The kendo club's advisor flipped through the roster of their upcoming opponents from Meguro National Middle School and couldn't help shaking his head slightly.
Every single player listed was a first-year. That could only mean one of two things: either Meguro's kendo club had only just been founded, or they simply didn't have anyone else they could field.
Either way, this lineup was far too green.
Maybe they just wanted to soak up the atmosphere of a real tournament. Maybe even one win would give them enough to go home and celebrate, something to call a "youthful memory" years later.
But unfortunately for them, their very first match was against Kawarami.
Busujima Saeko, scion of a kendo family, needed no introduction. And then there was Minamoto Senya—an utter prodigy. He'd only been training for a little over a month, and yet his growth was terrifyingly fast.
He couldn't yet match Saeko in technical finesse, but his raw physical ability was monstrous. With his explosive athleticism, he was already capable of going toe-to-toe with her.
With a two-out-of-three match format, the team practically had victory guaranteed with those two alone.
Knowing this, Ushiyama Yūsuke, one of Kawarami's regulars, stood up boldly and volunteered to go first.
His logic was simple: why waste the big guns on small fry?
If he, a third-year senior, could secure an opening win, their aces could sit back, conserve energy, and focus on tougher opponents later on.
Besides, he knew his own limits. Among his peers he was decent, but he wasn't someone who could dominate at the highest level. Against weaker opponents, though? Perfect chance to snag a win for the record.
And if he lost later, at least he wouldn't leave empty-handed.
Yes, this was the wise foresight of a veteran third-year! True brilliance!
Saeko and Senya had no objections.
With his armor adjusted by his teammates, Ushiyama walked proudly onto the floor.
When he got a look at his opponent—a boy noticeably shorter and smaller—he nearly laughed.
Didn't anyone tell this kid that kendo requires proper nutrition? That body looked so frail, so undeveloped. Even Senya, the same age, was leagues ahead in growth.
He almost worried that if he brought his shinai down full force, the boy might just collapse on the spot.
Still, manners were manners. Ushiyama bowed properly, stepped forward to the starting line, and crouched in position, waiting for the referee's call.
Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Kawarami's substitutes were already distracted. Whispering and chuckling to each other, their eyes were more on other courts than the one in front of them.
They knew they likely wouldn't get to play today. So instead, they wanted to contribute by analyzing rival teams, noting habits and favored strikes—anything that could help their starters.
"Our school's only real threats are Suzuran and Shōhoku Middle. If those two get matched against each other early, we're practically guaranteed a clear path."
"Yeah. But look at the match right now. You think that kid can even last five exchanges against Yūsuke?"
"Not a chance. Yūsuke's tall and broad, the other one's tiny. Physically, it's not even a contest. He'll crush him."
"I bet Yūsuke will play around a little, maybe circle him a few times before finishing it."
"Senpai, it's already over."
Their banter was cut short by Saeko's clear, elegant voice.
Indeed—when they turned back, Ushiyama was already being driven to the edge of the court. Three referees had raised their white flags, declaring the opponent victorious.
In the stands, Eriri and Rikka gripped each other's hands nervously.
"Oh no! We lost the first match?!"
"Why didn't he dodge? It hit him right on the head!"
Her sister Toka sighed and flicked her forehead. "This isn't a game of tag. Kendo's a real sport. Dodging isn't that simple."
Yukinoshita Haruno sipped her drink, far calmer. "Relax. Team matches are best-of-three. Each individual bout is also best-of-three points. You need two points to actually win a round."
Rikka's eyes lit up. "So… we're not done yet? There's still hope?"
She hadn't even known the first player's name. But since he was on Senya's team, his loss felt personal.
Haruno nodded. "Exactly. If he regains composure and fights back, he could still take it."
But Yukino, who had been silently watching the whole time, finally spoke. "That's no longer possible."
Sure enough, Ushiyama trudged back, head hung low.
"I—I'm terribly sorry!"
