The following day.
Ryunosuke headed to the school's Taekwondo hall to begin his training with Hiratsuka.
Hiratsuka was already there, clad in a crisp white dobok with a black belt tied firmly around her waist—a testament to her formidable prowess. She was, after all, a 9th Dan black belt, the highest attainable rank.
Watching her sit cross-legged on the tatami mats, Ryunosuke swallowed hard.
(I'm not actually going to get beaten to death, am I?)
The thought gnawed at him. His opponent was a 9th Dan! How was a "small fry" like him supposed to pick a fight with someone of that caliber? His courage began to wither, and he instinctively turned to make a run for it.
He hadn't even taken three steps before the back of his collar was snagged by the hand of fate. It was Hiratsuka.
She shot him a mocking grin. "You've come all this way—where do you think you're going?!"
Ryunosuke's frame shuddered for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to regain his composure.
"I came here to study, not to get into a brawl!"
Hiratsuka let out a soft, dismissive snort. "I know, I know. Relax. Do I really look like the kind of person who just hits people for fun?"
She punctuated the sentence with a friendly pat on his shoulder. The force was so immense it produced a small thud. A sharp jolt of pain shot through Ryunosuke's arm, and he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yes. You look exactly like that kind of person."
"And could you stop hitting my shoulder? That actually hurt."
"Oh, oh! Sorry, my bad," Hiratsuka raised both hands in a mock gesture of surrender. It had been an accident, but she looked genuinely puzzled.
"I adjusted the strength of that pat to match your physical level. You shouldn't have felt any pain at all."
Hiratsuka was nothing if not confident in her control. If she weren't, there was no way the physically frail Hachiman from the original story could have survived her "Iron Fists" time and time again. She always tuned her strength to stay exactly at the limit of what her opponent could endure.
The problem was that Hiratsuka's "adjustment" was based on Ryunosuke's power while in Chuunibyou Mode (which meant a 545% multiplier). She scratched her head, genuinely baffled.
"That doesn't make sense. I shouldn't have miscalculated."
Ryunosuke shot back with a stinging retort. "A normal teacher doesn't pat their student's shoulder with 300 kilograms of force."
"One slip-up and my bones would have turned to powder. At best, I'd be looking at a fracture."
Hiratsuka went quiet, ducking her head like a scolded child. In that moment, the roles of teacher and student seemed completely reversed. She looked up, her curiosity piqued.
"Your physical durability isn't usually this low. What's going on?"
Through his scolding, Hiratsuka realized that his physical resilience had plummeted. The drop was so drastic it was visible to the naked eye. She hadn't noticed earlier because she assumed he was simply concealing his strength.
Ayanokouji was a prime example of that; he was a master at blending in as an ordinary person, suppressing his presence so thoroughly he was indistinguishable from the masses. Even an experienced veteran like Hiratsuka couldn't find a single crack in his facade. If Ayanokouji hadn't intercepted her "Iron Fist" so effortlessly the other day, she would have found it hard to believe he was a martial arts expert.
Ryunosuke didn't want to waste any more time on small talk; he needed her to teach him. After the clash with Yagami, he was painfully aware of his own limitations.
While Chuunibyou Mode allowed him to perform anime-tier feats—fighting techniques included—it all still functioned within the bounds of human biology. His strength increased by 545% from his base stats, giving him a punch force of roughly 436 kg. His legs, the pillars of his body and the result of the longest training, could exert three times that: 1,308 kg.
That was the absolute ceiling of his current explosive power. Yet, even those numbers weren't enough to best Yagami. He realized he needed to raise his base stats first. And Hiratsuka, the 9th Dan, was the perfect person to help him do it.
Furthermore, during the sports festival, he had promised Hiratsuka a match with Ayanokouji. Since Ayanokouji was currently nursing a hand injury, Ryunosuke had come alone. As for that match, he'd just have to consider it a debt for now.
Hiratsuka didn't push the issue. She waved a hand and gave him his first order.
"Alright then. Go fetch your senior disciple. We're starting the training!"
The "senior disciple" she was referring to was Ibuki Mio. Since Ryunosuke was just starting his tutelage now, he was officially the "junior." The realization hit him like a physical blow, and he buried his face in his hands.
She was going to laugh at him. He knew it. He'd put that girl through quite a bit of misery in the past, and there was no way Ibuki would miss a chance to rub his nose in this. But Ryunosuke had no choice; he resigned himself to his fate and headed toward Class 2-D to call her.
He was the one who needed the help, so he just had to swallow his pride.
◆━⊰✿✧✿⊱━◆
Ryunosuke arrived at the door of Class 2-D. After a moment of hesitation, he knocked and stepped inside.
Let's rewind the clock just a bit.
Inside the classroom, Ryuen had already heard the news of Housen's expulsion. He'd merely offered a cynical chuckle, not giving it a second thought. In his eyes, Housen was an irredeemable moron. Anyone with a brain wouldn't have pulled such an illogical stunt. To Ryuen, he was just a meathead who'd finally run out of luck.
The door swung open, and Ryunosuke walked in. Ryuen, who had been lounging with his feet up on his desk, immediately sat up. His eyes narrowed, flashing with both caution and mockery.
"The Tyrant King of Class C... what brings you to our humble Class D?"
Ryunosuke ignored the sarcasm and the provocative "Tyrant King" title. He had an urgent mission. He called out to the room:
"Is Ibuki Mio here? Hiratsuka-sensei is calling for you."
He pointedly avoided the term "Senior Disciple." His pride simply wouldn't allow it.
Mio didn't move. Instead, she propped her chin on her hand, a smug look spreading across her face.
"And what exactly are you supposed to call me, Junior~?"
The corner of Ryunosuke's mouth twitched, but he remained silent. The rest of the class, however, had heard every word. Hiyori tilted her head, looking genuinely confused.
"Since when did those two become senior and junior disciples?"
Ryuen sensing something entertaining was afoot, perked up. He usually didn't care for gossip, but if it involved Ryunosuke, he was all ears—mostly so he could use it as ammunition later.
Ibuki slumped onto her desk, suddenly playing the part of the frail maiden. She claimed she didn't have the energy to walk. Her message was clear: if she didn't hear the words "Senior Disciple," her legs were officially broken. You want her to move? Not a chance.