My Girlfriend is an Evil Woman

Kitahara Hideji finished reading the thin compilation of Sword Technique notes, gaining a rough understanding of Japanese Sword Technique. He then compared it to the Ancient Swordsmanship that he had fused with, which was collected by Shima Kanae. He noticed that the Ancient Swordsmanship also covered some widely-known schools, such as Kashima Shintō-ryū, Niten Ichi-ryū, Yamaru Jigen-ryū, Yagyū Shinkage-ryū, Taishe-ryū, Tennen Rishin-ryū, and Anma-ryū, among others. However, it did not include the one he was most interested in, the Ono Ittō-ryū, which was Fukuzawa Fuyumi’s Sword Technique School.

Nonetheless, there was a brief introduction to Ittō-ryū. The core technique of Ittō-ryū was “Kirioroshi,” which involved cutting down the opponent’s attack from the front and then striking them down. It was considered one of the oldest and most difficult techniques in ancient schools. Though it looked simple, it required precise distance judgment, timing, and quick reflexes. A single mistake could lead to mutual strikes, and if one acted slower than the opponent, they might be struck down first.

“Ittō-ryū focuses on mid-range postures, moving directly in and out, cutting to nullify cuts…” Kitahara Hideji traced the words on the paper with his fingertips. In his mind, Fukuzawa Fuyumi, that little troublemaker, had become his hypothetical opponent. After practicing for a few hours, he had already started devising strategies to take her down.

He wasn’t a hothead, but he couldn’t help feeling irritated by Fukuzawa Fuyumi’s unwarranted troublemaking. Anybody would be irritated if they were subjected to hostility for no reason, especially from a girl. Being beaten up by Fukuzawa Fuyumi wouldn’t matter much; it might even earn him sympathy. But if he were the one beaten, it would damage his reputation and esteem.

Was it so hard to peacefully read a book?

However, in this world, nothing could be straightforward and smooth. A high school without fights wasn’t a real high school! If it was time for a fight, then fight!

Kitahara Hideji stretched his arms, feeling some soreness; he probably had never engaged in such intense physical activity before and would need time to adapt. He put down the book and looked at his guest, who was absorbed in doing her homework, lying on her book bag, her small feet in white socks curled up.

Honestly, in his previous life and even in this life, Kitahara Hideji hadn’t paid much attention to girls. With just a glance, he couldn’t even determine Ono Yoko’s age, but he estimated she was around ten years old—probably in the fourth or fifth grade of elementary school.

She wore a typical elementary school uniform, a white shirt with a light blue tie, and a navy blue cap with an upturned brim. Her outfit also included a matching navy blue coat and a short skirt. Her face was oval-shaped, with dimples when she pursed her lips, a small nose, and a petite mouth. A pair of big eyes reflected the light under the lamp, but at this moment, they were filled with confusion. Strangely enough, she even bore some resemblance to Fukuzawa Fuyumi, like a young beauty in the making.

Ono Yoko was quite sensitive, and even with her head down, she seemed to notice Kitahara Hideji’s gaze. Surprised, she looked up and saw him watching her, quickly offering a pleasing smile.

In response, Kitahara Hideji smiled back, but after a moment, he felt a pang of sadness. He was familiar with this kind of smile; he used to smile like this when he had no means to protect himself. Who would willingly smile like this? It was only because they felt cornered and scared that they had to put on such a smile.

Weak and powerless, forced to please others to protect oneself… just by looking at this smile, Kitahara Hideji could tell that Ono Yoko probably didn’t have an easy life.

His expression involuntarily softened, feeling a sense of empathy. He asked gently, “Is the homework difficult? Do you need help? I can teach you if you want.”

Ono Yoko quickly declined, “No, it’s okay, don’t bother, Onii-san.”

“It’s no problem!” Worried about burdening others and fearing their aversion, this familiar feeling softened Kitahara Hideji’s heart even more. He took the initiative to walk over, jokingly saying, “Big brother here is a top student; I can definitely help you.”

Even if he was currently pretending to be a top student, tutoring an elementary school student was still manageable.