He bowed at a sharp ninety degrees, face hidden behind his mask. On live broadcast, he couldn't drop to his knees, but his shame was palpable.
He had lost the first round by underestimating his opponent. The second, by overcorrecting—rushing in recklessly, leaving an opening, and having his hand struck clean.
In short, he'd handed away the first game entirely.
The Meguro spectators erupted in cheers, while Kawarami's section fell into silence.
"Don't worry, Ushiyama-senpai. Wins and losses are part of kendo. Next time, just do better," Saeko reassured gently as she prepared to enter.
She truly didn't mind. With Senya alongside her, victory was never in doubt.
Senya clapped Ushiyama's shoulder. "You fought hard, senpai. Leave the rest to me and Saeko-senpai."
Moved to tears behind his mask, Ushiyama slipped to the back to compose himself.
The referee called for the second match. Saeko stepped forward.
Eriri leaned toward Yukino, whispering what she knew of Saeko's history with Senya. That got Yukino's attention, and she fixed her gaze firmly on the floor.
But unlike the drawn-out first match, this one was over in seconds.
The referee barely had time to process what had happened before Saeko's flawless strikes landed—sharp, precise, overwhelming.
With her win, Kawarami's momentum shifted instantly.
And then came Senya's turn.
This wasn't his first competition, but it was his first national-level event. The venue, the crowd, the professional referees—it all carried more weight. Yet his heart was calm.
He remembered a lesson from a certain mentor: Strategically, underestimate your opponent. Tactically, always respect them.
Even if victory was inevitable, he would not get careless.
At the signal, he advanced carefully, feinted toward the body, then snapped upward to strike the head.
"Men!"
The point was clean, decisive.
All three referees raised their red flags.
Rikka squealed in joy. Eriri's camera clicked nonstop. Yukino, though silent, watched intently, an unnameable feeling rising in her chest.
Senya's second point came just as swiftly—a sidestep, a slash to the hand, the opponent's shinai clattering to the ground.
Another victory, and the team's overall win was secured.
From there, the rest of the tournament was a blur. Saeko and Senya crushed every opponent in their path. The third player never even needed to enter.
Their performances drew attention from the crowd and media alike—not only for their overwhelming skill, but for their charisma.
A beautiful, fierce girl. A bright, handsome boy. Together, they cut down challengers like a storm.
The more they won, the more the atmosphere shifted. Cameras lingered on their faces during breaks. Girls crowded the edges of the court to cheer for Senya, some even shouting embarrassing declarations of love.
Eriri nearly exploded from frustration.
But through it all, Senya stayed composed. His strikes were clean, his victories decisive. By evening, Kawarami had swept through to take the Tokyo championship.
On the podium, surrounded by teammates, Senya accepted the award certificate. Some girls even slipped him flowers and stuffed animals.
As they left the stage, Saeko asked with a smile, "So, Senya-kun, how do you feel about today's matches?"
He shook his head. It wasn't arrogance—just honesty. To him, after training daily with Saeko, the tournament matches had felt… light. Barely a warm-up.
Understanding, she replied, "The national finals will be different. Only those with both talent and effort make it there."
Senya's lips curved. "Good. Otherwise, it'd be boring."
Saeko laughed softly. "You really are like me."
They shared a smile.
That evening, while the rest of the team prepared for a celebratory party, Senya invited her to join him and his friends instead.
"We'll just pick up food at the supermarket and celebrate at home. Loud, fun, simple. Come with us, Saeko-senpai."
She hesitated, hand fiddling with her hair. "Wouldn't I be intruding?"
"Of course not. You'll make it livelier," he insisted warmly.
And in that warmth, Saeko felt a pull she couldn't deny.
When they stepped outside together, they found their friends waiting. But instead of cheers, they were met with strained, unreadable expressions.
Senya blinked in confusion. "Huh? Didn't I just win the championship? Why do you all look… unhappy?"