One time, after walking Yumiko home, I quickly headed back to my place.
Since I usually go out around this hour in the afternoons—the reason being the karate academy I recently joined—I got ready to leave again.
When I entered the house, the living room was empty. Rumi must have gone to her room, and since Kuro wasn't around either, he was probably with her.
I went upstairs to my room and got changed. I had come home still in my school uniform, so I switched into something more comfortable: a blue T-shirt, black sweatpants, and a pair of sneakers.
All set, I said goodbye to my cute little sister, who was lying on her bed reading, while Kuro slept curled up beside her.
I closed the door behind me and began my journey.
It's not that far—about five minutes by train, since the place is near the city center. Still, I don't like spending money unnecessarily, so I always walk, and today wasn't an exception. It also doubles as a warm-up.
As for the place, there's plenty to say, but it's best to recall it from the beginning.
Flashback
Everyone has things they've always wanted to learn. In my case, before I died, I was interested in karate. It looked really cool in the movies.
Unfortunately, there weren't any karate schools near where I lived, but now that I'm in Japan, finding one isn't unusual at all.
Why bother learning karate when I can already defend myself and even know the basics?
Like I said—it's more like something from a list I wanted to check off in my past life. So if I've got the chance to do it now, why not?
Last week, I spent some afternoons visiting different karate schools. Unfortunately, most of them were for kids, so my options ran out quickly.
But today was different, because the place I was headed to was run by someone who—let's just say—really knew what they were doing.
Leaving that aside, I checked the address on my phone—thank you, technology. Staying focused on my thoughts always helps me forget the length of the walk.
When I reached the entrance, I saw a young guy.
Could he be the Sensei here? Or maybe the janitor, secretly a master who trains you to defeat your destined rival? Yeah, right. Turns out, his face matched the photos I'd seen online.
As I walked closer, our eyes met. Just from his gaze, I could tell he was a serious person, with a piercing look.
Being around people like this sharpens your perception.
You can learn a lot from someone's eyes—something worth paying attention to.
After a few seconds of staring at each other, he broke eye contact, and for some reason, he seemed pleased after our little exchange.
A look can say more than words—or so I've been told.
"Hello. I'd say you're here to get some information, right?" the Sensei said.
His voice was strong and carried a quiet confidence.
"That's right. I wanted to ask a few things about this place. And having a national karate champion from Japan as a Sensei isn't something you see every day."
The man in front of me had won the Japanese National Championship several years ago. Even so, it was an impressive achievement. Sadly, in the years after that, he couldn't take first place again—but placing second or third wasn't exactly bad.
"That was quite a few years back," he said with a smile. "Though I enjoy teaching others much more now."
"You're pretty young to be talking like an old man."
If I remembered correctly, he was about twenty-six—more than ten years older than me.
"It's a bad habit of mine." He scratched his head. "By the way, from your stance, I can tell this isn't your first time practicing, right?"
Showing professionalism, he noticed from my posture that I wasn't a beginner. Did he really notice, or is he just trying to sound cool?
"I trained in mixed martial arts for a few years, so I know the basics of each discipline, but I never really perfected anything. Karate, though, is something I've always wanted to study more deeply."
Strikes, kicks, submission holds, takedowns—those were the things I learned back then. And when I say learned, it's because I was on the receiving end of every one of them. My body still remembers those first years when I was nothing but a punching bag.
"That's interesting. You don't often see someone wanting to learn more when they already know the basics. Usually, they act arrogant instead."
He had a point. Back at my old academy, there had been arrogant students who thought a few moves made them number one. Too bad my old Sensei and the top students quickly taught them otherwise. After a harsh humiliation, they never came back.
"There's always someone better than you, so acting arrogant is pointless," I said flatly.
He nodded good-humoredly.
"My class is about to start. Do you want to join in? That way you can see if this place suits you—and I'd like to have you for training."
"I don't mind."
With both of us in agreement, I stepped into the dojo. It was a single-story building divided into several sections: a reception, a locker room with showers, and the main hall split into two areas.
Since I was going to join the practice, Sensei handed me a keikogi—or simply, a gi—the standard uniform: wide white pants tied with a cord at the waist, and a thick, long-sleeved white jacket.
I checked myself in the locker-room mirror.
"Not bad at all."
