Club Building.
Hasegawa Saori followed Yokoyama Miyu, placing one foot in front of the other as they made their way toward the kendo club room on the top floor.
Her hands—hands accustomed to swinging heavy swords through countless training sessions—trembled involuntarily.
When Yokoyama Miyu pulled open the door, Hasegawa Saori subconsciously stepped forward, moving half a pace ahead of her captain.
Her pure, searching eyes swept from the bottom left corner of the dojo to the bottom right. Face after face passed before her gaze—
But the figure she had kept locked in her heart was nowhere to be seen.
The anticipation that had been building inside her deflated instantly. A flicker of disappointment appeared in her clear, bright eyes.
She recalled what Hōjō Shione had said on the phone two days prior:
"If you go, you'll definitely see him..."
So he's not here?
Is he avoiding Saori...?
"Huh?"
Yokoyama Miyu looked at Saori curiously, noticing her downturned lips. "What's wrong, Saori? Are you hungry?"
Hasegawa Saori sniffled softly, lifted her gaze, and looked at Yokoyama Miyu with a pitiful expression. She held up two slender fingers.
"Saori's not in a good mood today. So two will be enough."
Hearing this, Yokoyama Miyu stared at her in surprise. "Only two? Is your mood really that bad? Fine, I'll get them for you later..."
"Mm."
Saori nodded, her high ponytail swaying gently behind her.
Then her gaze swept across the members of H University's kendo club once more. She puffed out her cheeks, furrowed her brow in thought for a moment, and asked softly:
"Club president... when we draw lots later, can I draw them?"
"You want to draw? Why the sudden interest?"
"Mm..."
The question seemed to stump her.
Hasegawa Saori frowned, scratched her temple, and racked her brain for a long while. Finally, she blinked, tugged on Yokoyama Miyu's sleeve, and asked:
"Can't Saori draw them?"
The girl's eyes held an unmistakable innocence—especially that pitiful, wronged expression. It made refusing her feel almost cruel.
Besides, drawing lots was mostly a formality. It wasn't a big deal. Yokoyama Miyu's heart softened, and she nodded in agreement.
"Fine. You can draw them later."
Hearing this, Hasegawa Saori's eyes immediately sparkled. A bright, clear smile broke across her face. She extended her slender, fair fingers toward Yokoyama Miyu and announced:
"Club president, I'm in a good mood now. I want five rice balls later."
"..."
Yokoyama Miyu pressed her lips together, suddenly regretting her promise. Her gaze swept over Saori's stomach.
"No. Three at most."
"Oh."
—
After hearing what Yokoyama Miyu had to say, Fujiyama Takeo couldn't help but stare curiously at the girl hunched over the desk—writing lottery slips while munching on a rice ball.
"You mean... she's also participating in the men's exhibition match later?"
He couldn't help but scrutinize Hasegawa Saori. She was taller than most girls—head and shoulders above, easily over 1.7 meters.
But in kendo, girls were ultimately at a disadvantage.
Whether it was the usual training volume or the inherent physical differences in strength and speed—there was a considerable gap between girls and boys. Having a girl compete against a boy in kendo felt genuinely unfair. It went against the spirit of the art.
"Mm."
Yokoyama Miyu nodded, seeming to guess what Fujiyama Takeo was thinking. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him with a hint of confusion.
"Fujiyama, do you remember me mentioning that we had a genius join our club this year?"
"Ah? I remember."
Fujiyama Takeo was startled, then caught on. He looked back at the girl on the floor and let out a thoughtful "Oh."
"You mean her? The one who participated in the IH Competition in her first year of high school and won the girls' division?"
"Mmm-hmm..."
Yokoyama Miyu hummed proudly, then nodded, continuing along Fujiyama Takeo's line of thought. "It's Hasegawa Saori. She participated in the IH Competition with us that year and won as a first-year by defeating stronger opponents... She was even in the newspapers. Don't you remember?"
