On his day off, Kamiyā Yuu had planned to continue practicing kendo when he received a call from Busujima Murasaki, inviting him to a proper kendo hall for an official match.
"If Mr. Kamiyā doesn't mind, I'd like to have a more formal match with you. I happen to know someone at this kendo hall and have been fortunate enough to invite him to serve as the referee. The necessary equipment and gear have already been prepared."
"Sure. Give me the address."
After receiving the call, Kamiyā Yuu's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Originally, he had intended to use this day off to further familiarize himself with the feel of kendo. The more prepared he was, the more confident he was in victory.
His body had absolutely no foundation in kendo training.
Kendo was something that ideally needed to be cultivated from childhood, allowing the body to gradually adapt and integrate the proper techniques into every muscle through years of practice.
Someone like Kamiyā Yuu, who had started halfway through life, might possess the mind of a kendo master, but his muscles would quickly protest from using unfamiliar techniques.
It was much like an ordinary person suddenly running ten kilometers.
By the next day, they might not even be able to get out of bed.
Kamiyā Yuu did not immediately refuse Murasaki's request.
Holding the match on a rest day only moved it forward by one day.
Moreover, having a referee supervise the contest was actually ideal.
Formal kendo matches had numerous rules, and no matter what happened, things wouldn't escalate into a major incident.
As long as it remained a contest of pure technique, Kamiyā Yuu was confident he wouldn't lose to any kendo master in the world.
...
Yagyū Emon stared at Busujima Murasaki, who was kneeling quietly in a corner of the dojo while dressed in full kendo armor.
Her posture was impeccable.
Like a statue, she sat perfectly motionless.
The calm aura surrounding her seemed to isolate her from the noisy kendo students practicing throughout the hall.
Kendo was not an elegant sport.
At least, not in the conventional sense.
For one thing, kendo had a rule regarding vocalization.
Whenever a competitor attacked a particular target area, they were required to shout the name of that area so their opponent could recognize the attack.
Furthermore, many kendo matches were accompanied by ear-splitting screams that sounded like ducks being strangled.
To outsiders, the behavior looked ridiculous.
Yet it was an integral part of kendo.
The purpose was to increase one's momentum and intimidate the opponent.
During the dojo's free practice period, countless shrill cries echoed throughout the hall.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH! MEN!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! KOTE!"
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Calling them shouts was almost an insult to the word.
The students' screeches sounded like stones scraping against glass, making listeners' teeth ache and ears hurt.
Yagyū Emon sighed.
He glanced back at the disappointing students before turning to look once more at Busujima Murasaki, whose presence was as steady as a mountain.
The difference between a genius and ordinary people truly was immense.
The Yagyū Dojo practiced Yagyū Mumei-ryū Swordsmanship, one of Japan's most famous kendo schools.
According to legend, the dojo's lineage could be traced back to the renowned swordsman Yagyū Jūbei.
The dojo had existed for over a century and had won the national kendo championship ten consecutive years.
Although Yagyū Emon, the current head of the dojo, no longer competed, he was widely recognized as one of Japan's top three kendo masters.
Since inheriting the dojo in his thirties, he had never lost a kendo match.
There had only ever been one draw.
And the opponent in that match was the tall, elegant woman sitting before him now—
Busujima Murasaki.
At the time, she was around sixteen years old.
The Yagyū and Busujima families had shared a close relationship for generations.
About ten years earlier, while still in the prime of his life, Yagyū Emon had received a challenge from the Busujima family.
His opponent had been a girl who had not yet reached adulthood.
He had not underestimated the match because of her age.
On the contrary, after accepting, he spent half a month preparing himself.
He adjusted both body and mind until they reached their peak condition.
Yet the result of that match could hardly be called a draw.
If anything, it had been a one-sided victory for Busujima Murasaki.
By the end of the match, the only thing Yagyū Emon could read from her eyes was boredom.
Bored with the match.
Bored with him as an opponent.
The Busujima family possessed its own swordsmanship style.
Unlike Yagyū Mumei-ryū, Busujima swordsmanship focused far more heavily on practical lethality.
Whether direct descendants or branch-family members, children began undergoing strict combat-oriented training from a young age.
Protective gear was not allowed.
Being beaten black and blue by wooden swords was commonplace.
Broken bones were not uncommon either.
Yagyū Emon had also trained in kendo since childhood.
His training intensity had not been much lower than that of the Busujima family.
However, despite participating in many kendo matches, he had never truly understood real combat swordsmanship.
The reason that the match had ended in a draw was simply that Busujima Murasaki had been unable to follow the formal rules of kendo competition, resulting in a ruling against her.
Afterward, Murasaki occasionally visited the Yagyū Dojo to spar with him.
Over time, Yagyū Emon noticed that the terrifying sharpness she possessed gradually became more restrained.
Nowadays, no one would look at Busujima Murasaki and think she was dangerous.
This was proof that her strength was continuing to improve.
Yagyū Emon had learned many things from her.
It was because of her influence that he began integrating practical combat techniques into formal kendo competition.
As a result, his students who mastered this hybrid style achieved outstanding results in various tournaments.
Yagyū Emon was no longer in his physical prime.
He hadn't been Murasaki's match in the past, and he certainly wasn't now.
Yet a few days ago, Busujima Murasaki had suddenly visited him and invited him to act as referee for a kendo match.
The seriousness in her expression had shocked him even more.
Murasaki's swordsmanship had already reached unfathomable depths.
What kind of person could make her approach a match so seriously?
Even when she had fought him all those years ago, she had never displayed such solemn determination.
This meant that the opponent was someone whom Busujima Murasaki genuinely acknowledged as a formidable swordsman.
"Teacher, Miss Busujima is really going to have a kendo match with someone?"
One of Yagyū Emon's finest students, Hirai Ueto, crouched beside him and asked curiously.
Hirai Ueto had been the national youth kendo champion two years ago and was one of Yagyū Emon's longest-serving disciples, having studied under him for over a decade.
Although he didn't know much about Busujima Murasaki, whenever he occasionally participated in formal matches against her, he always felt overwhelming helplessness.
As a national youth champion, he knew full well that his level of swordsmanship wasn't even in the same realm as hers.
The more he learned, the more he admired Busujima Murasaki.
By now, he practically equated her with invincibility in the field of kendo.
He had heard rumors from other students that Busujima Murasaki had invited Yagyū Emon to referee a kendo match.
Over the past several days, Hirai had paid close attention to his teacher's movements.
The moment he saw Busujima Murasaki today, he knew the rumors were true.
Kneeling on the wooden floor with his eyes closed in meditation, Yagyū Emon did not scold his student for being nosy.
Opening his eyes, a trace of gravity appeared within them.
"Wait."