Eiri had come over to the Minamoto house after school today.
At lunch, when the group gathered as usual, she'd learned from Rikka Takanashi that Minamoto Senya had actually gone to the police station last night! She was extremely worried, and she'd wanted to ask him for the full story. But when she saw that Senya didn't seem keen on talking about it, she held her tongue.
After school, Senya told them he had something to take care of and that they shouldn't wait for him to head home together. Still uneasy, and carrying her unanswered questions, Eiri decided to skip her art club activities for the day and just walked home with Rikka instead.
That's what friends did, after all—today you came to my place, tomorrow I'd come to yours. Nothing unusual.
Right as Eiri was listening to Rikka—who was throwing herself into the role like a stage actress, with dramatic gestures and an impassioned retelling of Senya's "thrilling" ordeal last night—Aunt Junko came home from work.
Seeing Eiri, she greeted her warmly before casually dropping the news:"Oh, right, Rikka, your brother just called. He said he's over at a friend's house, so he'll be home late tonight. No need to wait for him for dinner."
A friend?
That caught Eiri's attention immediately.
And, as she'd hoped, Rikka asked, "Which friend?"
"He just said it was a friend. Didn't give details. Anyway, I'm going to shower. You two have fun."
As soon as her mother left, Rikka perked up again. "That's weird though. At school, I don't really see Senya hanging out with anyone."
Eiri shook her head. "That's not true. Lately there's that blond boy who seems pretty close to him."
"Now that you mention it, yeah… Still, the fact that smug Senya actually managed to make a friend? That's a miracle."
Eiri smiled, but didn't voice her agreement. She thought Rikka underestimated her brother too much.
With Senya's talents, if he ever actually wanted to, people—regardless of gender—would line up to be his friends.
Minamoto Senya sat cross-legged on the tatami, reviewing his personal stats.
[Name: Minamoto Senya][Strength: 17.9][Agility: 17.7][Constitution: 19.8](Average for a 12-year-old human: 10.3)[Charisma: 25.9][Skills: Japanese LV5, Chinese LV5, English LV5, Drawing LV4, Cooking LV4, Piano LV1, Aikidō LV1…]
Not bad. Physically, he was already about on par with an adult.
Then he tapped open the new available bond target: Saeko Busujima.
[Name: Saeko Busujima][Skills: Kendō LV7…]
Senya's eyelid twitched. He didn't even need to look past that.
Just that single "Kendō LV7" entry was enough to make his pulse race with excitement.
It also confirmed something he'd suspected: LV5 definitely wasn't the upper limit for skills!
Without hesitation, he bound Saeko Busujima. Immediately, the Kendō entry appeared in his skill list, its experience bar visibly ticking upward.
Satisfied, Senya closed the system and looked around.
He was currently inside the Busujima residence.
His first impression? Imposing.
Dark red hardwood, refined décor, elegant styling—spacious yet warm, surrounded by greenery, private and serene.
And above all: huge.
If the Yukinoshita estate was "small but beautiful," then the Busujima property was "grand and complete."
Dry rock gardens, stone lanterns, pavilions, koi ponds, arched bridges… everything was present, perfectly balanced, natural yet thoughtful.
When will I ever get to live in a place like this?
Honestly, Senya couldn't deny the envy.
Then he realized—most of the girls around him came from pretty well-off families.
Sawamura Eiri—her father was a British diplomat stationed in Japan, a high-ranking official. And the Spencer family name had influence back in the UK as well.
Yukinoshita Yukino—the Yukinoshita family had generations of heritage. Her mother ran multiple construction and real estate companies, and her father was a prefectural assemblyman. With politics and business reinforcing each other, their family was only going to keep thriving.
And now Busujima Saeko… Even without knowing the full details, this mansion alone said enough.
Maybe I should just marry rich. At this rate, how many years would it take for me to claw my way into high society on my own…?
He could only sigh inwardly at his own bitterness.
"Senya-kun, sorry to keep you waiting. Please, have some tea."
Saeko approached with a tray, every gesture refined, her faint smile like a sliver of moonlight breaking through clouds.
Since that day at the kendō club, after he'd lifted the shadow in her heart, her way of addressing him had shifted—from "classmate" to "-kun." The closeness was obvious.
"Thank you," Senya replied. He wasn't really used to this full-on formal hospitality, but if Saeko insisted, he could only go along.
He blew gently on the tea before sipping. The fragrance lingered on his lips and teeth. Clearly high-grade. Almost wasted on someone who didn't appreciate tea.
Searching for a topic, he said, "Saeko-senpai, you mentioned before that your family lives abroad, and you stay here alone?"
Saeko sat beside him, her gaze soft as water. "That's right. My father opened a kendō dōjō overseas. He teaches there and rarely comes back."
Senya nodded, impressed. "You're amazing, Saeko-senpai."
She tilted her head slightly, curious. "Hm? Why do you say that?"
Setting down his cup, Senya answered earnestly, "Because if I were living alone in such a big house, I think I'd feel lonely or uneasy sometimes."
