The first floor of the dojo.
Morikawa Yu stood watching the freshmen and club members going through their drills, still mulling over what had just happened.
He had tried to probe Hojo Maki for clues, but she had been watertight—offering him no openings at all.
If he pushed further, he would only make her suspicious.
Sighing, Yu gave up on trying to pry more out of her for now and instead picked up a shinai.
Since he was here anyway, he might as well train.
Even though he now possessed the strength of a true swordsman—a master touched by the power of the gale—fundamentals could never be practiced too much.
He set his stance and began practicing kata.
He had only swung a few times when he noticed the vice-captain approaching, carrying two sets of armor.
"Captain, do you have time to spar with me?"
"To spar?" Yu lowered his shinai.
"Sure. Do you want an official match or just an exchange of blows?"
It made no difference to him—kata or dueling were both forms of practice. He didn't mind crossing blades with her.
Her skill wasn't far below his own.
At least… that was before.
Now, he was far stronger.
"An official match," she answered.
"All right. But I'll warn you first—I'm not going to hold back."
Yu flicked the shinai in his hand with an easy confidence that made her frown.
"I don't want you to. Yesterday, you defeated that college guy, Kondo Kiyoshi, like it was nothing. I want to see how big the gap really is."
"Then let's find out," Yu nodded.
They suited up, bowed formally, and prepared to begin.
Across the dojo, the other members immediately noticed.
Their eyes lit up, training forgotten as they clustered closer to watch.
Yu and the vice-captain shot them a glare that sent the lazier ones scrambling back to their drills.
Even the first-years practicing suburi had to stifle their restlessness and return to their swings.
The two combatants drew apart, exchanged the kendo salutation—
And in the next instant, Yu let out a sharp kiai, his shinai slicing straight toward her men-guard.
"Here it comes, Emi!"
But unlike yesterday, he deliberately slowed his strike, letting her follow along.
She barely managed to parry, teeth clenched against the force of his blow.
Yu smirked slightly, pressing down hard. In the same movement, his shinai slid from her shoulder guard and traced cleanly to her throat.
"Cut!"
The vice-captain stiffened as he withdrew his weapon.
She had predicted his tactic—but she hadn't had time to react.
He had tried this kind of maneuver before, but she always managed to slip away at the last moment, turning his pressure against him and counterattacking before he could recover.
This time, his speed had been too sharp. All she could do was watch as his blade sealed her throat.
Had this been the battlefield, with live steel… she would already be dead.
She was left stunned, while Yu's mood lifted.
Winning in a single exchange meant he had truly advanced.
If she couldn't have parried this strike, then his old self couldn't have either.
He flicked his shinai in a half-arc, performing the blood-cleansing flourish before sliding it back into guard.
"Emi, it looks like you've slipped a little."
Her expression barely shifted—until his words landed. Then she scowled, lips curling.
"Hmph. I just let my guard down. Didn't dodge."
Yu chuckled.
The line reminded him of a certain meme from his past life.
"So what you're saying is… I wasn't being honorable?"
"I never said that!" she snapped, glaring.
"Don't get mad. I was just teasing. Come on, let's go again."
She huffed, nodding stiffly.
They reset their stances—when a sharp voice rang out from the stairs.
"Morikawa!"
Hojo Maki had appeared at some point, descending toward the dojo floor. She beckoned him with a hand.
Yu glanced at the vice-captain. She shook her head, lowering her shinai.
He returned his own weapon to his side and jogged toward Maki.
"Sensei, what is it?"
"Nothing urgent. I just want a word with you after practice. Stay behind for a while."
"I understand." Yu nodded.
She turned without another word, climbing back upstairs.
Yu watched her retreating figure, noting the heaviness in her steps.
She had something on her mind.
Could it be… the sword's cry?
But he doubted it. When he'd heard that clear, ringing note, she had already walked far ahead. There was no way she could have caught it.
Still, he'd know soon enough.
He returned to the vice-captain, scooping up his shinai.
She glanced toward the second floor, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"What did sensei want?"
"Oh, nothing much. She just said your kendo has regressed too much lately and she's thinking of stripping you of your vice-captain position."
"Ha?! No way!"
"She didn't even mention my name!"
"Oh? That big a reaction? Don't tell me you're actually worried about that?"
"Of course not!"
She puffed her cheeks, indignant.
Yu laughed softly—only to find her charging at him, shinai raised.
"Hey, hey, Emi!"
"I wasn't ready! You're the one with no honor!"
…
For half an hour, they sparred.
And for half an hour, she was crushed.
Once, they had fought nearly evenly. Now, she barely won a single bout. Each defeat piled heavier in her chest.
"Captain… why are you improving this fast?" she asked, breathless.
"Fast? Maybe I was just born gifted." Yu smiled lightly.
"Ugh, you narcissist." She rolled her eyes.
But inwardly, she knew the truth: she couldn't touch him anymore.
The thought gnawed at her.
Could he really be… a genius?
Maybe that was why Hojo Maki favored him so much.
"Just wait. One day, I'll surpass you."
"Sure, sure. I'll be waiting," Yu chuckled, strolling back to his seat.
Emi flipped her ponytail and returned to her own.
Time passed. Yu checked his watch—five-thirty.
Club activities ended at six. Many members had already filtered out, and soon the dojo was nearly empty.
Once the vice-captain also left, Yu waved the last stragglers away, locked the doors, and made his way upstairs.
Maki had asked to speak with him—and he, too, had questions for her.
But before he could climb the stairs, he saw her already descending.
She was clad in fitted kendo armor, a sword at her hip—the ancient blade she almost never unsheathed.
"Sensei…?"
Yu instinctively stepped aside, giving her room, unease prickling in his chest.
It had been a long time since he'd seen her arm herself.
And he had to admit… the sight was breathtaking.
Her skin pale as snow, her posture crisp and commanding, her waterfall of hair swaying with each step. She looked more striking than many heroines he had seen in anime.
And more than that—she practiced an ancient school of kenjutsu. Even if he ignored its practical strength, the aura it lent her was undeniable.