While Orimura-sensei's lecture filled the room, Tsutsumi mostly kept quiet. He wasn't called on for anything important, and honestly, he doubted he could've answered if he was. The topic was all about IS synchronization rates and system compatibility, things only female pilots would actually understand. Being a male and, well, the second male in the classroom, with no IS of his own, it was obvious he was out of place.
He spent most of the time spinning his pen in his hand and quietly studying the class dynamics, how some girls took notes diligently, how others whispered behind raised textbooks while sneaking glances at him. It wasn't hostility anymore, not exactly, just curiosity mixed with confusion.
By the end of class, Chifuyu finally spoke. "All right, everyone with a personal IS, head to the training field for afternoon practice. Those without, pair up and assist your classmates."
And of course, since Tsutsumi was her so-called "teaching assistant," he got dragged along too.
While the girl leaves by chasing after Ichika, Tsutsumi walks calmly with Chifuyu in the back. Unbothered whether he would be late or not.
As they reached the teacher changing room, Chifuyu was going to ask until she noticed Tsutsumi simply tapped the device on his wrist. In an instant, his clothes shimmered and changed into a purple tracksuit, the jacket left open to reveal a black t-shirt underneath.
Chifuyu raised a brow, arms crossed. "That's... really convenient," she said, the faintest flicker of envy sneaking into her otherwise calm expression.
"I know," Tsutsumi replied easily. "That's why I made it."
It was a small white lie. The truth was, he'd been experimenting, trying to convert the IS system into something resembling a Rider System. But since the prototype was incomplete, it could only manage simple materialization commands. For now, it just worked as an instant wardrobe change, far from its intended purpose, but good enough to save time every time he dropped into a new world.
"Wait outside. I'll finish changing and meet you at the training ground," Chifuyu said curtly before heading toward the changing rooms.
While waiting, Tsutsumi looked around. The campus was alive with activity, huge metal sword swinging, and a chorus of synchronized commands from trainers and students.
When Chifuyu returned in her white tracksuit, the two stepped onto the practice grounds. The sound of IS thrusters filled the air, wind from the units whipping across the field.
"Do you have any experience using a weapon?" she asked suddenly, watching him with a skeptical look. Her memory flashed back to his earlier claim of being good at everything, except taking pictures.
"I have some experience," Tsutsumi replied casually. "Why? Need something tested?"
Chifuyu smirked faintly. "Good. Then you can provide it now." Her gaze swept across the students before landing on one in particular, a girl with a long dark-brown ponytail that split near the ends, her posture sharp and disciplined. "Houki. You'll spar with Tsutsumi today."
"Yes, Orimura-sensei!" Houki replied immediately, her tone formal and her eyes serious. She wasn't wearing her IS, instead, she held a wooden bokken in both hands, practicing her swordsmanship with the precision of someone who'd trained for years.
Tsutsumi accepted a wooden bokken from the equipment rack and walked onto the mat opposite her, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other loosely holding the weapon. His stance was relaxed, almost lazy.
"Can you take this seriously?" Houki asked, frowning at his posture. Everything about him screamed amateur, open guard, off balance, no center of gravity. To her, it was almost insulting.
"This is a casual match," Tsutsumi said coolly. "No need to get all serious." He smirked slightly. "Don't judge a book by its cover. Someone with proper sword training should know that."
Houki didn't respond, she simply exhaled once and lunged forward. Her movement was clean, sharp, and precise, the mark of a true kendoka.
The sharp crack of wood meeting wood echoed across the field, followed by the surprised gasp of students.
Houki stumbled back, her grip trembling. A faint line of red grazed across the side of her neck, not from blood, but from the impact of Tsutsumi's perfectly placed strike.
"What?" she breathed, startled. She hadn't even seen him move.
The other students froze, wide-eyed. Even Yamada-sensei's mouth fell open in disbelief. Shinonono Houki, national kendo champion, last year's prodigy, had just been taken down in one blow.
Tsutsumi lowered his wooden sword casually. "Despite what you said, you still underestimated your opponent," he said evenly. "And overestimated yourself. Try again."
Houki grit her teeth, but she stood back up, determination replacing surprise. She lunged again, this time faster, stronger, her sword slicing through the air in a downward arc.
Tsutsumi sidestepped effortlessly, the blade whistling past his shoulder. She followed up with a horizontal swing, but this time, Tsutsumi caught the strike in a reverse grip, blocking with one hand as if it were nothing.
Even with both hands on her sword, Houki couldn't overpower him. Her arms shook, her teeth clenched, yet he didn't budge.
He wasn't even trying.
He could already tell, this world's people were too dependent on technology. Without their IS suits, they were no stronger than ordinary humans.
As Houki tried to pull back, Tsutsumi spun smoothly and delivered a quick strike to her side. The impact made her stumble and fall, clutching her waist with a sharp inhale of pain.
The wooden sword rested loosely on his shoulder as he exhaled softly, looking down at her.
"Tell me..." Tsutsumi began, taking a slow step forward.
"Stop! Can't you see that you're hurting her!"
The shout cut through the murmurs of the watching students. Before Tsutsumi could finish his sentence, another figure darted between them, the only other male in the entire academy, Orimura Ichika, standing protectively in front of the downed girl with his arms spread.
