Chapter 28: Refusal

Although Aoki’s swordsmanship skills had improved, making him much stronger than before, it was unfortunate that his match with Saeko Busujima still ended in a thorough defeat. Aoki endured the pain and held out for three minutes, but ultimately, Saeko’s merciless strike hit his mask, bringing the crushing battle to an end.

Aoki sighed, forcing a bitter smile. “You’re really amazing, senior. I thought even if I couldn’t win, I could at least put up some resistance. But I was completely overwhelmed—I didn’t land a single hit.”

Saeko removed her mask, shaking loose her violet hair. Her deep eyes fixed intently on Aoki, silent for a long moment.

Aoki felt a bit puzzled as he touched his face, his fingers finding the spot that still throbbed with pain. He raised his brows in confusion. “Senior, is there something strange about me?”

Saeko finally gave a faint smile, speaking softly. “No, I’m just a little surprised.”

Aoki scratched his head, understanding that she was sensing the change brought by his upgraded skills. Not wishing to elaborate, he feigned ignorance and laughed. “Senior, your skills are truly formidable. Just sparring with you for a while has made me feel my own swordsmanship has improved greatly.”

“Don’t be too modest, Aoki,” Saeko replied, catching her breath and calming herself. Her eyes filled with admiration as she regarded him, her voice gentle. “My father used to say that although my talent was strong, there was still a gap between me and a true genius. I never quite believed him, but after meeting you, I suddenly understand what he meant.”

She now addressed him as “Aoki-kun” instead of “Aoki-san,” and Aoki could see that this beautiful woman had begun to see him in a new light. Yet, perhaps because he’d been single so long or for some other reason, he instinctively kept his distance from such exceptional women, waving his hand in polite refusal. “If you keep praising me like this, senior, I really might start to get carried away.”

Saeko only smiled, though inwardly she felt a thrill—for her, there had long been no new challenges in this school. Even at national-level kendo tournaments, there was rarely anyone to excite her. But Aoki gave her a completely different feeling: given a little more time—perhaps a year, or even just half a year—this monster might grow to be on her level.

Saeko reflected on the insights she’d gained from sparring with him and sighed from the heart. “I remember reaching your level after half a year of training. Yet you’ve only been practicing for three or four days.”

“Moreover, compared to you, I had much better conditions and time to study kendo... Frankly, your skills are already enough to compete at the high school level in Japan—and you could achieve impressive results.” Saeko felt a complex emotion: on one hand, her excitement at seeing such a prodigy grow right under her nose; on the other, a sense of unprecedented unease and a subtle jealousy.

Saeko knew that Aoki’s kendo ability wasn’t quite as strong as she claimed, but his physical attributes were extraordinary. Whether it was his eyesight, reflexes, strength, agility, or stamina, he surpassed his peers by a wide margin. Considering his age, she wondered how terrifying he would become when he reached his prime.

Kendo, after all, is a martial art where physical prowess is paramount.

As a woman, Saeko admitted she was a little envious of Aoki’s natural gifts. If she’d possessed such a powerful body, she was confident she could become Japan’s famed sword master before the age of twenty.

Saeko clenched her hand, her nails digging in to wake herself from these unrealistic thoughts. An idea, wild at first, began to take shape in her mind—and the more she considered it, the more feasible it seemed.

“Honestly, it’s only because of my physical strength that I could barely keep up with you, senior,” Aoki said with a wry smile. “If we’re only talking about technique, I’m not much different from Saiki.”

But as he spoke, he noticed the look in Saeko’s eyes—it seemed oddly familiar.

Wait, wasn’t that the same look Matsuyama Iwa gave him after their boxing match yesterday?

Before Aoki could dwell further, Saeko stepped close, her expression serious. “Aoki-kun, I sincerely invite you to join my family’s dojo to study swordsmanship. I will teach you the Busujima style without reservation. Are you willing?”

“Huh?” Aoki hadn’t even replied when Saiki, beside him, gasped in shock.

Aoki looked at him, puzzled.

Saiki cast a cautious glance at Saeko, and seeing she didn’t object, hurriedly explained, “Senior Busujima is the daughter of the famous Busujima kendo family. The Busujima style is one of the top kendo schools in Japan. Her father is currently teaching at a foreign dojo—a renowned sword master. Ordinary people can’t even dream of learning the Busujima style, let alone joining the dojo—it’s extremely difficult.”

“Especially here in Japan: besides the Tokyo Busujima dojo, only Senior Busujima has another dojo that can be joined. If I remember correctly, her dojo has never accepted any students until now.”

Saiki grew more excited as he spoke, as though he had something more to say, but after another glance at Saeko, swallowed his words.

Saeko’s expression remained calm, but her gaze burned with intensity as she looked at Aoki. “So, what do you say, Aoki-kun? I mean every word. With your talent and strength, ordinary kendo training might only turn you into a tournament-level competitor. But the Busujima style could help you walk the path of a true sword master.”

A sword master?

Aoki felt his head ache again, somewhat dubious, but Saeko’s fervent demeanor didn’t seem fake. Thinking carefully, he realized his interest in kendo wasn’t that deep—he just wanted to be good in a fight, so he wouldn’t get beaten up by overly enthusiastic delinquents. Becoming a sword master sounded impressive, but surely it wouldn’t be easy.

Still, with the Busujima style, his kendo skill would surely advance faster—he’d learned this from gaining nearly twenty or thirty experience points just sparring with Saeko. Today, he noticed that a three-minute match with Saiki only earned him five points, while even a single exchange with Saeko brought at least one point. Besides Saeko’s formidable strength, the difference in their technical styles must also be a factor.

“If it’s just learning some swordplay from you, senior, I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Aoki gave a helpless smile. “But I’m swamped with things right now and don’t have much time for practice. Honestly, I’m not particularly interested in becoming a sword master…”

Saeko pondered a moment. If Aoki wasn’t interested, there was nothing more she could say. She frowned, regretful. “My offer stands, Aoki-kun. Please think it over. It would be a real waste for your talent to go unused.”

Aoki nodded, smiling. “Don’t worry. If I ever decide to pursue kendo seriously, I’ll definitely ask for your help. That’s enough practice for today—I have other matters to attend to.”

Saeko crossed her arms, watching him, her eyes narrowing slightly as her fingers tapped her arm. After a moment, as if she’d made up her mind, she said, “That’s fine for today. If you’re free during lunch tomorrow, you can come find me at the kendo club for more practice.”

“Thank you for your kindness, senior!” Aoki was genuinely grateful—her appreciation was sincere.

“Then I won’t keep you any longer,” Saeko said, her smile gentle and much warmer than before, lacking the earlier distant undertone.

“Well then, senior, see you tomorrow.” With a slight smile, Aoki turned to gather his bag.

Ah, what should I cook for Sora tonight?

Aoki soon found himself troubled anew, picking up his shoulder bag and leaving with a relaxed stride.

Saeko watched his retreating figure, and for some reason, her cheeks flushed lightly—but she quickly calmed herself. Silently, she drew a bamboo sword from the rack and looked at the empty spot where Aoki had stood. After a long pause, she sighed and delivered a powerful strike, its purpose known to none but herself.

Then, Saeko stood quietly, gazing out the kendo hall window at the dimming sky. A hint of melancholy flickered in her pale blue eyes as she returned the sword to its rack, leaving the dojo earlier than usual.