I had never worn a uniform like that before. My reasoning was simple: a fight doesn't always happen when you're ready.
With the gi on, I walked into the main hall, where around twenty students—ranging from middle schoolers to high schoolers, roughly thirteen to eighteen—were gathered.
"Before we start today's session, I'd like to introduce a future classmate who'll be joining us for training." After saying that, he gestured for me to step forward and introduce myself.
"I'm Tsurumi Raiden. Nice to meet you." I bowed.
This wasn't my first time introducing myself to a group, so I had a sort of protocol for these situations.
"Tsurumi-kun already has experience, so during practice, feel free to challenge him if you'd like."
More than a welcome, I was sure Sensei wanted his top students to test themselves against an outsider. Smart idea.
"For now, we'll start with the warm-up!"
As expected, we jogged around the place several times and did the usual warm-up drills—things I was already used to.
After finishing the warm-up, the students split into two groups: those who already knew the theory moved on to practice, while those still struggling with the basics were taught fundamentals. Since I wanted to learn properly, I chose to start with the basics in theory.
The fundamentals of karate are called kihon. It covered the basics, practiced repeatedly with training dummies—strikes, kicks, and other movements—so the body could adapt to delivering power and efficiency. Once you master that, the next step is kumite, also known as sparring, where students exchange brief attacks and apply techniques against an opponent who won't just stand still.
About the rules for the fights: the first person to land a punch or kick to the face, chest, stomach, or ribs wins. This is mainly for training—strikes to the neck are forbidden, and elbows or knees may not be used. Attacks to the arms and legs are also restricted in this dojo's rules. And, as you'd expect, self-control is required; you're not going to throw your full-strength haymaker at an opponent.
Those are the basic, traditional rules applied in urban dojos. In official competitions they use a points system, where the winner is determined by how many points they score during the match. Knocking out your opponent is not allowed.
That clashed with what I'd learned before—in my previous style, knockouts were treated differently, and the rules on contact weren't the same.
After practicing a few basic moves on the training dummies, it was time to begin sparring. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. In some ways, I'm very competitive.
"All right, then — who wants to challenge Tsurumi-kun?"
I stood in the middle of the training area next to Sensei, waiting to see who would step up. At his words, three people raised their hands: two boys and a girl.
The first had brown hair; his expression showed excitement and a hint of arrogance. If I had to sum him up, he looked like the typical delinquent you see in high school.
The second had black hair and wore glasses, his face carrying a serious expression.
And the third was a girl about my age; she had light-blue hair tied in a ponytail and a stern look, and like the first guy, she gave off that delinquent vibe. It felt like one of those classic scenes where you challenge the rival dojo.
"Watanabe-kun, you can go first," Sensei said.
The guy with the delinquent look stood up and walked to the center of the training area; the other students kept a safe distance so they wouldn't interfere.
"For today I'll add a few special rules," Sensei announced. "Since it's Tsurumi-kun's first day, he can use what he knows—except for joint locks or takedowns; everything else is allowed. Also, this will be a one-point practice."
Just as I suspected, Sensei wanted his students to watch someone who practiced a martial art different from karate, and for those facing me to change their routine and learn how to deal with a different kind of fighter. If you get used to monotony, it'll come back to bite you.
"Sensei, it's fine if I knock him out, right?" the arrogant guy asked. Classic high-school delinquent trying to intimidate his opponent.
"What do you say, Tsurumi-kun?" Sensei looked at me calmly.
"If it applies to both of us, I have no problem." I made a dismissive gesture with my hands.
Apparently, another reason he let me use my own style was that his students had grown arrogant from being too comfortable, so a dose of reality might not be a bad idea.
That's only my guess, though — reality could be different, and I can't read other people's minds.
"Alright, if both of you agree, you may begin. Also, you must introduce yourselves to your opponent."
That sounded ripped straight from a shōnen manga, but whatever. My previous Sensei did weirder things, so I won't complain.
"Tsurumi Raiden — make it fun," I said in my usual tone.
From the start, this guy had been watching me with a superior look, so I wanted to rile him up a bit.
"Watanabe Taiki — I'll enjoy teaching you a lesson."
Looks like my words worked; I'd managed to provoke him. Yeah, this guy's an idiot.
Sensei raised his arm to signal the start of the match.
"Begin!"