Stepping onto the podium, Minamoto Senya lifted the medal that symbolized the highest honor of the tournament. Below, camera flashes went off in a storm of white light as the entire Kawarane Kendo Club broke into their school anthem, facing the tournament's main camera with pride. After more than a month of buildup and hype, the National Middle School Kendo Tournament had finally come to its perfect conclusion. Naturally, the champion team, Kawarane, became the center of attention for every media outlet. But among them, the real stars were Senya—the so-called "Rising Tiger of the Empire"—and Saeko Busujima. As for the team's third regular, Ushiyama Yūsuke, who hadn't stepped onto the floor during the finals, the reporters had little interest. The more diligent journalists dug through his earlier record and quickly figured it out: he had lost in his only preliminary match. With a best-of-three rule, every school needed to list three players, which meant Ushiyama was basically there to make up the numbers. Not that he minded. It was a team event—if Senya and Saeko won, then he won. In fact, latching onto teammates that strong was a kind of skill in itself, wasn't it?
The post-match interviews began. Thanks to Saeko's prior warning, the Kawarane members managed to keep their nerves in check, refraining from blurting out anything too ridiculous. After the awards ceremony and more than half an hour of quick interviews, it was already past four in the afternoon. Most of the spectators had left, janitors were starting to clean the venue, and the tournament had finally, truly come to an end.
Just then, the club's advisor walked over with a cheerful expression, leading a woman in a sharp business suit. She carried the practiced smile of a professional and introduced herself politely. "Good afternoon. I'm with Asahi Television. We'd like to conduct a special interview with you—around forty minutes or so. Would you happen to have time?" She had already spoken to the advisor and knew Saeko was the club president, the de facto leader of Kawarane. Which was why, when she asked, her gaze naturally settled on Saeko, hoping to hear her opinion first. But instead of answering right away, Saeko turned her eyes—almost instinctively—toward the boy beside her, Minamoto Senya. She was deferring to him. The air carried a faint, unmistakable tinge of youthful tension. The reporter felt her gossip antenna twitch but forced it down. This was the sports division now, not entertainment news. She had to stay professional.
Senya met Saeko's gaze and answered without hesitation. "I think we should accept." It was a decision he had already made earlier. Fame was just a convenient byproduct—what he really wanted was to test something he hadn't been able to complete before, to see if this chance could make it work. Saeko nodded at his words, then told the reporter, "We'll do the interview. Please take care of us."
The reporter smiled warmly, then glanced toward the stands where the Takanashi sisters and Eriri had been cheering all match. "I saw those three supporting you so passionately. They're friends or family, right? If you don't mind, I'd like to invite them to join as well." Senya could only go over to ask. As expected, Eriri and Tōka waved their hands in immediate refusal—they weren't the type to seek attention. Rikka, on the other hand, shot to her feet with excitement at the thought of being on television… but then, just as quickly, sat back down, her expression conflicted. Senya was surprised, but didn't press her. "Sorry, they're shy, so they'll pass."
"No problem at all," the reporter replied quickly. "Let's move over there—it won't take long. You must be exhausted after such a day."
The interview wasn't broadcast live; it would be edited later and shown during different news slots. The reporter's attitude was thoughtful, even giving Senya and Saeko a heads-up on her planned questions. She even promised to cut anything they found too sensitive. Senya asked if she could include a few more personal questions about him. She assumed it was just a young boy eager to show off and happily agreed, noting them down.
Thanks to her consideration, the interview went smoothly. Senya and Saeko responded well, even slipping in compliments for their school, which made the advisor beam with pride. Over the course of forty minutes, they spoke like friends, expressing gratitude to their families and Kawarane Academy, and promising to dedicate themselves to the future of kendo. By the end, the reporter bowed deeply, thanking them sincerely, never once treating them as "just middle schoolers." Before leaving, she handed over her card and told them when the segment would likely air.
After she left, the advisor led Senya and Saeko over to meet the rest of the club, along with Senya's personal cheering squad. Raising his arms like a man half his age, the advisor's voice boomed with youthful excitement. "Everyone! The school board has sent their congratulations for today's victory! They also know the long journey here to Osaka was no small task, and yet we proudly displayed Kawarane's name on the national stage! You've all worked so hard, so tonight—I'm treating everyone to a luxury buffet! Six o'clock sharp in the hotel lobby!" The room erupted in cheers, except for three who merely raised their hands without making a sound. Senya's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.
"Loss of voice…?" Senya stared at the doctor in shock after hearing the diagnosis. Saeko looked equally concerned. The doctor, however, was calm, tossing a tongue depressor into the trash as he typed up a prescription. "Don't worry. It's just temporary strain on the vocal cords. Rest will fix it."
"But… how?" Senya asked.
"Not unusual. Young girls these days—when they cheer for their idols, they shout louder than anyone. Last time, I had one come in with vocal cord bleeding." To him, the Takanashi sisters and Eriri were just another trio of overzealous fangirls. In a way, he wasn't entirely wrong. The difference was that they hadn't been cheering for a celebrity, but for their own family and friend.
"Takanashi Rikka's throat is the worst. It's visibly swollen. I've given her medication—she should avoid cold or spicy food, and absolutely no talking for a few days." Unable to thank him with words, Rikka stood and bowed deeply, her cheeks red. Senya looked at her, torn between laughter and concern. Cheering is fine, but why push yourself this hard?
"As for Takanashi Tōka and Sawamura Spencer Eriri, their cases are milder, but the advice is the same. Rest your voices."
"…Thank you, doctor," Tōka croaked.
"…Much appreciated," Eriri rasped.
