121 Night Talk in Shirou's Room
That night, the doorbell to Shirou's room kept ringing non-stop. Urgent, aggressive—it was obvious without even thinking who it must be. "I'm coming, I'm coming." Shirou, who was taking a bath, quickly wiped away the water, threw on his clothes, and went to open the door.
Hiratsuka Shizuka walked straight in, and right behind her came Senpai Kasumigaoka Utaha. "Hey, don't just barge in here without saying anything," Shirou said. "Ah, could it be Shirou-kun, you were doing something shameful in here? That makes me want to check all the more." Kasumigaoka Utaha said as she walked straight into the bathroom to look around.
Hiratsuka Shizuka opened the fridge, took out a can of beer, and sat directly on the boy's bed, drinking away. "What exactly did you come here for?" Shirou asked.
Hiratsuka Shizuka gulped down the whole can of beer in big swallows, then shouted loudly: "This won't do!!! How could the exchange event turn out three-to-zero? Three-to-zero! Unbelievable!" "Didn't you also say this was just an exchange event, that friendship comes first and competition second?" Shirou said. "That's only something you can say if you win first," Kasumigaoka Utaha said coldly, sitting down on the boy's bed as well.
Crushing the can into a lump with one hand, Hiratsuka Shizuka said fiercely: "Exactly! We must get our pride back! Shirou, tomorrow it's up to you! Get serious! Shock them! Just like that little loli before—give them a performance that leaves everyone stunned!"
Shirou raised his hands twice to calm her down and said: "No, sensei, think about it. Would you buy a ticket to watch a concert?" "If it were a singer I liked, yes," Hiratsuka Shizuka answered. "Then would you pay money to go watch an archery performance?" Shirou asked again. "If it were your performance… maybe, perhaps…" Hiratsuka Shizuka answered reluctantly.
"The type is different. The appeal of an art performance isn't the same as other kinds. We can't force people to understand something they've never had contact with," Shirou said, shrugging. "But surely there are people who like archery, even if it's not as popular as shogi or go," Hiratsuka said, resting her chin in her hand.
At this point, the senior cut in: "Basically, it's like this: would you buy a half-year's worth of Shonen Jump compiled into one volume, for 5,000 yen?" "So cheap! Of course I'd buy it!" Hiratsuka Shizuka shouted with her hand raised. "Then what if it were a half-year's worth of Modern Men and Women's Dating Guide?" Utaha
asked again. "Why would I ever buy something like that!" Hiratsuka exploded.
Utaha smirked and turned to Shirou: "Shirou, am I wrong?" Shirou nodded: "Yeah, that's pretty much what I wanted to say. It's a little different, but surprisingly persuasive."
"Zhou Meimei's Song of the Pipa may be an old-style tune, but it's still something modern audiences can enjoy. Archery, on the other hand, is like that dating guide—something some people will never use, and will never bother to learn about. Understand now, sensei?" Shirou looked toward Hiratsuka Shizuka sitting at the head of the bed, only to see that she had collapsed sorrowfully down at the foot of it.
"Hm? Sensei, why are you clutching your chest and lying on the floor? Did you drink too much? If you feel like throwing up, I'll help you to the toilet." "No… it's just that my heart has been stabbed too many times…" Hiratsuka leaned against Shirou, letting him help her up.
Shirou supported her and moved her to the sofa. Weakly gripping his hand, her trembling fingers and sorrowful face said: "Shirou, Kasumigaoka… even if it's for my sake, tomorrow you must… must shock the entire crowd… ugh."
With those last words, the woman collapsed onto the sofa, "dying." "Well… I'll try my best. Also, that was way too fake. If you're going to sleep, please go back to your own room." Shirou said helplessly. "Eh? I think I acted pretty well! I could totally star in an idol drama!" Hiratsuka sat up seriously. "Not even close," Shirou retorted. "But if it's the comic relief character in a drama, your natural acting would work perfectly." "That's true, I agree. Even third-rate actors are better than that. Of course, if it were the kind of film Shirou likes, that'd be a different matter," Utaha added suddenly.
"What kind of film?" Hiratsuka looked at Shirou curiously. "Kung fu movies! Super awesome!" Shirou struck some martial arts poses—though the only real thing he'd ever learned was taking a few hits of Bajiquan. The first time he encountered Snake Fist, it was terrifying. "Bruce Lee! Jeet Kune Do! Wataa! Jackie Chan! Snake Fist, Drunken Fist! Ip Man! Wing Chun!"
"What are you even doing? That's hilarious! Shirou, your acting is terrible! But… ohhh, so that's your hobby! Next time there's a good new release, let's go watch it together!" Hiratsuka laughed, patting Shirou's shoulder like she had found a fellow enthusiast. "Uh… yeah." Shirou awkwardly agreed, relieved to have dodged a bullet. "Tch…" Utaha quietly clicked her tongue.
Shirou glanced at her and said: "Anyway, let's call it a night. For tomorrow's performance, I need to rest well and conserve my
energy." "Then tomorrow's performance is all on you!" Hiratsuka said cheerfully, leaving the room with Kasumigaoka.
.
.
.
The next morning, they were driven to the school by a private car. Shirou was about to perform archery for the teachers and students of Xunyang's school.
Xunyang, as an ancient city with a long history, had experienced many wars. Back in the Three Kingdoms era, it was called Chaisang and was part of Wu territory—the place where Zhou Yu trained troops. Speaking of naval battles, archery was crucial, so Shirou dared not take this lightly. Before going on stage, bathing and offering incense would not have been excessive.
The boy donned the white shirt and black pants of kyudo attire, standing at the left side of the auditorium. Thirty meters away, teachers and students set up the target. He demonstrated the proper etiquette, posture, and the eight movements of standard shooting. Like martial arts displays that emphasized form, even though it contained spirit and a unique beauty, even though it was an art—
—for young people raised in a global era of entertainment-first, art itself held little importance.
The whole process took ten minutes. Shirou stayed calm and steady, concentrating on pursuing the essence of archery, neither proud nor anxious, carrying it out as though it were a refined, casual pastime of nobles at a banquet in ancient times, composing poetry, and then testing their archery skills.
At that moment, his arm and bow formed a straight line, the arrow's target and the point in his heart he wished to strike aligning with his gaze. He released the arrow, drew back the bow, rotated it, rested it on his left arm, and stood firmly. Composed, as if everything was within his grasp.
At the same time, the arrow struck the bullseye.
This was Xunyang, not a kyudo competition in Tokyo. The audience weren't rank holders or enthusiasts, but mostly outsiders, perhaps seeing archery for the first time. To youths who sought excitement and thrills, such a slow performance was lacking in appeal, far from spectacular.
But not everyone failed to appreciate it. The noble aura Shirou exuded was even more refined than tennis or golf. It was the combination of spiritual conviction and elegant temperament.
The young might not grasp its depths, but older teachers could see its flavor. At least, the demeanor the boy displayed when shooting was indeed admirable.
"Don't really understand, but the kid's aim is sharp. Such a small target, too." "Don't really understand, but looking closely he's quite handsome. Great muscles." "Don't really understand, but at the moment he shot, my heart skipped a beat." "Mm, I felt it too. He's not the fresh-faced type I like, but so elegant, so full of charm, like someone out of a painting. Anyway…"
"So cool…" murmured a twin-tailed little girl sitting in the back, sighing in entranced admiration.
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