That night, Kiryu Kazuma slept soundly—so soundly, in fact, that he ended up dreaming about the night he'd saved Ikeda Shigeru.
When he woke up the next morning, a bold new thought popped into his head:
Did my pep talk actually change Ikeda's buff? If so… does that mean I've got some serious buffing ability? Could Nanjo-san's "Sea Swallow" status tag have appeared because she was watching me "enlighten" Ikeda?
Am I really that awesome?
So I'm actually a bard? A party buffer? And all this time I thought my combat skills were the main thing!
That reminded him of an old meme he'd seen in his previous life—a photo from some street fighting scene in the Middle East or somewhere, with a guy strumming a guitar amid the chaos to "buff" his allies.
So... I'm that guy with the guitar, huh?
If I quit kendo now and started learning to play an instrument, would I still have time?
After giving it some serious thought, Kazuma concluded that... no, probably not—not with the Kanto Union breathing down his neck.
Maybe after I get into Todai. Then I can pick up guitar or maybe shamisen, and use it to buff my disciples when they go off to fight.
Right now, the only instrument he could play was a marching drum—something he'd learned as a kid back in elementary school's drum corps.
And he only knew one beat.
Wait a second... if I played that beat on a marching drum now, maybe I'd trigger some epic "Iron Horse and Frozen River" level buff effect?
Kazuma decided on the spot—he'd ask the class rep later if he could borrow a drum from the school's brass band. No, wait... they were the wind ensemble now, weren't they?
Come to think of it, the class rep's band club should be resuming their regular activities today. I've never actually seen her play tuba in person…
With his new plan for the day set, Kazuma jumped out of bed, got dressed in record time, and headed straight to the kitchen.
As always, he downed the cold mugicha Chiyoko had prepared for him.
The icy drink jolted him fully awake, shaking off the last traces of sleep.
He was just about to go brush his teeth when another idea struck him—why not test if he really did have a buffing ability?
Turning to Chiyoko, he opened his mouth to say something motivational—but then immediately realized… he had no idea what to say.
When he'd talked to Ikeda, it had been spontaneous—driven by genuine emotion and conviction. The words had just flowed naturally.
But now? He felt no particular emotion… so no words were coming.
Forcing it, he resorted to one of the most stirring speeches he could recall:
"Chiyoko, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills… and by the grace of God, we shall purge the enemy's shadow from this earth and free her people from their chains! We shall never surrender!"
Chiyoko blinked at him like he'd gone crazy. "Bro, are you feeling alright?"
Guess Churchill's speech didn't work...
Undeterred, Kazuma switched to another famous Allied leader:
"Our entire nation will remember the nature of this attack on us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome..."
"What are you doing?" Chiyoko cut him off. "That was Churchill's speech, right? The famous one? Why are you suddenly spouting that stuff first thing in the morning?"
I was trying to see if I could buff you, okay?
Kazuma swallowed the words and said instead, "Just reviewing history points for the exam."
"For Todai entrance exams?"
"Yup, totally on the test," Kazuma replied breezily as he retreated into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Looks like I can't just force buffs out of thin air...
Emotion, conviction, determination—those must be the key factors.
He finished washing up at top speed, then stared at himself in the mirror.
In this world, those who truly loved life and held fast to their beliefs were the strongest.
Looking into his own eyes, Kazuma whispered to himself:
So I've got to love life more than anyone, stay true to my beliefs, and live more purely than anyone else.
Feeling fired up, he hung up the towel and headed to breakfast.
Twenty minutes later, the Kiryu siblings were ready and heading out the door right on time.
As usual, the class rep was standing by the gate, immersed in her vocabulary flashcards.
Hearing the door open, she looked up.
"Good morning, Kazuma-kun. Did you sleep well?"
"Very well." Kazuma paused, then figured he'd try buffing her too. He recited:
"In the heavy May rains, two homes stand by the great river."
It was a famous haiku by Yosa Buson. The "May rains" referred to in the first line—satsuki-ame—was a classic kigo, or seasonal reference, which Japanese haiku always used to anchor the time of year.
Since it was now May and Japan was entering the rainy season, it was thematically appropriate.
If questioned, he could easily say it was a spontaneous thought—or even tie it to his Japanese literature review.
But to his surprise, as soon as he spoke the first line, the class rep's eyebrows twitched slightly, and her expression grew momentarily serious.
Only for an instant, though—she immediately returned to her usual composed self.
Kazuma finished the haiku and quickly asked, "Your face changed just now—why?"
"Well, wouldn't anyone react a bit if someone suddenly started reciting haiku at them?"
She parried smoothly.
Kazuma thought about it—fair enough—but still, something about her reply felt evasive.
Without addressing his expression, the class rep pulled out a new notebook and handed it to him.
"Here. This is the new study notebook we talked about. Make sure you memorize everything inside."
"Yes, Tamago-chan." Kazuma didn't hesitate to use her nickname.
She seemed completely used to it by now, calmly closing her schoolbag and picking her vocabulary book back up—clearly planning to review as they walked.
"Let's go. I've got brass band practice this morning."
"You guys do morning practice too?"
"Of course. We're aiming for the district preliminaries—and the nationals."
"Oh, right!" Kazuma smacked his forehead.
Japanese high schools really did have incredibly rich club activities. And many of them led to national-level competitions. He'd always admired that about Japan.
Back in his past life, Slam Dunk had been at its peak popularity during his high school years—he remembered the Cantonese title was Men Must Soar to the Hoop—and every boy had their own basketball. The sports shops near school had even run out of stock.
During inter-class tournaments, everyone would chant things like "conquer the nation!" and sing silly songs like "Four Jin of Soybeans, Three Belts."
And now, as a transmigrator, I finally get to aim for national glory myself. Honestly, I'm kinda hyped.
Especially now that his kendo skills were boosted.
Even if his team underperformed in group matches, he could always go full musou in the individual rounds.
Walking alongside the class rep, Kazuma felt the morning sun shine warmly on his face.
The fresh scent of dew-kissed earth filled the air.
He had a good feeling about this May.
It seemed like it just might be a peaceful, uneventful month.
(End of Chapter)