He sat cross-legged next to her book bag, looked down, and pointed at the exercise book, asking, “Do you have trouble with this last question? Well, it’s just a simple twist; don’t worry about the numbers and decimal points. This question is actually testing your knowledge of fractions… You see, it’s about an accounting error, and the actual amount is one-tenth less than the original price. Once we know that…” Kitahara Hideji began to explain in detail, and Ono Yoko, gazing at the light reflecting off Kitahara Hideji’s face, suddenly spaced out for a moment. But she quickly refocused her attention and listened intently.

She couldn’t be described as clever, and a single curve could be difficult for her to overcome, but after listening carefully for a long time, she finally understood. With a delighted and sweet smile, she said, “Thank you, Onii-san!” Then she continued writing in her book.

Kitahara Hideji watched as Ono Yoko finished her homework without any mistakes. He then noticed her crimson red school bag, and a curiosity that had been lingering in his mind about why Japanese elementary school students carried such large bags finally surfaced. He wondered if it was because they had a heavy workload, requiring them to carry textbooks and exercise books in a bag as big as a mountaineering pack.

Reaching out, he squeezed the bag and found it surprisingly elastic and feeling like genuine leather. It must have been quite expensive. Ono Yoko, puzzled by his action, asked, “Onii-san, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, I was just curious if such a big bag would be heavy to carry,” Kitahara Hideji replied.

“It’s not heavy at all! Haven’t you carried one before, Onii-san?” Ono Yoko looked even more perplexed. These school bags were mandatory at her school, and every elementary student she knew had one. She had been carrying hers since the first grade.

“I came from Tottori Prefecture to study high school here, so we’re different from Aichi Prefecture,” Kitahara Hideji lied, trying to fool her as she seemed inexperienced in traveling far from her hometown.

Ono Yoko, who had indeed never traveled far from home, accepted his explanation, relieved. She lifted the bag and demonstrated, “It looks big, but it’s actually very light.” She put the bag on her back and lay down, showing how to use it in case of an earthquake. “If there’s an earthquake, you can just lay down like this, lift the bag cover, and protect your head to prevent injuries. And if you fall into the water, holding the bag still can keep you afloat for fifteen minutes. The bag also reflects light, so it’s very bright when illuminated by car lights, reducing the risk of getting hit by a car.”

Ono Yoko tried to please Kitahara Hideji by sharing the information she learned from school’s safety education class. “I heard this bag goes through more than two hundred processes and is handcrafted. It’s very expensive, but after using it for six years of elementary school, you can sell it back to the school.”

Kitahara Hideji was impressed by the bag’s versatility and craftsmanship. Japan is prone to natural disasters, with frequent earthquakes, volcanoes, typhoons, and heavy rain, so it made sense to have such an innovative item to improve students’ survival chances. He appreciated the thoughtfulness behind it.

Seeing that Kitahara Hideji understood, Ono Yoko felt pleased that she could be of some help. After she packed her exercise book into the bag, she showed him the inside, revealing the intricate workmanship. It was made of multiple layers of thick leather, more like a piece of armor with a swimming ring than a simple school bag.

Once she was done organizing her bag, she had nothing else to do. Since she wasn’t familiar with Kitahara Hideji and couldn’t think of anything to say, she sat hugging her knees, glancing inadvertently at the alarm clock.

Kitahara Hideji glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost 10:30 PM, and Ono Yoko’s mother hadn’t returned yet. Although it was common for Japanese employees to work overtime, it seemed a bit late. He reassured her, “Don’t worry, she should be back soon.”

After a moment of silence, Ono Yoko asked softly, “Are you going to rest, Onii-san?” She clutched the tatami with her small feet and glanced at the half-closed door, as if hesitating whether she should take her leave. “I’ve been here for quite a while. Thank you…”

Kitahara Hideji let out a sigh and interrupted her, smiling, “Just stay here honestly. I only noticed you looking at the clock and thought you were worried about your mom getting impatient. Don’t overthink it.” He didn’t want to send a child out into the streets at night, after all, he was a decent person.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Ono Yoko asked, still looking down, twisting her fingers. She explained, “I was just checking the time because the nighttime drama I usually watch is about to start. I’m not in a hurry… My mom usually comes home late.”

Curious about Ono Yoko’s mother and her occupation, Kitahara Hideji wondered if she ran a late-night stall selling Oden (a popular street food). However, he didn’t feel it was appropriate to ask, so he looked towards the 14-inch cathode-ray tube television in the apartment and asked, “I haven’t paid for the TV service, so I can only receive a few channels. Do you want to watch something?”