Fujiyama Takeo scratched his head and stared at Hasegawa Saori for a few more seconds. Then he argued with a troubled tone:
"It's been three or four years since her second year of high school. Unless you've been secretly in love with her, you wouldn't remember what she looks like. People's appearances change, you know..." He paused. "And I haven't heard of her participating in any competitions since then."
He looked at Yokoyama Miyu for confirmation. "She hasn't competed at all, right?"
Hearing this, Yokoyama Miyu pursed her lips and nodded. "Mm... I don't know why, either."
The question had puzzled her throughout her entire high school years.
If Hasegawa Saori had wanted to, she would have easily earned a spot in the IH Competition the following year. But after that first victory, she was never seen in national competitions again. She didn't seem to participate in tournaments like the Gyokuryū Flag, either.
She had privately asked Saori why she stopped competing. The answer had always been silence.
Presumably, Saori had some unspoken difficulties. Yokoyama Miyu hadn't pressed further.
"So it was a flash in the pan, then," Fujiyama Takeo couldn't help but sigh.
Hearing that, Yokoyama Miyu's brow furrowed unconsciously. She corrected him:
"It's not a flash in the pan. Saori will participate in this year's kendo competition..."
Not wanting to dwell on the issue for too long, she continued. "Anyway, there's no need to worry about her skill. If she hadn't specifically requested it, she wouldn't even be allowed to participate in this kind of exhibition match."
Fujiyama Takeo understood what she meant.
The kendo club was divided into two groups.
One group joined out of genuine interest—hoping to experience the spirit of kendo.
The other group joined with the goal of participating in competitive matches. These were the reserve team members, who usually received instruction from a professional coach. Their training volume far exceeded that of regular members.
The exhibition match was like an opening ceremony for a sports festival. The drawing of lots included all club members and was treated as a club activity.
On one hand, it helped meet the school's activity quotas without spending extra money. On the other hand, it gave ordinary club members a sense of participation—rather than leaving them as mere spectators on the sidelines.
If Saori was really that strong, having her give basic kendo instruction to ordinary members was indeed a waste of her talent.
Seeing that Yokoyama Miyu had already made her point, Fujiyama Takeo could only nod.
"Alright. Actually, I was just worried that everyone would underestimate her because she's a girl and lose their mental balance."
"Underestimate her? Lose balance?"
Yokoyama Miyu was startled. She pondered his words for a moment, then reacted.
"If they have thoughts like that... shouldn't they first ask themselves why a girl can be their opponent? Maintain a humble heart. Show enough respect for your opponent. Then give it your all."
"You're right, but—"
Fujiyama Takeo wanted to say more—but then he saw the person standing at the table collecting the lottery slips raise a hand to signal that everything was ready.
So he stood up and went to prepare for the drawing.
To prevent cheating or pre-determining the results, representatives drew from each other's pools.
Hasegawa Saori stood in front of the lottery pool, her eyes fixed on the slip of paper Fujiyama Takeo drew.
When she saw her own name written on the slip he pulled, her eyes sparkled.
Then, with a subtle flick of her sleeve, she palmed a crumpled piece of paper she had hidden there. She reached into the lottery box, pretended to draw it, and pulled it out.
Her fingers eagerly unfolded the paper, revealing the name:
"Shiratori Seiya."
Fujiyama Takeo blinked, not noticing anything wrong at first.
But after a while, he called Shiratori Seiya's name several times.
No response.
He searched the room. Nothing.
Shiratori Seiya wasn't even present.
Fujiyama Takeo stiffened, then looked at the vice-president beside him.
"Tazawa, where is Shiratori Seiya?"
Tazawa was equally caught off guard. He scratched his head. "Huh? I don't know."
"..."
After a moment of silence, Fujiyama Takeo thought for a bit, then turned to Yokoyama Miyu with an awkward smile.
"Um... it seems he's not here. Did I write the wrong name?"
Yokoyama Miyu didn't see any problem either. She nodded. "Then let's draw again."
She looked at Hasegawa Saori. "Saori, draw again."
"Oh."
