In the Joyo High School Kendo Club, the next captain is decided by an internal election after the Inter-High School Championships. After the Inter-High School Championships in my second year of high school, I received a vote from everyone and was appointed as the next captain. The next captain's first job was to report the results to the coach. I opened the door to the physical education staff room and walked over to the coach's desk.

"The club elections have concluded. I have been appointed as the next captain."

"I see."

The director folded his arms and thought for a moment before saying:

"Go back now and say no."

I didn't understand what he was saying.

"What do you mean?"

"You can't win. Just turn it down."

The coach ignored the incoming captain, who stood motionless, and left the staff room. He stood there waiting for 30 minutes, but the coach never returned. A familiar physical education teacher said to him, "What are you doing? Mr. Hirasawa has already gone home," and he was finally able to leave the staff room.

At the dojo, the members were tired of waiting.

"That was long. Was this a lecture for the new captain?"

My fellow club members made fun of me, but I didn't have the time to respond seriously.

"I can't win? So who else but me can lead the team and win?" I looked at the faces of the assembled team members in turn. No matter how much I thought about it, there was no one there with more talent than me.

At that moment, a man popped into my mind. It was Ishizaka Sho, holding a gold medal. Someone who had been given even more talent than I had. Perhaps Ishizaka had even more abundant qualities than I did.

In the end, the captain's matter was left unresolved, and summer vacation began the next day.

It was evening when I arrived at my parents' house. My father was away on a business trip overseas, but my mother and sister were there to greet me. Yuki, of course, was not at the dinner table. More than anyone, I wanted to talk to Yuki.

"Yuuki, are you going to high school?"

"I go to school every day, but I wonder how it is."

Yuki entered a private school and didn't join any clubs, spending his days hanging out. His sister seemed to dislike the idea of ​​talking about Yuki, and never brought up the subject.

I waited until late at night, just like last year. If Yuki was going to come home, he would choose a time late at night when I wouldn't run into his family. However, it seems he often stays out overnight these days. If that happens, I can just wait again tomorrow night. I drank coffee and watched a late-night show on TV while waiting for Yuki to come home.

Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep on the sofa. I woke up when someone shook my shoulder and an oversized pink polo shirt caught my eye. I looked up and saw a face very similar to mine looking down at me.

"What are you doing? Get out of the way. I'm going to watch TV."

Yuki continued to shake my shoulders in a rude tone. I stood up and sat down on the sofa. I didn't go back to my room, I just stood there. I looked at the clock and saw that it was past 1am.

We were both silent for a while. On a TV shopping show, a local celebrity was expressing his amazement at the sharpness of a knife. I wondered if Yuki had really woken me up just to watch a show like that. Just as I was thinking that, Yuki spoke up.

"What do you need? Why are you here at this time?"

Yuki, growing impatient, looked up at his brother, who was standing there frozen.

"Yuki"

"what"

"Why did you quit kendo in your first year of junior high?"

For a few seconds, Yuki remained in the same position as he was watching TV, seemingly thinking. I had thought he was simply running away from the difficulty of practice, but perhaps his younger brother had something on his mind. As I was absentmindedly thinking about it, Yuki stood up without warning and grabbed the front of my T-shirt.

"Are you looking for a fight?"

Yuki continued to pull the T-shirt tight, not minding the stitching tearing with a popping sound. Surprised at Yuki's unexpected strength, I asked him again, "Why did you stop?"

"There's no need for you to tell me. Shut up."

"I'm thinking of quitting too."

"a?"

Yuki's grip loosened.

"I'm starting to wonder why I'm doing kendo."

"Han"

Yuki let go of his T-shirt and this time he gave me a mocking laugh. The sudden release of his hand caused me to stumble back a few steps.

"You have the talent to practice kendo, but you're not qualified to do it."

There was silence for a while. Yuki still seemed to want to say something.

"Wake up your mind already."

It was then that I noticed for the first time. On Yuki's right wrist, where he was hanging, there was a red mark, like eczema. It looked familiar. It was a mark made when he was hit on the kotegae during practice. Yuki had only recently started kendo.

This guy decided to take up kendo again.

"Kendo is all you have. Take kendo more seriously."

Yuki said nothing more and headed for the living room door. His thick arms were visible from the short sleeves of his polo shirt. His arms were so muscular it was hard to believe he had been away from sports for so long.

"Yuuki, you"

With that much said, my brother slammed the door shut.

I was thinking about a third-year student who lost in the Inter-High School Championships finals the other day. I think I finally understand why he was crying. He was seriously aiming to win. When you truly believe you can win, you can't be satisfied with a silver medal.

On the last day of my vacation, I headed to the dojo. Since it was during the break from club activities, I wasn't sure if the person I was looking for would be there.

Sure enough, Coach Hirasawa was practicing alone in the kendo hall. His uniform was wet with sweat and looked pitch black. Sensing our presence, the coach stopped practicing. Countless beads of sweat were floating on his forehead.

"What is it?"

In front of the director, who was breathing heavily, he knelt on the wooden floor and put his hands on the floor.

"Please let me be captain."

I lowered my forehead to the floor. A few seconds later, a voice came down from above, saying, "You don't need to do dogeza."

