"Good luck, Nee-san. Although I think Aniki will win again."
"Oi! Shouldn't you be supporting your sister, not the guy you met yesterday?"
How had Tsurumi managed to get my little brother's unconditional support?
"Aniki is my role model," Taishi said proudly.
"That gives me one more reason to wipe the floor with him," I said, clenching my fists. Still, my brother smiled, like he was enjoying it.
"Since you met him, I've seen you smile more often."
"Really?" His words chased away my thoughts of beating Tsurumi up during training that day. Hearing it from Taishi, I realized I hadn't noticed it myself.
"Either way, I'll hit him for being a bad influence." I nodded. "See you later." I ran my hand through his hair and mussed it a little.
"See you, Nee-san."
After saying goodbye, I left the house and started walking toward the academy. Before I left, I'd been playing with Keika—she usually fell asleep around this time, so I woke her when I came back for dinner. Little kids took short naps; it was part of growing up, or so I'd learned in school classes.
As I walked, I couldn't stop thinking about what Taishi had said: "Since you met him, I've seen you smile more often."
The first time I'd seen Tsurumi was the day he came to visit the academy. Before that, I'd been bored fighting Tanaka and Watanabe. They were good, but they never used their full potential. That was why I'd been impressed when I saw Tsurumi beat those two.
When you trained only in karate, the moves and attack patterns became memorized, letting you anticipate an opponent's next move. Because of that, beating Watanabe and Tanaka had become easy—they kept using the same style. So when Sensei let Tsurumi use moves beyond the usual karate repertoire, it felt refreshing. It wasn't that karate lacked variety or combinations, but the two guys I usually sparred with chose repetition, and they didn't change their attacks much. That complacency made fighting them boring. Watching their match against Tsurumi taught me a lot.
He was fast and precise; he took his time to read his opponent's actions and think about how to respond. Their loss wasn't a surprise—Tsurumi capitalized on their mistakes and the moments when their guard dropped. With that in mind, when it was my turn to face him, I tried to use the same logic against him.
If someone attacked first, he shifted to defense and dodged; but if his opponent stayed on guard, he pressed the attack, watching the rival's movements while doing so. So the plan was to exploit that. Keeping it in mind, I attacked in that way. We exchanged a few short blows, then I faked him with a right kick he saw and tried to block—but before it landed I jumped and kicked with my left leg. It was something that wouldn't work twice, but enough to surprise him the first time. Thanks to that, I took the first point without much trouble.
Maybe I'd overestimated him, I thought then. But I was quickly proven wrong when Tsurumi took the second point. His kicks and punches grew stronger, and blocking them became painful. The gap in strength between us was obvious. Having to dodge his strikes, I found myself exposed to his low kicks to the legs—a tactic to corner the opponent, forcing them to wear down quickly. With no other option, I counterattacked, but he saw it coming. He followed up with a flawless double-kick combination, then launched a spinning jump kick that landed squarely in my stomach, knocking me flat onto my back.
I'd underestimated his reflexes and his ability to coordinate movements. Watching him chain those attacks together, I'd have thought it impossible without prior practice. He was just too fast, linking one kick right after another. With the score tied, the final round began.
After trading blows, dodges, and blocks, I managed to corner him, putting him in a spot where sidestepping or blocking would leave his guard exposed. I focused on anticipating which of the two options he'd choose—but Tsurumi made his own choice instead.
At the last second, he ducked down. Expecting him to strike and caught at a disadvantage, I raised my arms to shield myself. From there, I could pull back and strike again. Naïve of me.
Because that punch never came, he'd only faked it. He planted that arm on the floor, swung his body, and kicked me hard in the side.
Unable to anticipate the move, I staggered from the impact.
That sealed his victory—and though I lost, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun going up against someone.
That was our first match. A few days later, Tsurumi and I sparred again, and every time I ended up losing. Still, instead of discouraging me, those fights only made me want to train harder. After all, I finally had someone worth challenging.
I learned a lot from his reflexes and fighting style. Thanks to that, I managed to score points in our matches, though never enough to win.
That's why, during dinner with Taishi and Keika, I found myself telling them about what had happened at the academy. Normally I didn't say much—there hadn't been much to talk about—but fighting someone on my level was exhilarating.
Being able to enjoy training again lifted my mood—and that must've been what Taishi reacted to. What can I say? That guy's entertaining.
I'd gotten to know him better after my injury, which, ironically, he'd caused. The way he'd reacted and counterattacked that time felt different from his usual style. It made me wonder if he'd ever truly gone all out against me.