Hearing this, Hasegawa Saori responded blankly.
She reached into the box again. With a subtle flick of her sleeve, she palmed another pre-prepared slip of paper. Then, using the same trick, she unfolded it for everyone to see.
"Shiratori Seiya."
Seeing that name again, Fujiyama Takeo was stunned, completely unprepared for this situation.
What did this mean? Had someone written Shiratori Seiya's name twice when they were asked to prepare the slips just now?
Was there a mistake?
He was about to ask when he suddenly heard a girl's voice beside him:
"Can't you find him?"
She tilted her head innocently. "But... I clearly saw him come just now..."
Fujiyama Takeo's gaze fell on her face. Seeing the girl's innocent expression, he unconsciously dismissed the possibility of her "lying."
Still, he was puzzled. He couldn't help but ask:
"Do you know Shiratori Seiya?"
"Yes, I do."
The girl nodded sweetly. Then her clear eyes flickered twice as she asked:
"Is he afraid of me?"
Her voice carried a note of genuine curiosity. "You're a bit timid if you're even afraid of girls."
Hasegawa Saori stood on the stage, her voice carrying clearly—loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.
The surroundings suddenly fell silent.
Yokoyama Miyu reacted immediately. Hearing words dripping with such obvious animosity, she quickly stepped forward and pulled Saori's sleeve.
"Saori, don't talk nonsense."
"Saori isn't talking nonsense."
The girl's face suddenly twisted into a wronged expression. "Isn't running away without a fight being timid? Otherwise, I'll just fight a few more times. If it's a round-robin, you won't be afraid anymore, right?"
She paused thoughtfully. "If you're still afraid even then... you completely lack the spirit of kendo. Mmph—"
"Saori!"
Yokoyama Miyu was startled. She had never imagined such words coming from Saori's mouth. She quickly reached up and covered her mouth.
But the words had already spread.
The surroundings erupted in an uproar.
This was tantamount to a blatant insult. Someone immediately stood up and declared:
"Shiratori-kun really didn't come today. I haven't seen him at all. I'll fight for him."
Hasegawa Saori glanced at him, then pried Yokoyama Miyu's hand off her mouth and asked:
"If you lose... will he come?"
"?"
Ryunosuke Nagano was taken aback. He had been completely unprepared for such a response. Seeing that the person challenging him was a girl, his face immediately darkened.
"If I lose... he will come."
"Really?"
Hasegawa Saori's lips curved slightly upward. A suspicious look flashed in her clear eyes.
"You won't go back on your word this time, will you? That would also go against—"
Before the four words "the spirit of kendo" could leave her lips, Yokoyama Miyu—standing right beside her—quickly pulled a rice ball from her pocket and stuffed it into her mouth.
Then she reached out and pinched Saori's waist hard, glaring at her fiercely.
We're here for kendo guidance, not to make enemies and challenge dojos!
"Mmph..."
With the rice ball in her mouth, Hasegawa Saori was completely unable to speak. She chewed thoughtfully, then looked at Fujiyama Takeo, her eyes asking a silent question.
Fujiyama Takeo's brows had already furrowed tightly.
Although he was friends with Yokoyama Miyu, being spoken to like that in front of everyone had left him quite displeased. He nodded directly.
"If you can win against Nagano, I will definitely call Shiratori over for you—even if I have to take a taxi to his house and tie him up myself."
Hearing Fujiyama Takeo say this, Hasegawa Saori's heart swelled with joy. Unable to swallow properly, she mumbled with her mouth full:
"It's a deal!"
Fujiyama Takeo nodded in agreement.
He still didn't actually believe Hasegawa Saori could be that formidable.
Kendo competitions were divided into men's and women's divisions for a reason. The gender gap was significant.
He believed this wasn't prejudice against girls. It was simply a fact.
Moreover, Hasegawa Saori didn't seem particularly intelligent. Her words were full of animosity—calling her "foolish" wouldn't be an exaggeration.
Yes, she had won the IH Competition in high school. But she hadn't participated in any competitions since then. Regardless of the reason, not competing for so many years would inevitably lead to a decline in skill.