Their voices were hoarse, strained, almost painful to hear. Senya's eyelids twitched. Tōka's refined, elegant voice was gone. Eriri's bright, energetic tone—the one that always made him smile—had vanished. All because of him.
The three left the hospital in silence, heads lowered. It was already 7:40 p.m., the sky dark. Back at the hotel, the others were no doubt happily feasting at the buffet. Saeko's phone rang—she excused herself to answer it. Tōka nudged Senya with her elbow, whispering an apology in a voice like sandpaper. His chest tightened. "Tōka, the doctor said no talking. Use your phone." She glared at him, offended. Of course he hated her current voice. What if something worse happened? Would he abandon her then? But then, with a sigh, Senya's tone softened. "If your parents knew about this, they'd be heartbroken." He gently unwrapped the medicated patches and applied them to their throats one by one.
"Anyway… thank you. During the match, it was your voices that gave me and Saeko the strength to fight. We couldn't have won without you."
Tōka huffed and turned away. Eriri looked embarrassed—after all, she had only really cheered in the final match. Rikka, though, glowed with pride. To hear that her shouting hadn't been a nuisance but a help—that made everything worth it. She typed on her phone and showed it to Senya: We should eat. I'm starving. I only had one piece of bread today. She rubbed her stomach dramatically. Senya chuckled. "All right. Tonight, the three of you are the MVPs, so you choose where."
Too bad we didn't follow my idea earlier. If we'd gone with the others first, we could've eaten lobster at the buffet before coming to the hospital.
"Don't worry," Senya reassured. "Sensei said we can hand in our receipts later. The school will cover it."
Really? Then let's go to a steakhouse! I want steak!
"The doctor said no spicy food."
Then just tell them not to use pepper! Please, Senya, it's been forever since I had steak!
She jabbed at her phone in her excitement, even mistyping in her haste. Finally, she and Eriri doubled up, giving him pleading puppy-dog looks. Senya sighed. "Fine. But only hot drinks. No soda."
Victory secured, Rikka high-fived Eriri in celebration. Tōka lingered in front of him, eyes lowered. Senya shrugged. "She's the youngest. I have to spoil her."
Saeko returned from her call, her expression thoughtful. Rikka immediately typed out the "good news" about steak, but Saeko only gave a soft smile before looking at Senya. Their eyes met—no words needed. "Something happened, Senpai?" Senya asked.
"…Not exactly." She hesitated, then spoke plainly. "That was my father. He was at the match this afternoon but had to leave early. He's free now, so he wants to have dinner with us."
Senya blinked. Saeko quickly added, "I haven't agreed. Having him join us might be awkward, so we can just go eat ourselves. I'll meet him later."
But Senya shook his head. "We can't refuse. He's an elder, and we're not busy. It'd be rude to turn him down." Besides, he was curious—what kind of man raised someone like Saeko?
Rikka chimed in with her phone: Exactly! It's on the school tab anyway, so let him eat more too! The mood eased. Seeing they weren't bothered, Saeko called her father back.
The group split into two taxis and arrived at a quiet restaurant nestled in a secluded villa district. Not a flashy street-front shop, but a reserved, refined establishment. A waiter led them to a private room, where Saeko's father was already waiting.
The moment he saw her, he rose with a booming laugh and enveloped her in a hug. Saeko, smiling warmly, returned the gesture before introducing everyone. "This is my father, Busujima Dairō."
"Welcome, welcome!" Dairō roared. "Thank you for looking after my daughter!" His presence was overwhelming. Broad shoulders, muscles like coiled steel, a stern square face, and the aura of a man who had seen much of the world. Sitting cross-legged, he was like a mountain. Yet his manner was hearty and open, quickly putting everyone at ease. Spotting Rikka's delight in grilled meat, he ordered extra portions, insisting on more and more until she was stuffed, clutching her stomach. Senya couldn't help but like him. Parents like this explained why Saeko had turned out the way she had.
"Eat your fill. Oh, by the way—your school arranged accommodations, right?" Dairō asked.
"Yes."
"Then don't go back tonight. Stay here. We've got rooms with hot-spring baths. Much better than a hotel."
Before Senya could reply, Rikka's eyes sparkled at the mention of hot springs. Saeko smiled. "Don't be shy. Stay the night. We'll head back in the morning." With both father and daughter insisting, Senya accepted. Sometimes, it was wiser to accept kindness than refuse it.
"Good. I'll have the staff show the girls their rooms. Senya, stay. I'd like a word."
The others were led away. Once the room was quiet, Dairō's gaze turned intense. "Senya. I've been overseas, so I never had the chance to thank you."
"…Thank me?"
"For saving Saeko from those two lunatics."
Ah, that. Senya waved it off. "Even without me, she would've handled it."
"No. You helped, and that's a fact. The Busujima family always repays debts. If you ever need anything, tell Saeko. If she can't help, I will. Consider it a favor owed."
Great. Another debt. First Yōko Tōma, now this. How many favors was he collecting? Saeko, of course, only smiled mischievously, offering no rescue.
"I hear you've only been practicing kendo for a few months?" Dairō pressed.
"That's right. Saeko-senpai is an excellent teacher."
"Don't downplay it. I watched your match. You're a prodigy." He stood, moved behind Senya, and placed a massive hand on his shoulder, squeezing his arm. His eyes gleamed. "To reach that level so quickly… a genius indeed. Youthful, brimming with promise. Truly remarkable…"
Senya could only sigh inwardly. For some reason, the intensity of his gaze reminded him of someone else—Yukino's mother, who had often looked at him with the same unsettling mixture of scrutiny and expectation.
…