While Tanaka-sensei was coming up with math problems, Kazuma, as usual, headed to the kendo club.
The moment he walked in, a third-year club member greeted him. "Yo, Todai boy. Here to quit the club?"
Kazuma studied the guy's face. Whether from his own memories or those inherited from the body's original owner, he couldn't recall this person's name.
If he didn't even know the guy's name, best to treat him as a background character. So Kazuma responded with the same smile he used when fending off street interviews near the dagashi shop. "Nope. I'm planning to compete in the national tournament and quit through the proper process after that."
The nationals took place over summer break, after which third-year members would retire from the club.
In Japanese youth dramas, there was a common trope called "the last summer of third year." This was where it came from.
In his past life, Kazuma hadn't understood this at first. When he watched anime and heard that phrase, he used to wonder, "That doesn't make sense. Are they talking about the summer before third year starts, or the summer after college entrance exams?"
Later he learned that in Japan, summer break was in the middle of the school year, so the phrase was perfectly logical.
Kazuma's casual reply didn't seem to deter the other guy, who leaned in and pressed further. "Retiring after nationals? Will you have enough time to prep for exams? With your current deviation score, you've got no shot at college without kendo."
Kazuma replied smoothly, "Looks like your intel's a little outdated. Just this morning, I made Takanashi-sensei cry with my flawless English."
"...What?" The guy blinked in surprise.
Kazuma shrugged. "It just happened. Since you got here early, you wouldn't have heard. I might look the same on the outside, but inside, I'm no longer the underachiever I used to be."
Which was, technically, true—he'd transmigrated, after all. The soul in this body wasn't the same anymore.
The nameless kendo club member opened his mouth to say more, but at that moment, Fujii Mikako bounded into the dojo. The moment she spotted Kazuma, she skipped over and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"You've really stirred things up today. You're the talk of the grade!"
"Even over in Class C, we heard the sound of Takanashi-sensei running out in tears."
Kazuma grinned. "What can I say? A late-blooming high school debut."
A "high school debut" referred to students who were nobodies in middle school but reinvented themselves in high school, like an ugly duckling turning into a swan.
"You're debuting a bit late though. High school's almost over," Mikako laughed as she unstrapped her bamboo sword. "Come on, help me warm up."
"Sure."
Kazuma and Mikako usually helped each other stretch before practice. The whole club was used to it by now—no one even teased them anymore. Normally, girls paired with girls, and boys with boys.
Just as they were about to start warming up, the nameless background character piped up again. "Fujii, he's aiming for Todai now. Shouldn't you stop wasting his time?"
Seriously, Kazuma thought. What's going on today? Are these stock side characters coming out of the woodwork one after another? Did beating up that yakuza boss trigger some kind of main character flag?
Frowning, he was about to respond, but Mikako spoke first.
"Watanabe, even if Kazuma quits, you won't be making the regular lineup. Second-year Takahashi is way stronger than you—Advisor Daimon would definitely pick him."
The guy—Watanabe—instantly went pale and had no comeback.
Kazuma could tell Watanabe knew perfectly well he couldn't beat Takahashi.
No wonder the original Kazuma hadn't even remembered this guy's name. If you can't even make the regulars by third year, why bother remembering you?
And this guy dares to throw shade at me? Nope, time to return the favor.
Patting Mikako's shoulder in mock seriousness, Kazuma said, "Mikako, support roles are important too. Once we ramp up training, we'll be relying on folks like him to wash our armor. You don't want to be doing that yourself, do you?"
Kazuma had come from an era where sarcastic jabs were an art form. No way a Showa-era kid could beat him at this game.
Clearly enjoying the banter, Mikako played along with an apologetic look. "Oh, you're right. I shouldn't have mocked a non-regular. Sorry, Watanabe!"
Kazuma chimed in, "Yeah, sorry, Watanabe! I'll be counting on you to take care of my gear!"
He watched with satisfaction as Watanabe's face turned red, scowling helplessly since he couldn't say a thing to them.
Mikako nudged Kazuma's side. "Alright, enough teasing. Let's get warmed up. After that, I still want you to show me a few moves."
"You want to learn Rishin-ryū now?" Kazuma asked.
