"Nothing to worry about."
Minamoto Senya immediately realized what had happened. That guy must have stuffed it into his schoolbag after all.
Some foreign "Mega Dumb Spring" edition, seriously…
He stepped forward, took the book and CD from Tōka's hands, and tossed them straight into the trash. Then he picked up the phone charger from his bedside table.
"Go to bed early. Good night."
Tōka rested her hands on her hips. The playful smirk on her face faded, replaced by mild disappointment. As Senya walked out, she muttered to herself,"What a shame. I thought I'd finally get to see him panic for once."
Turning back to the two younger girls, she asked,"And why are you still up? Did you really think that stuff belonged to Senya?"
Rikka blinked. "Eh? It wasn't his?"
"If it really were his, there's no way you'd have found it so easily."
That was… an oddly convincing line of reasoning.
And honestly, considering how sharp Senya was, it made sense.
Neither Tōka nor Rikka dwelled on the matter. But Eriri, after a brief moment of joy, felt her heart sink.
Back in middle school, once her drawing skills had improved, she hadn't been content with just normal illustration.
Driven by creative urges, she had secretly borrowed her mom's adult-doujin forum account and posted a few works of her own. Thanks to her refined skill, they'd been met with huge praise and popularity.
When she first saw the book and CD, she thought Senya might have similar tastes. For a moment, she'd been thrilled at the idea of sharing that joy with him.
But now… maybe not. She'd just have to find another chance.
For now, she decided she'd hint at it lightly to Yukino and gauge her reaction first.
The next day, at around 5:30 in the morning, Senya woke with the faint light of dawn.
Wearing only a tank top and shorts, he grabbed the wooden sword Busujima Saeko had given him and stepped outside, beginning his suburi practice in the open space by the house.
Suburi—repetitive practice swings performed with proper grip, breathing, and footwork—was the most fundamental training in kendo.
It was boring.
But Senya remembered what Saeko had told him the previous evening.
Though suburi seemed monotonous, it was as essential as learning how to walk before you could run or jump. Every complex, dazzling sword technique was built on these seemingly mundane foundations.
If even a kendo genius said so, then of course Senya would give it his all.
He raised the wooden sword high overhead, stepped forward, and swung down again and again.
This was nothing like binding with Yukino or Eriri.
Japanese skills were important. Drawing skills were nice. But compared to those—this was his childhood dream.
What boy hadn't once picked up a stick or branch, imagining it as a gleaming blade, cutting down shrubs or swaying leaves like villains in his path? One swing to banish all evil!
And Senya had actually witnessed Busujima Saeko fighting up close—her sharp, fluid movements, her fearless stance.
It was just too cool.
Completely irresistible. This wasn't just admiration—this was love.
The desire to be strong had nothing to do with gender.
He wanted to be that impressive. And besides, kendo would double as a real means of self-defense. Why not pursue it?
"Haah… haah…" Each swing tore through the air, the bokken making a heavy, muffled sound.
Sweat poured down his body, shining like gold in the morning light.
Inside the house.
Eriri had woken up to use the bathroom, but when her gaze drifted to the window, the sight outside banished all traces of sleepiness.
She stood there, mesmerized, watching for a while. Then, seeing that Rikka was still fast asleep, she quietly picked up her phone and recorded a short clip.
Looking at the new video in her gallery, her lips curled into a smile so wide it could hang a teapot.
She loved this—the joy of being by his side, capturing little moments, and watching him grow.
She hovered her thumb over the "share" button, ready to send it to Yukino—then froze.
A sultry whisper crept into her mind, tempting her:
Yukino's overseas. Isn't this the perfect chance to cut her out?
No, no, no!
Eriri mentally punched that wicked thought into oblivion.
She hit "send" decisively, adding a caption:
[When I woke up, I found Senya practicing sword swings outside. He's working so hard, haha. Snuck a little video!]
Just like Senya, Yukino had helped pull her out of her own pit of despair. Yukino was a friend she could never replace.
At breakfast, Senya had showered and joined everyone around the table.
"Eriri, are you sick?" Rikka asked casually.
Eriri blinked, startled. "No, why?"
"Because when you were sleeping last night, your breathing was heavy and your face was all red. I thought you weren't feeling well."
"Cough! Cough, cough!"
Eriri spun away, nearly choking on her food.
Rikka patted her back gently. "You okay? Slow down, we've got plenty of time before school."
Seeing both Tōka and Senya glance her way, Eriri forced a laugh."N-No problem, hahaha… Last night it was just, um, hot! Yeah, I get warm really easily!"
"I see. Next time, don't hesitate to say something. We can just switch to a lighter blanket."
"Y-Yes, got it!"
That tiny breakfast episode left Eriri rattled.
She thought she'd hidden everything perfectly—but apparently Rikka had noticed.
Thank goodness she hadn't overthought it, or Eriri's secret would've been exposed completely!
No, wait! It wasn't a perverted thing!
She just liked the faint smell of laundry detergent on Senya's bed. That was all!
Yes. Absolutely nothing else!
At school, after the morning classes ended, lunchtime arrived.
Senya sent Eriri and Rikka to the cafeteria and headed to the kendo club room with Busujima Saeko.
"Good afternoon, Minamoto-kun."
"Good afternoon, Busujima-senpai."
"Did you practice suburi this morning?"
"Yes."
"How many swings?"
"I didn't count."
"Did you keep going until your arms gave out?"
"Yes."
"You don't need to push that hard at the start. Too much can be harmful."
"I understand. Actually, could I ask you to check my form?"
"Of course."
Senya picked up his bokken and went through a set of motions. Saeko watched carefully, then nodded."Your form is excellent."
Encouraged, he began practicing in earnest.
Unlike yesterday, club members drifted in and out. Many greeted their club captain warmly.
Saeko returned their greetings politely, but her eyes always drifted back to Senya, her smile brightening.
After about half an hour, she called for a break and had him sit beside her.
Then, without hesitation—and without caring about the curious eyes around them—she began massaging his shoulders and arms.
"S-Senpai, that's not necessary…"
Senya could feel the jealous stares of nearby male members burning into his back.
But Saeko brushed it off."You're a beginner. Post-training massage is important—it prevents soreness, improves circulation, and helps your muscles recover. Don't move. Relax."
Since she insisted, Senya could only accept her kindness.
Her technique was professional, soothing his aches. But for Senya, that wasn't the most important part.
After all, his system's binding module worked better the closer he was to someone—the faster his growth.
As for Saeko's thoughts—
After yesterday's spar and today's close observation, her conclusion was clear.
By her judgment, Senya's physical strength, stamina, concentration, perseverance, and learning ability were all far above average.
He possessed real talent for kendo.
She believed that if he kept training, in just a few years he could achieve impressive results in the field.
But reality quickly left her stunned.
Senya didn't fail her expectations.
Instead, in a way she could hardly believe, he was growing at a breathtaking pace.