The match began. His opponent was a Tokai champion named Sakurai. Sakurai used his height to his advantage, striking from a distance, varying the speed of his strikes. He skillfully folded his arms and delivered techniques from close range.

He was shorter than Sakurai, but his jumping power made up for it. He lowered the tip of his sword from his throat to his chest and then delivered a straight double-handed thrust. Sakurai had taken more than two steps away, but he eliminated that distance with a powerful step forward. The tip of his sword sank into Sakurai's thrust.

Two flags were raised and the referee called a tsubi-ari. One of the assistant referees was waving his flag. Right now, Ogata-sensei is probably muttering something like, "Who the hell is that assistant referee? Do your best!" He is a teacher who never accepts a wrong call made against one of his students.

As the second match began, he went on the defensive. If he could hold on to this point, he would advance to the semi-finals. Sakurai seemed to be calm and waiting for an opportunity to counterattack from afar, but as long as he responded carefully, it was no problem. He knocked down and swept away every strike to his men and kote.

Just when I thought it was almost time, Sakurai jumped at the men. His side was loose. He immediately went for a men-gaeshi (men-gaeshi) to the do. Just when I thought I had blocked the men with my bamboo sword and had swiftly struck the do, Sakurai, trying to block it, slammed into me. His body lost balance, and I saw his right ankle bend at a right angle. He fell to the floor.

The bamboo sword fell from his hand and rolled into the corner of the court, and the head umpire, standing just beyond it, called out, "Stop!" He tried to get up, but every time he put even a little weight on the floor, his right ankle hurt like a needle prick. He rubbed his right ankle with his hands, which were covered with kote. He could feel it swelling rapidly.

"Are you okay?"

He let go of his ankle so that the approaching referee could see. He raised his torso and stood up on his left leg. With a strange gait that protected his right leg, he picked up the bamboo sword that had fallen on the ground. His ankle was in a pretty bad state. It wasn't broken, but it was badly twisted. He returned to the starting line with his right foot raised. Sakurai looked down at the injured area with composure.

"Pretty bad, isn't it?"

The referee asked in a worried voice, but I answered "I'm fine" without paying any attention. If the match was stopped at this point, it would be considered a forfeit. If that happened, I wouldn't be able to face Fujinami in the final. That was the last thing I wanted to avoid.

The two assistant referees also approached and peered at his right ankle.

"It's really okay."

To show he was fine, he stepped forward with his right foot several times, but each time he felt a stabbing pain run through his insides.

In the end, the three referees returned to their positions. He once again readied his bamboo sword. There was not even a minute left in the match. Would he be able to hold on with his injured right leg? He wouldn't know until he tried. The referee approached Sakurai, who was calmly standing there, and told him something.

"Call a foul, foul!"

Loud jeers erupted from the Myoho Gakuen supporters. It was certainly true that Sakurai's body slam should have been called for a foul. However, the referee only gave a verbal warning. Sakurai bowed his head politely.

"Do it properly."

Someone was grumbling in the cheering section. Perhaps it was a parent of a player. We felt the same way, but we couldn't say it out loud.

It had been a long time since he'd been injured during a match. It was the first time since he became a third-year student. It hurt to put his right foot on the floor, so he shifted his weight slightly onto his left foot. With such an unnatural stance, he wouldn't be able to land his normal strikes. Even his sliding steps would inevitably be slow. There was no need to score a point. At any rate, he just had to make sure Sakurai didn't take one.

"beginning"

The match resumed. Sakurai closed the distance in one go and jumped at the men. Without moving his feet, he blocked the bamboo sword with just his arms. It was difficult to respond to the succession of strikes Sakurai delivered while standing still like a stick. He continued to block the strikes at the last moment, barely moving his feet. The cheers from the Myoho Gakuen supporters' section stopped. Everyone was surely watching with bated breath.

Sakurai jumped at his opponent's kote. Reflexively, he tried to lift it with his shinai and strike his men. However, when he stepped forward, his right foot lightly touched the ground, causing him to let out a silent scream. He gritted his teeth but could not bear the pain, so he was forced to strike with just his strength, but his men only scraped against his opponent's mengane. Naturally, not a single flag rose. The moment his right foot touched the ground, Ogata-sensei must have seen his face contort in pain. It was embarrassing, but there was nothing he could do. It was all in order to fight Fujinami.

At that moment, the signal to end the match was given. They somehow managed to hold on and advance to the semi-finals. An explosive round of applause erupted from the Myoho Gakuen cheering section.

I was relieved for the time being, but I didn't know if I would be able to play in the next match. If both the individual and team competitions reached the finals, there were six matches left. Two for the individual competition and four for the team competition. What would happen to my ankle if I played in all of them? Thinking about these things, I left the court, and Ogata-sensei spoke with a determined look on his face.

"It's not broken, is it?"

"I'm fine. It's just a sprain."

The moment he stepped off the court, he was carried by his juniors on both sides. One of the team members took tape and bandages from the first aid kit and began wrapping them around his right ankle.

"Fine, I'll do it myself."

He stopped the crowd of juniors crowding around him and began treating his leg himself.

"Kunihama"

Ogata-sensei called over to the vice captain, who had been watching from a distance. Kunihama still had a faint smile plastered on his face.

"Can you be a general?"

"Yes. Let me do it."

It was an immediate response. Kunihama bowed his lush, 5-inch-long head.

"I can still do it, just let me out." I was only able to swallow my words of protest because I understood what the teacher was trying to say.

There's no way the teacher wouldn't understand our pride. There's no way he wouldn't understand how frustrating it must be for Ishizaka Sho, who has served as captain since his second year, to not be able to play on this final big stage. But as the teacher, he must want his final students to win at all costs. To that end, he decided that the best thing to do would be to have the first alternate player compete and have Kunihama take on the captain role.

"Ishizaka, you're no longer capable of team matches. Focus on individual matches."

I couldn't argue, so I quietly replied, "I understand."

Mr. Ogata said "I'm sorry" in a low voice so the other members couldn't hear, and then added one more thing.

"But you want to do it and win it again."

Of course. I nodded silently.

Rubbing his sore right ankle, he watches the team match in which he is not participating. He wonders how long it has been. Kunihama is sitting in the captain's place. He is still wearing that provocative smile.

The match was between the vanguard and vice captain, with one player winning and one player losing. The outcome would be decided by the result of the captain. Kunihama's movements were sharp. He seemed to be in particularly good form today. After taking his signature Somen technique, he landed a series of Kotemen finishes. The spectators erupted.

Kunihama also performed well in the next match. With an ippon lead in the final match, Kunihama caught his opponent's opening and threw a kote. A sound like an explosion rang out, and the de-kote was successful. Kunihama's ippon victory sealed the victory for Myoho Gakuen, and they advanced to the top four.

Kunihama came over immediately after the match.

"That's amazing Kuni."

"Why are you talking like it's none of your business? It's your turn next."

Taking Kunihama's firm slap on the shoulder as a signal, I stood up on both feet. Immediately after the sprain, just putting the sole of my foot on the ground caused severe pain in my ankle, but now it had eased a little. However, if I stepped forward, I would experience a corresponding amount of pain. I walked calmly, trying to put as little strain on my ankle as possible.