It has been three days since the sparring match between Kanao and Jinichi.
True to her nature as a sorcerer, Kanao shook off her collapsed nose and the memory of passing out. By the very next day, she was already up and running around the training hall as if nothing had happened.
Perhaps as a side effect of that duel, the judgmental whispers and cold stares from the Zenin clan members—who had previously dismissed Kanao as a mere freeloader—had noticeably diminished.
As a bonus, the clan's servants began treating Kanao with the utmost respect now that she had proven her martial prowess. Watching her adapt to life in the estate without any major discomfort made me feel relieved deep down.
It was around then that news arrived that Head Naobito and the other high-ranking Zenin fossils had returned to the main gate, presumably after finishing their meeting with the Higher-ups.
'Phew, that's a relief.'
They must have been quite exhausted from their political tug-of-war with the Higher-ups. Instead of immediately summoning me to start a fight or play politics, everyone seemed to be quietly retreating to their rooms to recover from the fatigue of travel.
Still, to get a sense of what those old fogies were plotting, I killed my footsteps and crept toward the corridor where the rooms of the high-and-mighty—like Naobito and Ougi—were concentrated.
"Tee-hee-hee!"
It was then. From the corridor of the main building, which should have been silent, came the sound of light, hurried footsteps and innocent children's laughter.
'...Wait, what? Why are they here right now?!'
Trotting down the hallway were none other than the Zenin sisters, Maki and Mai.
Usually, these children were treated like invisible people, never hearing a kind word within the clan. They were supposed to live tucked away in the most remote corner room of the estate.
Yet, here they were, laughing and playing right next to Ougi's personal quarters.
Horrified, I dashed forward and quickly snatched the small hands of the two children.
"Oh! It's Hachiro-oppa!"
"Oppa, we haven't seen you all day!"
"Ah, well, Oppa was a bit busy... No, that's not what's important! Why are you guys coming out of there?!"
"This is the hallway in front of the old geezers' rooms. You'll get in huge trouble for running around here. You have to be careful!"
At my urgent scolding, Maki and Mai grinned and scratched their heads sheepishly.
"Ehehe, we just ended up here while playing."
"Oppa, a present!"
Mai reached out with her cute little hand and dropped something onto my palm. It was a thick, black hair tie.
Wait a minute. These kids' hair isn't nearly long enough to need something this thick... Don't tell me... it couldn't be, right?
A chill ran down my spine, but I forced myself to ignore it. I hurriedly shoved the hair tie into my pocket and ushered the children away, pushing them toward their own room.
Fortunately, the two of them held hands and trotted back to their corner room without incident.
Once they were gone, I cautiously opened the sliding door to Ougi's room.
And my ominous intuition proved to be spot-on, without a hair's breadth of error.
"..."
Zenin Ougi was sitting bolt upright in the middle of the room, inspecting his katana.
His hair, which should have been neatly tied back, was now a disheveled mess sprawling over his shoulders. The source of the gift the children had just handed me became crystal clear.
I cleared my throat and fumbled the hair tie out of my pocket.
"Ahem... Sir, I found this in the hallway on my way here."
When I tossed the hair tie onto the floor, Ougi picked it up without a word and expertly pulled his hair back into its topknot.
The ominous silence persisted, so I quickly moved to defend the children.
"Those little ones didn't have any malicious intent with their prank. Please blame me for failing to keep an eye on them and let it slide just this once."
At my apology, Ougi tilted his head slightly to the right and glared at me.
"They aren't even your children; why are you the one apologizing? Hmph. Those defective goods aren't even worth my attention."
As always, Ougi spat out cold words, treating his own two daughters like factory rejects.
But internally, I couldn't stop a smirk from leaking out.
'This guy. No matter how callous he sounds, he actually let them get away with it.'
The twins had grown up walking on eggshells since they were born; they would have instinctively learned how to read the clan's atmosphere to survive.
The fact that they dared to play in front of Ougi's room and even steal his hair tie—and that he sat there and let it happen until it was gone... Ougi, you've actually changed.
Pffft!
"...? Why did you just laugh?"
Ougi's eyebrows twitched menacingly.
I hurriedly fixed my expression and shifted my gaze to Ougi's sword lying on the floor.
"Oh, it's nothing! Ah, that sword! It's not the one you usually use. Is it a new acquisition? The wavy patterns flowing along the blade are quite impressive."
It was a random curiosity tossed out purely to change the subject. But upon hearing the question, Ougi's eyes began to shine faintly, like a boy showing off a new toy.
"Oh, so you recognize it?"
He carefully lifted the sword and held the blade out toward me.
"I picked this up specifically during my trip to Tokyo for the Higher-ups' summons."
"Look at this unique pattern! It is a masterpiece—a craftsman's new endeavor to perfectly apply Western Damascus steel to traditional Japanese forging methods. As for this sword's durability and cutting power..."
'Uh oh.'
I had only brought it up to steer the conversation, but Ougi's unstoppable 'Too-Much-Talking' had begun.
