Chapter Fourteen: Attracting Enmity Once Again

Having become somewhat familiar with the Kendo Club, Aoki entered and immediately spotted Saiki, glasses perched on his nose, still diligently practicing in the corner. Busujima Saeko and the burly young man continued to dominate the center of the hall, though today they weren’t sparring, but rather instructing other members.

At Aoki’s arrival, Saiki’s body tensed reflexively, his previously smooth movements growing halting and uncertain. In truth, he wasn’t the only one; many members, after glancing at Aoki, found their practice becoming timid and hesitant.

Aoki understood the reason—his own growing reputation had become something of a burden. He sighed inwardly, but outwardly maintained a calm demeanor, giving Saiki a small wave.

Saiki promptly stopped what he was doing and approached, stammering, “Aoki, is there… is there something you need? I’ve already submitted the club application to the captain, and about the bokken…”

“I just wanted to ask if you’d practice with me,” Aoki replied, smiling—a gesture that softened his usually intimidating features. But first impressions linger, and after yesterday’s rooftop showdown with Maeda Tora, rumors had begun to swirl throughout the school of a fearsome, bald delinquent who had transferred in.

“Did I do something wrong?” Saiki asked, eyes wide, his glasses sliding down his nose as his body trembled.

Aoki sighed. “I’m not asking you to spar so I can beat you up. I just thought practicing with someone might help improve my technique. If you’re not willing, that’s fine.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Saiki replied, forcing a smile more painful than tears. “Let’s get our gear on, then.”

“…Alright,” Aoki agreed. He was curious whether sparring would provide more experience points. Since Saiki had reluctantly agreed, he didn’t bother explaining further; a few exchanges would likely dispel any worries.

They went to the storage lockers to don their protective gear. Saiki was practiced, while Aoki fumbled through the process, only getting everything on in the right order after some effort. Saiki even had to help him with the headscarf and mask.

Peering out from behind the mask, Aoki found his field of vision restricted, but somehow he felt more focused. They squared off in a less crowded corner of the hall. With the mask in place, Aoki could see only Saiki, and a surge of excitement coursed through him as he swung the bamboo sword—a sensation quite distinct from the wooden practice sword.

The shinai, resembling a closed umbrella, was in form closer to an actual sword. It felt heavier and more substantial than the bokken, yet it swung easily in his hands.

“Well… let’s begin,” Saiki said, clearly nervous; Aoki, exhilarated, tapped his bamboo sword against Saiki’s, then let out a shout and unleashed a powerful strike with almost no warning, stopping just short at Saiki’s mask. “Haa!”

The resounding shout drew the attention of those nearby. In kendo matches, the shout accompanying an attack is crucial—only with a loud voice and fierce action can one score effectively. This was something Aoki had learned from his kendo skills.

Fortunately, Aoki had pulled his strength at the last moment, or Saiki’s dazed reaction would surely have left him sprawled on the ground.

“Saiki, focus,” Aoki said gently. The stern cut had brought Saiki to his senses, and with a muffled reply from beneath the mask, he backed away to distance himself, officially beginning the bout.

Damn it, since you insist on sparring, I won’t hold back! Saiki’s expression behind the mask was vexed—he felt he’d been accommodating enough, but this bald guy just wouldn’t let up. Determined, Saiki resolved to go all out and show this brute that being good in a fight didn’t mean one could excel at kendo too.

But to his surprise, even when he got serious… he still couldn’t win!

Aoki’s features, hidden by the mask, were now beaming. His kendo skills might only be at level two, but his outstanding physical prowess gave him a clear advantage. Whether initiating an attack or defending and counterattacking, he always managed to act a step ahead of Saiki.

By standard kendo scoring, Aoki would already have clinched victory with three clean points.

Busujima Saeko, drawn by Aoki’s spirited kiai, watched closely and soon recognized one of the participants as her own club member, Saiki. What caught her attention was that, despite Saiki’s textbook form and methodical attack and defense, his opponent was even more formidable. The movements were a bit stiff, but powerful and swift—each time Saiki tried to attack, his opponent was faster, whether advancing or withdrawing defensively. When Saiki defended, he was repeatedly overpowered—either a step too slow, or his parries were simply broken through, yielding consecutive points.

Saiki, meanwhile, felt as if darkness had closed in around him. No matter how he tried to dodge or defend, Aoki’s strikes always found their mark. By the end, he was reduced to fleeing around the hall, barely able to hold up his shinai.

Noticing Saiki’s dazed state, Aoki, a little disappointed, stopped and waved his bokken to signal the bout’s end.

Removing his mask, Aoki was only slightly out of breath, while Saiki was drenched in sweat.

“Aoki… have you really never practiced kendo before?” Saiki panted, collapsing onto the floor. He never wanted to spar with this monster again. Rubbing his aching hands, he hung his head and said bitterly, “You win.”

Aoki, now breathing steadily, chuckled and offered his hand. “Your technique’s not bad, Saiki. I just happen to be stronger, that’s all. Come on, move around a bit before you rest.”

Somewhat surprised, Saiki took the offered hand and got to his feet. Looking at the tough-looking guy before him, he found he wasn’t so scared anymore. For the first time, he spoke from the heart, “Kendo is a sport, after all—physical strength is a kind of strength too. Yesterday, Aoki, you’d only just grasped the basics, but today you’re already applying them well. Still a bit stiff, but that’s impressive.”

“Indeed,” came Busujima Saeko’s voice from behind Saiki. He turned quickly and bowed, “Captain Busujima.”

She waved him upright, her expression tinged with admiration as she looked at Aoki. “Aoki, your rate of improvement is truly astonishing.”

“You flatter me,” Aoki replied with a faint smile, starting to remove his gear.

“Hold on,” came a mocking male voice from not far away. “Since Saiki isn’t strong enough, let me spar with you instead.” The burly young man who had sparred with Busujima the day before was now approaching Aoki, his expression full of scorn.