Even with the system at his side, even with his kendo skills improving at an astonishing pace, Morikawa Yu still found himself curious.
Curious about how his windborne swordsmanship compared to the ancient style that Hojo Maki had mastered.
And, of course, he wanted to ask her about the blade's cry.
Hojo Maki caught his look but betrayed no expression. Without a word, she strode to the center of the dojo and sat down cross-legged.
"Morikawa. Sit."
"Yes, Sensei."
Yu walked forward, his steps steady.
Maki's gaze swept over him slowly—from head to toe—before settling on his eyes.
The intensity of her stare made Yu shift slightly. Still, he straightened his back, facing forward without flinching.
The air grew heavy, almost oppressive.
"Morikawa," she said at last, her voice calm but cutting, "your kendo seems to have advanced very quickly these past weeks."
Yu's heart skipped.
He had expected a question, but not this.
Yet it was enough to jolt him to his senses.
He had been basking in the progress the system granted him, forgetting that Hojo Maki was his kendo teacher. She knew his foundations inside and out.
Any sudden leap in skill would never escape her notice.
"My progress…?" Yu offered a faint smile, bowing slightly. "Perhaps it's because I've begun to understand your teachings more deeply, Sensei."
He kept his tone calm, composed. If possible, he wanted to smooth this over.
She had treated him well these past two years. He didn't want to ruin that.
"Deeper understanding, is it?" Maki's eyes sharpened instantly.
"But Morikawa—I don't recall ever teaching you iai of that level."
Her words cut into him like the drawing of a blade.
"And yesterday's match," she continued, "don't you think you owe me an explanation?"
"I know Kondo's strength. He isn't the strongest, but he's no weakling either. Yet he couldn't withstand even a single strike from you."
"And today as well. You sparred with Sakurai Emi for half an hour. She only managed to win a handful of exchanges."
Her gaze narrowed. "And if I'm not mistaken, even those were because you deliberately held back."
Her words left no room for evasion. "So, Morikawa. How did you do it?"
"I didn't do anything, Sensei."
Her tone was almost accusatory, but Yu remained unshaken.
Every question she fired at him made it clear: he couldn't hide this much longer. Yet panic would do him no good.
He had been a police officer, once. Before taking that badge, the first lesson drilled into him was composure. Calm under pressure.
And composure had been his greatest strength.
Two years of quiet student life hadn't dulled that instinct.
Panic never solved anything. Panic only got you killed faster when staring down dangerous criminals.
And right now, Hojo Maki wasn't hostile. That alone meant he couldn't afford to lose his cool.
"Sensei," Yu said evenly, "instead of pressing me, shouldn't we first ask what it is you're suspicious of?"
"Advancement in swordsmanship, defeating Kondo and Emi—none of that seems particularly strange, does it?"
Maki ignored his attempt at deflection, her gaze fixed deeply on him.
She searched for cracks in his composure, but he sat there calmly, cross-legged in front of her. His eyes met hers without wavering.
The same steadiness, the same unshaken brightness, that he'd shown the day he first walked into her dojo.
Firm. Open. Honest.
"…If that were truly all, then yes, there would be nothing strange about it."
Finally, she exhaled softly, shaking her head. Her suspicion shifted, her voice lowering.
"But Morikawa… I fear you've been touched by something unclean."
"…Eh? Sensei, what makes you say that?"
Yu blinked.
The direction of this conversation had taken a sharp turn.
From suspicion of his swordsmanship… to talk of unclean spirits?
If anything, shouldn't she be wondering if he'd been possessed by something? That would make more sense than this.
There was no way she could guess the truth about his Swordmaster System.
"It's because of Tsurumaru," she said quietly.
She unfastened the ancient blade at her waist and set it before him.
"You may not believe this. But it is a sacred relic, once enshrined. Whenever it encounters something tainted or otherworldly, it reacts."
Yu's expression flickered.
So that was it.
This was why she'd come to confront him.
Yesterday, when he'd held the blade in his hands, it had cried out.
Whether she had heard it herself or the sword had responded more than once, it didn't matter—the result was the same.
She believed he was haunted.
So, in the end, the question he had wanted to ask her… was the very same question she wanted to ask him.
"…Sensei, don't you think what we're discussing is a little strange?" Yu scratched his cheek with a wry smile.
"A sword that warns of evil spirits—that sounds… unscientific, doesn't it?"
Even as he spoke, his mind flashed back to last night, when he'd sliced through stone with a bamboo practice sword like it was tofu.
That was far less scientific.
"Morikawa, I know it's hard to believe," Maki said, her expression grave.
"But the truth is, this world does hold things that defy science."
She hesitated, a shadow passing through her eyes. "…If not for certain matters within my family, I might never have believed it myself. But that's not important right now. What matters is Tsurumaru."
"When I asked you to help enshrine it before, it remained still. But yesterday—it drew itself, unbidden."
Her fingers brushed the hilt lightly.
"The man who entrusted it to my family once said this: if the day ever comes when it draws itself and cries out, it means one of two things. Either it has recognized a true swordmaster… or it has sensed a vicious yokai."
Her gaze hardened again. "I fear the latter, Morikawa. That you've been entangled by a yokai, though not fully possessed. That's why you can still live normally."
"Sensei, do you really have to settle on the yokai explanation?" Yu muttered, almost exasperated.
"I could just be the swordmaster it recognized. Isn't that an option?"
"Don't joke about such things." Maki's tone snapped taut, her expression stern.
"Yes, you defeated Kondo and Emi. But that alone doesn't prove anything. I could do the same."
Her eyes narrowed. "Does that make me a swordmaster as well?"
"…I understand, Sensei."
Yu sighed, forcing down the urge to argue.
Of course she wouldn't accept it so easily. In her eyes, a swordmaster wasn't someone who simply won duels.
She didn't know about his ability to ride the wind, or slice through rock with a bamboo blade, or the secrets of sword intent.
And she didn't need to.
For two years, she had looked after him. He wasn't going to fight her over words.
Maki, too, let the subject rest. Her shoulders eased slightly, though her eyes still clouded with concern.
"Morikawa, what matters most now is helping you shake free of the yokai clinging to you."
"…But I don't know the first thing about yokai," Yu admitted, pressing his temple.
This was a headache.
The sword had sung because he'd become a swordmaster—yet she was convinced it was yokai.
What was he supposed to do, drag some monster out of thin air and pin the blame on it?
"Don't worry. If it's hiding well, that just means it's clever. But there are ways to draw it out."
Maki raised a finger.
"We'll go somewhere that can reveal it."
Yu arched a brow. "…Where?"
"Asada Shrine."