Saeko chuckled softly, hand to her lips. Despite her age, she exuded the grace of a true Yamato Nadeshiko. "It's not as dramatic as that. At first, it was hard to get used to, but eventually I adapted. This is, after all, the home I grew up in. And besides, we have caretakers who come regularly to clean and tend the gardens. I chat with them sometimes, so it's not so lonely."
Fair point. A house this large couldn't possibly be maintained by one person alone.
After finishing his tea, Senya's eyes sparkled. "Senpai, shall we begin?"
Saeko rose gracefully. "Of course. Please, follow me."
Senya trailed her through the corridor, past reception rooms, catching glimpses of more landscaped courtyards along the way.
The Minamoto sisters' shared bedroom was barely twenty square meters, split in two by a curtain so they could squeeze together.
Meanwhile, the Busujima family had hundreds of square meters of garden just to spread out grass, purely for aesthetics.
The difference between people, huh… Tch.
I'll bring Rikka back some snacks later.
Not Tōka, though. These days, I was already her personal full-time human stretching machine. That was more than enough service.
"We're here. This is where I usually practice kendō."
Stepping into the dōjō with Saeko, Senya immediately felt the contrast.
Unlike the school's kendō clubroom—where the stench of sweat and socks always lingered—this space carried only the clean scent of wood. The polished floors gleamed, calligraphy scrolls hung neatly on the walls. Elegant, simple, yet dignified.
The room wasn't as large as the school's, maybe a little over 200 square meters, but since it was for Saeko's personal use, it was more than enough.
"Senya-kun, please wait a moment. I'll fetch a set of kendō armor and clothing for you."
"Sorry to trouble you, Saeko-senpai."
She disappeared into a side room. Senya's heart raced in anticipation.
Soon, he'd don a kendō uniform and experience the art firsthand—under Saeko's instruction.
Back at school, after he'd helped lift her burden, she'd thanked him sincerely and asked if there was anything she could do in return.
This was exactly what he'd been waiting for. Naturally, he couldn't let the opportunity slip.
He hadn't asked outright, of course. Instead, he'd said that witnessing her last night, and learning she was the kendō club captain, had sparked his interest in kendō.
Saeko understood perfectly. It made her happy to give back through her own field of expertise—without any ulterior motives, just honest gratitude.
That was why she'd invited him here instead of the clubroom.
Because the school's shared armor was disgusting.
Sweat and bacteria fermenting together—the stench was unbearable.
Senya had gagged just from being near it, even before putting it on.
When Saeko realized that was the reason for his grimace, she couldn't help but laugh, then invited him here to use one of her father's pristine, unused uniforms.
Senya had gladly agreed.
"Senya-kun, here are the kendō uniform and armor."
"Thanks, senpai. I can manage."
"It's your first time. You'll probably get confused—let me help you."
Seeing his clumsy attempts with the gear, Saeko quickly stepped in.
She straightened his collar, smoothed out the wrinkles under his arms.
Then she undid the vertical knot he'd tied and redid it horizontally, explaining the proper way gently all the while.
Her tone was patient, her smile never fading, like she genuinely enjoyed guiding him.
At first, Senya paid close attention to her instructions. The details were fascinating.
But soon… he found himself distracted.
He kept his eyes fixed forward, but he couldn't block out the faint fragrance rising from her so-close presence.
Thankfully, it didn't take long to finish.
Handing him a shinai, Saeko took one herself. While Senya was still testing the weight with a few casual swings, she had already stepped to the center of the dōjō, standing poised with her sword ready.
"Senya-kun, since this is your first time, you don't need to worry too much about the rules. Just get a feel for it."
"Senpai, you're not going to wear armor?"
"It's fine. I don't need it."
"But—"
"Don't worry. I won't let you suffer."
Her playful tone carried a hint of teasing, echoing the words he'd once spoken to her.
Since she said so, Senya didn't argue.
After all, he'd seen her skill firsthand. He wasn't offended.
Still, as he raised his shinai and swung toward her, the sight of her beautiful face made him instinctively hold back some of his strength.
"Men!"
In a flash, they passed each other. His strike cut empty air—while Saeko's bamboo sword cracked cleanly against his helmet.
The sharp sound echoed.
Senya hadn't even seen how she moved!
If this had been a real blade, his skull would've been split.
He turned, replaying the moment in his head. Saeko brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, having noticed his hesitation.
"Senya-kun, do you trust me?"
He drew a deep breath. "I understand."
"Good. Again."
"—Haa!"
This time, he swung for her stomach.
"Men!"
Different opening, same outcome.
Saeko's expression remained serene, graceful.
Senya thought he'd caught a glimpse of her movement—but his body couldn't keep up.
It was frustrating… and exhilarating.
"Saeko-senpai, please! Once more!"
"Of course. Come at me anytime."
"!"
"Men.""Men.""Men."
Over and over.
After ten minutes, his helmet had been smacked more than a dozen times.
For the first time in his life, Minamoto Senya had tasted the sting of defeat after defeat.
And it was maddening.
No matter how much strength he poured in, he felt like a lumbering bear—while she was a nimble panther, dancing circles around him.
He couldn't help but think of Yukino, all the way in England.
So this is how she must have felt all these years…
Maybe someday, I should let her win, just once.