Despite all his noble posturing, I guess he really did need someone he could open up to and share his hobbies with.
"I've heard quite enough of the explanation. Then, would you like to clash briefly?"
To cut off the seemingly endless equipment bragging, I gripped the hilt of Muramasa at my waist and issued a slight provocation.
The history books are filled with famous blades from the Edo Shogunate era recorded as terrifying cursed swords.
The superiority between my Muramasa—the true original of those countless replicas—and this Damascus katana, reborn as the pinnacle of modern smithing technology.
As a swordsman myself, I felt a strange curiosity to see these two blades meet.
At my suggestion, Ougi's gaze sharpened and grew cold.
"Ho. A Tameshigiri (test-cutting)? Not a bad idea."
Sshring!
Ougi rose from his seat and drew the Damascus sword in one motion.
Clang!! Clang-clang!
In the cramped tatami room, the sound of tearing wind accompanied the collision of two pieces of steel.
Sparks flew as a heavy metallic ring echoed sharply beyond the corridor.
Because of the implicit rule not to harm one another, Cursed Energy was excluded. This was a pure clash of blades.
After about five short, intense bouts of invisible speed, we simultaneously withdrew our blades and sheathed them cleanly, as if by prior agreement.
Click.
"...Impressive."
I inspected my blade and let out a sincere exclamation of admiration.
"That was a good experience, Elder. To take a direct hit from my Grade 1 Cursed Tool, Muramasa, without a single chip in the blade... You truly have acquired a magnificent masterpiece."
An ordinary sword would have likely chipped or snapped, but Ougi's new sword glowed haughtily, its unique wavy pattern perfectly intact.
Ougi stroked his chin and replied to my praise.
"It is hardly comparable to your Cursed Blade. True to its reputation, it is a truly ominous weapon."
As Ougi slid his sword into the scabbard, he continued in a very serious tone, devoid of his usual cold arrogance.
"And, as a fellow warrior, let me offer one piece of advice out of concern."
"Hachiro, your swordsmanship is certainly as nimble and powerful as a beast. However, when it comes to interpersonal combat, there is a slight complication."
"Interpersonal combat?"
"Indeed. You are relentless in your arcs when slicing through Cursed Spirits or dealing with bare-handed brawlers, but you lack the detailed tactical maneuvering required when facing an opponent who also holds a sword."
"Well, that is likely because you haven't encountered many sword-wielding opponents. After all, there aren't many sorcerers in this day and age who bother carrying around an inconvenient real blade."
"..."
I nodded without any rebuttal.
Instead of the typical clan lecturing, actual wisdom was flowing from Ougi's mouth—the kind of martial insight that can only be passed down by one who has walked the path of the sword for decades.
I straightened my back and opened my ears.
"I am listening intently."
At my respectful attitude, Ougi closed his eyes.
"The principle of 'Softness Overcoming Strength'—of letting the opponent's power flow past and piercing through their opening when blades are locked—is something that can only be realized through endless exchanges of blows."
Ougi sat back down and picked up his teacup.
"When you return to Tokyo, visit a New Shadow Style dojo. Exchanging blows with those from a traditional school of swordsmanship will provide many points of reference for your own path."
"Then, thank you for the valuable teaching. I shall take my lea—"
Just as I was about to open the sliding door and head out, with the advice engraved in my heart, Ougi, who was still wiping his blade, caught me by the ankle.
"Wait."
"Yes?"
"The Head will formally announce this soon, but since you're here, I'll tell you in advance."
"After days of meetings with the Higher-ups, the final conclusion was reached regarding your and that freeloader girl's unauthorized transfer. There will be no additional disciplinary action or changes to your status."
Internally, I shouted for joy. For those stubborn Higher-ups to tuck their tails so easily... it seemed Principal Yaga's political maneuvering using the Old Rules as a shield, combined with the clan's pressure, had worked perfectly.
However, Ougi's next sentence shattered my premature sense of relief.
"However, a condition was attached. A task has been handed down that you two must resolve."
"...A task?"
Ougi stopped wiping his blade and stared at me.
"A sanatorium located in Miyama-cho, Nantan City—the rural northern part of Kyoto. Recently, a series of curse-related terror incidents of unknown origin has occurred there."
"Recognizing the severity of the situation, the Higher-ups dispatched a team of three Grade 2 sorcerers, but I hear they haven't even been able to penetrate the interior for several days. They are failing miserably."
Ougi's gaze turned icy cold.
A team of three Grade 2 sorcerers, and they couldn't even manage it?
Obviously, it wouldn't be an easy mission. Instead of issuing a punishment, they were likely dumping a dirty job on us to avoid getting their own hands bloody.
It was undoubtedly a scheme by the Higher-up fogies to have a pretext to get rid of us immediately if we failed.
"So, both of you are to join them immediately and resolve this sluggish stalemate cleanly."
"As a candidate for the Zenin Clan Head and as students of Tokyo Jujutsu High, you must prove your might. This is the task the Higher-ups have set for you."