"Ichika…" Houki murmured, blinking up at him from the ground, cheeks turning faintly red. This is like when they were kids, when she got bullied, Ichika would always be the one to step forward and chase off her bullies.
Tsutsumi stopped, gaze flicking between the two of them. His expression didn't change, calm, unreadable, but the faintest trace of annoyance tugged at his brow.
He exhaled through his nose. "…Kouki, or whatever your name is," he said at last, tone dripping with mild disinterest. "Do I have to remind you that this is supposed to be training? Not some theater play where you're auditioning for the role of 'damsel in distress'?"
"Hey! I was talking to you!" Ichika snapped, his voice rising.
"And I wasn't talking to you," Tsutsumi shot back immediately, not even glancing at him.
The reaction was instant, a wave of whispers, glares, and outrage rolled through the field. Most of the girls, all hopelessly infatuated with Ichika, shot to their feet, glaring daggers at Tsutsumi. A few, still in their IS units, directed their stance toward him, energy flickering across their bodies as if daring him to say one more word.
Tsutsumi just looked around, unimpressed. This kind of mob hostility wasn't new to him, he'd been called worse, hunted for less.
"Knock it off!"
Chifuyu's voice cut through the rising tension like a whip crack. Every single student froze on the spot. Her glare swept over them, sharp enough to slice through steel. One by one, the energy flickers died down, and the field fell silent again.
Then she turned to Ichika.
With a single, swift motion, she punched him right on the head. The hit made a satisfying thud, followed by a pained yelp.
"As for you, Ichika..." her tone hardened. "Don't interrupt the teaching assistant when he's doing his job!"
Ichika froze, holding the top of his head as if he'd just been struck by a hammer. "Ow! Ch-Chifuyu-nee, that actually hurt!"
She hit him again. "And call me Orimura-sensei while we're in school!"
Ichika held his head again, not daring to complain.
Chifuyu didn't respond, her attention had already shifted back to Tsutsumi. She had seen his movements earlier, the sharp precision behind each swing. Those weren't the polished techniques of a dojo-trained swordsman, they were the instincts of someone who'd survived countless fights, someone who killed before.
His stance looked lazy, full of openings, but the timing, the precision, and that effortless calm… it was terrifyingly real.
"Tsutsumi," she said, voice steady. "Continue."
He nodded once, stepping back toward Houki. "Why are you still sitting there?" he asked, his tone dry. "Don't tell me you're really planning to drop kendo and take up the role of a damsel in distress."
Houki's face burned crimson as she forced herself up. "L-Like hell I'd do something that disgraceful! Idiot!" she snapped, tightening her grip on her wooden sword despite the tremble in her hands.
"Good." Tsutsumi said as they charged at each other again, ending with Houki getting beaten up.
Tsutsumi leaned slightly on his own sword, resting it point-down against the ground. "Now tell me, when you face an opponent who's stronger than you in both skill and strength… what do you do?"
"I… umm…" she hesitated, eyes darting away.
"You improvise," Tsutsumi said calmly. "You adapt. You overcome. If you can't beat your opponent head-on, then look for their weakness. If they don't have one, create it. It's still better than charging in like a headless chicken."
Houki went quiet, his words sinking in deeper than she wanted to admit. She didn't like him, not one bit, but she couldn't deny that what he said made sense.
Kendo taught her precision, speed, and form. But Tsutsumi fought differently. His movements weren't pretty; they were efficient. Every strike he threw was aimed to disable or kill, not just score a point.
Even Chifuyu noticed that. His every movement targeted vital points, joints, pressure spots, arteries. It was practical, ruthless, and completely devoid of hesitation. That, more than anything, made her hesitate about letting him spar with the other girls.
Without their IS suits, most of her students were powerless against someone like him. Maybe Laura could stand toe-to-toe with him, but even then, she doubted it'd be an easy match.
When the session finally ended, most students drifted away, whispering among themselves. Houki, however, remained on the ground, catching her breath. Tsutsumi sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees, watching her quietly.
"I lost again…" she muttered, voice low, shoulders trembling slightly as she pushed herself up.
"Well," Tsutsumi said casually, "you lasted a few seconds longer than I expected."
Houki shot him a glare, cheeks still red. "Can't you at least say something nice to a girl?"
"What's the point?" he replied with a shrug. "The entire class already hates me. No sense pretending to be nice to people who've already made up their minds."
Houki's expression softened a little. "It wasn't really our fault…" she said quietly. "Charlotte-chan pulled something like this before, pretending to be a boy, tricking everyone, and sharing a room with Ichika. So most of the girls thought you were just doing the same thing."
Tsutsumi tilted his head. "So… did she get in trouble for that?"
"No, not really." Houki sighed. "She just… changed her name the next day and re-enrolled as a girl."
Tsutsumi blinked. "…That seems highly irresponsible."
Houki let out a weary laugh. "Yeah… tell me about it."
The two of them sat there for a moment, silence settling between them, the tension easing just a little. The other students were still whispering, but Tsutsumi didn't care. He'd seen worlds far stranger than this one, a few judgmental girls didn't even rank as a problem.
After that, Houki leaves to return to her dorm room while Tsutsumi stares into the setting sun before smiling.
Attack Ride: Yusei Go!
After summoning his bike, he drove off to explore the campus on his own.