A year has passed since then.

With Kunihama's victory in the final match, Myoho Gakuen advanced to the team finals due to the difference in the number of points won. It was disappointing that their opponent wasn't Joyo High School, but I accepted it as inevitable. Joyo High School had already been eliminated in the quarterfinals. All I could do now was stop Ishizaka Sho from winning the individual championship. And I was the only one with the right to do so.

In the semi-finals, he faced a wrestler from Tokyo. All of the wrestlers from Tokyo have been preparing for the Inter-High School Championships for several years. It is rumored that some judges are biased towards the wrestlers from Tokyo. It was not easy to win under such circumstances, but to fight Ishizaka, he had to overcome any obstacle. He won by ippon after successfully defending his men in the middle of the match.

He fastened his men's strings and stood up, bamboo sword in hand. Ishizaka stood up at the same time, checking the condition of his ankle. He knew that Ishizaka had sprained his ankle in the quarterfinals. But that was no reason to slack off. If he slacked off and lost, he would be the one who suffered the most misery.

Ishizaka is trying to fulfill a promise he made last year.

"Next year, I would like to beat Fujinami and win again."

So I too must keep the promise I made a year ago. I didn't say it to anyone. But that summer, while kneeling down in front of the coach, I decided that I would definitely win the championship. So this past year has been a year to solidify my wish. I was able to endure even when there was blood in my urine or when my muscles were so sore I couldn't sleep. Because kendo is all I have.

The moment he put on the mask, the crowd started to get excited. It was a great atmosphere.

On the other side of the court, behind Ishizaka, sits Ogata-sensei. Renowned as a master coach, Ogata-sensei will retire as coach at the end of this year. For Ishizaka, this is not just about winning the championship for the second time in a row, but also about whether he can give his mentor a farewell.

This was my fourth time in the individual finals of the national tournament. I have more experience on the big stage than Ishizaka. What's more, over the past year I have been training more seriously than ever before.

The night before, after a meeting, the coach suddenly approached me and asked, "What are you worried about right now?"

"The question is, will we be able to develop players who are better than you in the future?"

All I could do was laugh in response.

"Anyway, don't be scared."

Three judges stood on the court. For a final, the judges were all impressive, and all three were familiar faces from magazines. After bowing to the altar, the two players stepped onto the court. On their third step, they drew the bamboo swords they were carrying and took a stance at mid-level. Half a step forward and our sword tips would be close enough to touch. So close, Ishizaka and I crouched down.

"beginning"

As soon as the match started, I got in deep and Ishizaka's sword tip rose slightly. I then raised my bamboo sword and threw a kote, but it was stopped by the tsuba. Ishizaka returned and struck my men with his sword, but it was too close to score a point. We continued to lock swords, but I quickly moved away and this time I jumped for my men. However, Ishizaka skillfully kept his distance and instead aimed for a dekote. I unconsciously covered it with my bamboo sword and threw a kote-men. Ishizaka bent his neck to avoid the strike. I then threw a hiki-men, which hit my opponent, but it was also light.

The crowd was thrilled by the fierce exchange of blows from the beginning.

In my research, Ishizaka's winning strategy was to distract his opponent with his kote and torso attacks, then finish with a fast men's attack. He also used a two-handed thrust against a well-defended opponent. He rarely used techniques that would leave him vulnerable, such as one-handed thrusts or left torso attacks. He didn't use surprise attacks, and a straightforward approach was his basic strategy.

On the other hand, my kote was my greatest weapon. I sometimes got ippon with the extended men, but most of the time it was a de-kote, tsuke-kote, or hiki-kote move. I was hitting the kote as if I was being sucked in without even realizing it. Depending on the opponent, I would use surprise attacks, but it didn't seem to work against Ishizaka.

Expecting Ishizaka to jump in for a thrust or a men, he lowered the tip of his sword to lure him in. In response, Ishizaka lowered the tip of his sword and took another half step closer. He had sensed Ishizaka's intention to strike. He was coming for the men. His prediction was correct, and Ishizaka swung his bamboo sword down over his head.

He responded by quickly unleashing a Men-gaeshi Do. He struck Ishizaka's right torso as intended, but the bamboo sword missed him slightly, hitting his stomach. The timing was good, but the blade wasn't cut right, so it didn't count as a point. There was no need to check, as the flag hadn't been raised. In the finals, the judges often become more cautious.

When he turned around, Ishizaka was already preparing himself. Before he was ready for battle, a missile-like mask came flying at him. He hastily blocked the blow from Ishizaka's mask with his bamboo sword.

It's not just his poker face that has earned Sho Ishizaka the nickname "Kendo Cyborg." His precise strikes, stepping speed beyond that of a high school student, and boundless stamina... Ishizaka is a cyborg precisely because he possesses all of these qualities of a strong man. He is a man born to practice kendo.

Ishizaka has a slight advantage, but he knows from experience that this type of situation won't last long. He's sure to get a chance to counter it soon. Even so, Ishizaka's movements make it hard to believe he'd only just injured his ankle. Perhaps his body is made of machinery.

If Ishizaka Sho's kendo is hard, then Fujinami Kota's kendo is soft. Softness overcomes hardness. That's always how it ends up.