I returned to the starting line in a daze. I could no longer picture myself scoring an ippon against Fujinami. No matter what I did, there was no way I could beat such a monster. I tried to console myself with that thought. The fact that my stance had felt right before the match had faded into the depths of my memory.

He's done well so far. A player who only made it to regional tournaments in middle school advanced to the top eight in the nation in high school. Even someone who's been doing kendo since they were little can't get this far easily. He'll probably be able to get into university on a kendo recommendation. He won't have any trouble finding material for his job hunt, either. After all, he worked like hell for three years in high school.

Let's give up.

"Second one"

Even with that in mind, when the referee called out he was ready to take a stance in chudan. Knowing he would never win, he jumped to the men with all his might and parried Fujinami's strikes. When he came to the men, he turned his body, and when he was hit with the kote, he frantically deflected them.

Four minutes passed in the blink of an eye. "Four minutes really was so short," I thought, once again taking a stance in chudan. I had already forgotten about sansho-kakushi and hiki-waza, and was frantically swinging my shinai around.

With his shinai held straight, he took a half step forward. As the swords crossed, Fujinami's shinai rose ever so slightly. Suddenly, the whole event seemed to be in slow motion. Fujinami's shinai rose ever so slowly. What was that...?

I think you can do a dekote.

He casually raised his shinai and slowly struck Fujinami's right kote with the monouchi part of his hand. The shinai caught the kote firmly, making a loud clap.

"There is a small hand"

As soon as the referee made his announcement, time returned to normal. Fujinami slipped past him at incredible speed, but turned around when he realized that his dekotegae had been successful. A loud, roaring "Oh!" rang out from behind him, and a disappointed "Ahhh" rang out from the Joyo cheering squad.

Once again, I stood at the starting line, stunned. It was my first experience. Everything flowed slowly, and I naturally knew where to hit. Above all, it was the first time I had ever landed a dekote so beautifully. The bespectacled assistant referee also waved his flag in my direction.

Masaken. The words I had mocked before the match came to mind.

Now, each side has one point. If they can get one more point, they'll come from behind and win. A fire is lit in their hearts. They want to win. They really want to get that one more point.

If he wanted to beat Fujinami, he had no choice but to strike again like the dekote he'd used earlier. He'd attack fairly and squarely in the middle and hit his opponent accurately. That's right, it was a straight strike. He had no choice but to go for it.

"Game"

As soon as the match resumed, four minutes had passed and the match was called off. It seemed that the dekote attack had actually been successful just before the end of the match.

The referee called out again, and the match entered into overtime. It was an unlimited sudden death match that wouldn't end until one of the two teams won a point.

He approached steadily, still in a ready stance, gradually putting pressure on Fujinami's bamboo sword. As if to overwhelm his opponent from above, he closed the distance by a few millimeters. Even though he was only inching closer on his tiptoes, sweat was pouring down his forehead.

It was a tension I had never experienced before. A tension I had never felt when I was practicing Sansho Kakushi. It was the first time I felt like I was practicing real kendo. My awareness was reaching every fiber of my veins, and my whole body was tense, not wanting to miss even the slightest change.

Fujinami also moved a few millimeters closer and raised the tip of his sword slightly. In response, he pressed down on Fujinami's shinai with a little more force. Fujinami, as if he had anticipated this, spun his shinai around and pressed down on the tip of his opponent's sword.

I had no idea that exchanging sword blows could be so much fun. I was secretly laughing behind my mask. I couldn't contain my laughter.

Fujinami suddenly jumped at the kote. He slid up and jumped at the men. He bent his neck to avoid the men strike, then was knocked away by a body slam. He backed away a little, but somehow managed to brace himself and get into a seigan stance again.

I wanted to burst out laughing right away. Kendo is so much fun. My body, my blood, was trembling with the joy of practicing kendo. There was still time. From now on, I would aim for seiken. I would start practicing real kendo.

This time, he closed the gap. Fujinami calmly took a half step back to see what was going on. As he got closer, Fujinami swept the bamboo sword from below and tried to jump to the kote.

Fujinami's movements were so fast that I was unable to control my body, which unconsciously assumed a sansho-kakushi position. By the time I realized it, I was using my bamboo sword to protect my men, kote, and right torso. By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late.

Sansho Kakushi. It was a stance to protect the men, kote, and right torso. However, there was one gap. There was no way that Fujinami Kota would miss it.

In the end, this is the kind of kendo I've been practicing. As I let out a sigh, Fujinami's bamboo sword struck my now-vacant left torso. The kote attack was a fake. As expected, I couldn't give up on sansho-kakushi until the very end.

There was a sound like an explosion from the left side of his body, and the referee raised the three-man flag.

"With torso"

The Joyo cheering squad let out a roar. Mr. Yonekura and Watanabe said nothing, but they were probably disappointed. But in reality, it didn't matter.

When Fujinami crouched down again, his eyes were no longer cold as they were before the start, but were burning red like molten lava.

The crowd continued to roar for a while after I left the court. As I was taking off my mask, I could hear the conversation of the spectators, who seemed unaware of my presence.

"Does the left torso usually make that loud a noise?"

"It's because of Fujinami. If he gets hit in the torso like that, there's no way to complain."

Watanabe approached me, took off his mask, crouched down and began speaking to me.

"Good job."

"I got tricked. Hiding in three places didn't work."

Watanabe didn't answer, but said, "Fujinami's torso was beautiful."

"Your timing, your spirit, your sword strokes, and your residual energy were all beautiful. But the reason you were able to strike Fujinami's torso was because you fought him on equal terms or better. That's why Fujinami was able to throw himself into that strike."

Watanabe left, saying, "I'll be waiting for you over there." I felt like crying, but I had to hold it in. I still had to say goodbye to Mr. Yonekura. I changed from my gi into my school uniform and went looking for my teacher.

In the gym, where the men's individual matches had finished, the women's team match was about to begin. Young female fencers in karate uniforms were gathered on the court. Yonekura sensei was watching the match. He stood next to her. To someone else, they might look like father and son. Yonekura sensei spoke to her, his eyes still fixed on the court.

"You don't have to attend the closing ceremony."

"No, I'll stay until the end."

He answered, still facing forward. "Do as you like," said Professor Yonekura, clearing his throat several times.

"Will you continue kendo even when you go to university?"

I don't know why Professor Yonekura asked me that question at this particular time, but I wasn't confused.

"I will continue. This time, I will find my own kendo."

"I hope you find it."

"I'll find it."

"I was confident that I had grasped something from the previous match," muttered Professor Yonekura.

"I have no regrets."

There was no need to ask for details.

From Masuda's perspective, Yonekura-sensei's teaching may have been wrong. But if a teacher constantly reflects on his teaching, he won't be able to convey his beliefs to his students. In the end, he felt regretful, even though he respected Yonekura-sensei so much.

"Take care."

"Yes"

I bowed my head to Professor Yonekura, wanting to show the most beautiful bow I could.

"Thank you for your help over the past three years."

He said this with his face facing the floor, his voice trembling slightly.

"Good work."

He raised his head and wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. He turned around, picked up his protective gear and left the venue. He would no longer be able to compete in the Inter-High. But his kendo career was not over. Learning proper kendo from scratch seemed quite interesting.

Watanabe was sitting on a bench in the hallway looking at a pamphlet. "Teach me kendo," I decided, and ran over to tell him.