Teaching Kendo in Tokyo 1980

Kazuma was up early again today. Some habits, it seemed, weren't so easy to break. No matter how exhausted he was, no matter how sore his body felt upon waking, when it was time to get up—he got up.

Clutching his groggy head, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the kitchen for his usual morning ritual: water.

This time, he grabbed the strong black coffee sitting on the table and took a big gulp. The intense bitterness jolted his taste buds awake and jump-started his brain.

As always, Chiyoko was preparing breakfast. Seeing him up, she said, "You should've slept a little longer. Oh, and I read the instructions from the doctor you brought home with your meds yesterday. I'll help you change your bandages in a bit."

Right now, Kazuma had two areas wrapped in bandages—remnants of yesterday's injuries.

It would probably take at least a month for them to fully heal. And scars were inevitable.

Kazuma was actually rather pleased about that. Scars were badges of honor for a man. He'd risked his life and accomplished something great. Sure, the biggest reward had been unlocking the "Lone Dragon" trait—but no one else could see that. A scar, on the other hand, was a tangible mark of legend.

Chiyoko set the grilled fish on the table and opened the pressure cooker to serve the rice.

As she scooped, she muttered, "Onii-chan, you should really do something about the yakuza outside. They're blocking the road. I sneaked out this morning to check, and a lot of the neighbors are scared."

Kazuma sighed. "What can I do? I can't exactly go out there and chop them all down, can I?"

The moment he spoke, he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Turning, he spotted a young yakuza—judging by the crest, one of Nishiyama's men—staring at him in terror.

Chiyoko explained, "When I went to check outside this morning, they asked if they could use our bathroom. I said yes."

"Oh," Kazuma nodded, then addressed the young man. "I was kidding. I'm not actually going to cut you all down. Besides, my sword's still with the police."

It was only after he said it that Kazuma realized this probably didn't help. Just as he was about to clarify, the young yakuza gave an exaggerated bow, nearly folding himself in half. "Sorry for disturbing you!"

And with that, he bolted out of the kitchen.

Kazuma pressed a hand to his forehead.

Chiyoko commented, "It's strange. Yesterday they all looked so fierce, but now they're like this."

Kazuma shot her a sharp look. "Chiyoko! These people are criminals. You must never, ever, show them even the slightest kindness."

He continued firmly, "Right now, we're getting this treatment because I beat them—twice. But there are still plenty of good people out there who've had to swallow their suffering."

Chiyoko startled, then quickly bowed. "I'm sorry, Onii-chan. I was wrong."

"It's not quite that serious," Kazuma said, softening his tone. "I just noticed you were getting a little too relaxed. Just remember: we'll never cozy up to the yakuza. The Kiryu sword exists only to uphold what's right."

He added silently to himself: So I won't let down Detective Shiratori, who pulled me back from the brink.

"I understand," Chiyoko said, nodding. Then, smiling at him, she added, "Onii-chan, you really do look like a proper Shihan-dai now. You've got the presence of a real swordsman."

"Maybe because last night, I walked to the gates of the underworld—or rather, washed my feet in the Sanzu River," Kazuma joked.

Though he quickly corrected himself, Chiyoko caught it. "'Gates of the underworld'? Isn't that a Chinese expression? You've been picking up a lot of Chinese phrases lately…"

Kazuma replied smoothly, "I happened to come across a book on Chinese culture in the school library. Thought it was pretty interesting."

"Oh, I see." Satisfied, Chiyoko filled her bowl to the brim and sat down across from him. "No school today. I'll do some cleaning after breakfast. But Onii-chan, what about the front door? We can't have yakuza guarding it forever."

Kazuma shrugged. "Here's what we'll do—when we get the chance, we'll visit Sumitomo Construction. By now, they should be willing to offer us the original price for the dojo. Maybe even a premium. It's not impossible we could sell it for a hundred million yen!"

A nice little goal! Sure, it's yen, but a goal's a goal!

Chiyoko giggled. "Are we going to be rich? That'd be great! We could buy watermelon!"

Kazuma looked at his sister, suddenly feeling a pang of sympathy. "With that kind of money, all you can think about is watermelon? Come on—how about some new clothes? A nice makeup set? I should get something for myself too—maybe a Gundam model…"

Wait, is Gundam even out yet? Are there model kits?

But Chiyoko, not particularly attuned to boys' hobbies, didn't catch the issue in his statement. She replied to the first part. "I've got plenty of clothes. And I don't need makeup—your sister is naturally beautiful. Besides, I have that kimono from Mom. They say it cost 170,000 yen when it was made."

Kazuma sighed. If she didn't want anything, he wasn't about to force her. "Then you can eat as much watermelon as you want."

"Heehee! This time, I'm going to buy a whole watermelon, cut it in half, and eat it with a spoon!" Chiyoko said cheerfully.

Watching her beaming face, Kazuma couldn't quite understand the joy—back in his old world, eating watermelon with a spoon was normal.

He said, "Well, if you're not buying clothes, I'll buy some. I want a pair of 20,000-yen pants!"

"Huh? Why? Weren't you just saying you wanted to buy models?"

Kazuma was about to reply when the sound of tires screeching echoed from outside.

Then came the sound of multiple car doors opening.

Kazuma knew at once. This must be the arrival of that Shiro Mine-kai boss that the yakuza from yesterday had mentioned.

He glanced at Chiyoko. "Looks like our guests are here. Time for you to play the heroine again."

Chiyoko nodded. "Right. Wait—should I change into Mom's kimono? It might give us more presence. It'd match your current swordsman aura too."

"They're already at the door. No time now. The sailor uniform will do."

With that, Kazuma rose and strode confidently toward the entryway.

Chiyoko hurried after him and tugged him back for a moment, plucking a grain of rice from the corner of his mouth and popping it into her own. "Onii-chan, be careful."

Then she straightened his clothes and patted his back. "Alright! Let's face this Shiro Mine-kai boss with our heads held high!"

"Of course," Kazuma replied, swaggering toward the door.

Outside the now nearly empty entryway—only the shoe cabinet remained—a crowd of black sedans filled the street beyond the garden gate. Yakuza in suits packed the street, a scene that reminded Kazuma of the crowds he'd once seen at the Great Wall during Golden Week.

Standing at the very front of the Shiro Mine-kai men, face-to-face with Nishiyama Heita, was an elderly man in his fifties—the only one dressed in a kimono. Boldly printed on the sleeves was the crest of the Shiro Mine-kai.

(End of Chapter)

Translator's Note

Hey everyone,

Just wanted to give you all a quick heads-up. From now on, I'll be posting 1 chapter a day instead of 2.

I recently graduated, and as much as I'd love to keep up the double uploads, I need to start looking for a full-time job to help with the bills. Translation is something I really enjoy doing, and having Patreon support has definitely helped a bit, but it's not quite enough to make ends meet right now.

That said, I'm still committed to finishing this story and putting out regular updates. The pace might slow down a little, but the passion behind it won't change.

Thanks for sticking with me and for all your support so far. Really appreciate it.