That's why I found it hard to trust him. Or maybe that was just an excuse I gave myself. In truth, I wasn't the type to trust others easily—I preferred to handle things on my own.
It was awkward getting used to Tsurumi's presence on the walks to school and back. On the first day, it annoyed me how casually he asked about my personal life, as if it were nothing. Maybe I'd been harsh with my answer, but honestly, it was the kind of reply I'd give anyone.
Yet he showed total indifference, the same as always. That made me wonder if he was only pretending to be nice for some hidden reason—most of the time he seemed uninterested. Seeing him that way reminded me of myself, so I ended up accepting his company until I recovered.
Over those days I grew used to him being around. I even managed to respond to his jokes, which made me wonder if something was wrong with his head. And now that I'd fully recovered, we'd only see each other during training—something I'd been looking forward to ever since the day I'd been hurt.
This time I wanted to give Tsurumi a beating for being a bad influence on my brother. I unconsciously let a smile slip.
A little reminiscing always made the walk feel shorter. I'd have liked to lose myself in thought a bit longer, but I didn't think I could. My expression went back to neutral as I glanced sideways at the people a few paces behind me. I'd noticed for some time that we took the same route.
That wouldn't be strange on its own, but even when I took a few shortcuts, those figures kept following.
Was I overthinking it? Maybe it was just a coincidence. Besides, what reason would they even have to follow me? I couldn't think of a valid one. So I stopped entertaining the idea and kept walking.
When I reached the academy, the lights were off.
"Are there no classes today?" I muttered. I went up to the main door but couldn't see any sign that anyone was inside.
"I guess I'll come back on Monday," I sighed to myself.
The people I'd thought were following me were gone—so it had been my imagination after all. With no other option, I decided to retrace my steps. Or so I thought…
As I passed through an alley I used as a shortcut, a figure suddenly stepped out and threw a punch. I stepped back two paces and dodged the blow.
"Tch!" another figure lunged from the other side and tried to kick me, so I raised my arms to block and used the momentum to step back and reposition.
"I should ask them why they're doing this, but I doubt they'll answer," I said, staring at them.
Although Chiba was usually peaceful, that didn't mean it was completely safe—there could still be idiots like these. Both figures wore dark clothes with black hoods and caps to hide their faces, but from their build they looked like men. I preferred to avoid situations like this, but with both of them blocking my escape routes I didn't have many options.
I wasn't in the best mood when two strangers attacked me for no apparent reason.
Ready for what was coming, I took a defensive stance.
Dealing with two opponents at once was tricky, but not impossible.
The first lunged at me, throwing a flurry of punches that I dodged and blocked, leaving me no time to counter because the second had already started launching kicks at me.
I lifted my legs to block the kicks and raised my arms as well to keep the other one's punches from landing. A disadvantageous situation by any measure, but one thing I'd learned was that cocky people were easier to deal with. Sometimes the best option was to do something they didn't expect.
After blocking their attacks, I closed the distance on the second one, but instead of striking him I slipped past his punch and moved swiftly to his side. Coming up in his blind spot, I shoved him toward the other.
Although there were two of them, their attacks weren't coordinated; that was my biggest advantage.
I took the chance to kick one of them in the stomach as he tried to pull away, then followed with a spinning kick when he was stunned by the first strike.
"Stay down — it's for your own good!"
I didn't hold back; the guy writhed in pain.
One-on-one made things easier for me. I doubted I'd lose if that was really all they could do.
Without a word or any apparent reason, the one left standing lunged at me.
I dodged by moving my upper body, then countered with a kick to his side that connected, but my follow-up to his stomach was blocked by his arms.
Tch... he had quick reflexes. Why would someone with reactions like that be attacking me? I couldn't think of anyone I'd made an enemy.
I kept pressing, trying to incapacitate him — targeting his head and stomach — but he dodged and countered with precision, as if he already knew what I was going to do. For some strange reason, his movements felt familiar.
Because everything he was doing looked like karate.
It can't be what I'm thinking, can it? Is it just a coincidence?
As I wondered that, his attacks grew more aggressive, this time aiming at my leg, which had only just recovered. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore.
During one of his low kicks I baited him with a feint, making him lift his leg to block a kick that never came, which gave me the chance to switch legs and land a roundhouse to the head, sending him to the ground.
His cap fell off, and as he tried to get up his hood slipped down over his head.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Tanaka!?" I snapped. "If this is some kind of joke, it isn't funny at all!"