Ryunosuke Nagano's skill level was above average in the club. He had participated in various competitions from his first to third year of high school.
Fujiyama Takeo considered him to be on par with Shiratori Seiya. After the latter refused to participate in this year's national competition, he had immediately decided on Ryunosuke Nagano's spot.
Hasegawa Saori had three losses. Ryunosuke Nagano had three wins.
The probability of her losing was not high.
With his mind made up, he nodded toward Yokoyama Miyu.
—
In the changing room, Yokoyama Miyu frowned as she fastened Saori's protective gear.
"Saori, what exactly are you trying to do?"
"Uh..."
Hasegawa Saori was now like someone who had taken a vow of silence, keeping her mouth tightly shut. Her face wore an innocent expression that screamed, "It's not my business. I don't know anything."
"You know that Shiratori person?"
"..."
"What's your relationship with him?"
"..."
"Do you have a grudge against him?"
Yokoyama Miyu stared at the girl's face and suddenly noticed her guiltily averting her gaze. She immediately sensed something was up.
"You knew him in high school?"
"You absolutely have to see him today, don't you?"
The girl's gaze became even more shifty.
Yokoyama Miyu had never seen her with such an expression—as if she was deliberately hiding something. She asked tentatively:
"You don't... like him, do you?"
As if a keyword had been triggered, Hasegawa Saori's hand trembled involuntarily.
Yokoyama Miyu noticed immediately. Her hands, which had been fastening the protective gear, stopped moving. Her eyes widened with surprise as she confirmed:
"You really like him?"
The girl lightly bit her lip. A blush spread across her fair, pretty face.
A miracle happened.
The phrase popped into Yokoyama Miyu's mind. She instantly understood—but she was also curious about what kind of person Shiratori Seiya was.
She knew how innocent Hasegawa Saori was. She had never seen Saori discuss matters of emotion. Every day, she only knew how to practice kendo, practice kendo, practice kendo.
If it weren't for her persistent pursuit of delicious food, Yokoyama Miyu would have almost thought this child was a heartless kendo machine.
Then she suddenly thought of something.
"So... you tampered with the drawing just now, didn't you?"
"..."
Hasegawa Saori guiltily turned her head away, looking exactly like a child caught doing something wrong. Yokoyama Miyu understood everything.
She reached out and pinched the girl's fingertips, her voice carrying a note of disappointment.
"After you see this Shiratori Seiya... you're coming with me to apologize to Fujiyama."
"Okay."
This time, Hasegawa Saori didn't play dumb. She lowered her head and responded.
She had been a little naughty just now.
She had done something bad...
It's all Seiya's fault...
Yokoyama Miyu never doubted that Saori would lose to that Nagano. Having been with her for almost a year, she knew exactly how terrifying the girl in front of her was.
She could naturally sense Fujiyama Takeo's prejudice.
No amount of words would help. Strength was the best explanation.
And that was exactly what happened.
After putting on her protective gear, Hasegawa Saori stood in the dojo, bamboo sword in hand.
When she saw Fujiyama Takeo—acting as referee—wave his hand down, she rushed out like lightning.
Still as a virgin, swift as a fleeing hare.
Ryunosuke Nagano reacted and quickly raised his bamboo sword to block—
But the next second, he felt his wrist go numb from the impact.
He tried to counter-attack, but the opponent's next strike had already followed up.
Clang, clang, clang!!
The girl's sword became a blur in the air, slashing relentlessly at Ryunosuke Nagano's face.
The crackle, crackle, crackle sounds almost merged into one continuous noise. Every strike was powerful and heavy. In just a moment, Ryunosuke Nagano could no longer sustain his defense—the bamboo sword in his hand was nearly knocked away.
Then, the next moment, Hasegawa Saori's bamboo sword suddenly moved like a nimble snake. A gentle flick to the side, and the opponent's sword was instantly swept aside.
She raised her bamboo sword again.
"Men!"
—