"Yup. Not officially or anything—just show me a few techniques."
She suddenly rose onto her toes, leaned in close, and whispered in his ear. "You know, the moves you used yesterday to beat those yakuza."
"I mean... sure," Kazuma scratched his head. But those were all Shintō-ryū techniques... teaching them as Rishin-ryū feels a bit off.
Plus, when he'd fought Nishiyama Heita, it wasn't swordsmanship that had won the day—it was the environment.
Sure, mental state and willpower had given him a boost, but thanks to his unreliable cheat ability, Kazuma had no clue how much of that had actually translated into power.
And Nishiyama probably had a similar buff from his own willpower.
So really, the key factor had been the terrain.
Of course, he wasn't about to explain all that to Mikako. And now wasn't the time anyway—the other club members were starting to arrive, and he didn't want them overhearing anything about yesterday.
Mikako, misinterpreting his hesitation, pouted. "Come on, even just a quick demo! I want to make it to the girls' nationals this year."
"I didn't say no. I said sure, didn't I?"
"But you said 'I mean... sure,'—that clearly sounded like there was a catch!"
"No catch, no catch. Let's warm up. If we don't hurry, Daimon-sensei will start practice."
**
That day, Daimon Gorō arrived about twenty minutes later than usual.
Which meant Kazuma ended up demoing a few more Shintō-ryū techniques for Mikako than planned.
Weird... I can remember and perform all the Shintō-ryū moves Master Hasegawa taught me perfectly. Why hasn't my cheat counted these as sword skills?
But then again, this cheat is weird in a lot of ways. One more oddity doesn't matter.
While Kazuma was internally grumbling about his cheat, Mikako was carefully mimicking his movements.
"Like this... and then this? Am I doing it right?"
That "Am I doing it right?" almost made Kazuma think TikTok had somehow traveled back in time to Japan.
"Uh, mostly right. But during the kesa-giri, your hands were too high." He stepped closer to adjust her form. "Like this—angled this way..."
"This technique wouldn't be used in competitive kendo, would it?" Daimon-sensei's voice suddenly came from behind Kazuma, startling him.
He sprang away from Mikako like a loaded spring and bowed. "Good afternoon, sensei."
"Afternoon," Daimon replied. "What you were just teaching Mikako—that's a real-combat move, right? The kind used with live blades?"
Kazuma nodded. "Yes. It's not really applicable in bamboo sword matches."
"I thought so. These days, even Rishin-ryū mostly focuses on bamboo sword competitions. A lot of dojos don't even have real blades anymore. Where did you learn that?"
Because I trained in Shintō-ryū, obviously...
But Kazuma couldn't say that, so he improvised. "Anyone who practices kendo would naturally be curious about real sword techniques, right?"
"That makes sense," Daimon nodded.
Then his tone shifted. "By the way, I got a call just now from an old friend I haven't heard from in years. He told me something... interesting about you."
Daimon fixed Kazuma with a look.
"Now why would an old friend of mine, who's just a patrol chief over in Mitaka, suddenly bring you up, Kiryu-kun? Care to guess?"
No need to guess... word's probably already spread through the police by now.
Daimon probably already knew that Kiryu Kazuma had beaten up a yakuza boss.
"Sensei, I didn't really have a choice, it was—" Kazuma started to explain, but Daimon cut him off.
"Captain! Over here!"
At his call, the club captain jogged over. "You called, sensei?"
"Our official roster isn't submitted yet, right?"
"No, not yet. I checked with the ward office. They said we have until the first weekend after Golden Week."
"Good. Then switch the middle position to Takahashi."
In kendo team matches, there were five spots: vanguard, second, middle, sub-anchor, and anchor.
Kazuma had been slated for the middle match.
Now Daimon was pulling him.
"Wait, sensei, why?!" Before Kazuma could say anything, Mikako spoke up first. "Kazuma's really strong!"
Kazuma wanted to ask too. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Watanabe grinning smugly—and that smug grin seriously annoyed him.
But Daimon remained unfazed. He stared at Kazuma and said, "You've finished warming up, right? Then next—spar with me. If you can beat me, you'll be our anchor."
(End of Chapter)