the exchange between those two had been.
This was what you called a confrontation.
This was a real match.
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