After many days of close observation, it was finally discovered—there was only one opponent Mizuki couldn't beat.
A chubby kid named Taro.
He had a round face and was unusually tall for his age. Though he had only started Taekwondo this year, he steamrolled every senior in the class thanks to his natural physique.
Naturally, Mizuki's small limbs were no match for him either.
Takumi asked her once, "Have you fought Taro before?"
Mizuki nodded seriously. "Twice. The first time, he slammed me to the ground in one move. I was stunned."
Takumi raised an eyebrow. "And the second time?"
"The same. One move. Slammed. Stunned."
Takumi coughed awkwardly. "So… do you think you can beat him?"
"I can't," Mizuki answered honestly.
What she got in return was a flick on the forehead.
"Ow!" She covered her head.
Takumi leaned closer and repeated the question, voice firm: "I'll ask again. Do you think you can beat him?"
Mizuki looked like she'd been caught doing something wrong. Clutching her forehead, she whispered, "I can beat him."
"Excellent!" Takumi grinned. "Where's your confidence? In kids' fights, size isn't everything. What really matters is mental toughness. As long as you're not afraid, even if you get knocked down, you've got to stare him down like you're the one in control. Look fierce. That'll throw him off."
Mizuki blinked. What was mental toughness? What did intimidate mean? These weren't in her textbooks.
But she still nodded obediently. "Okay!"
Takumi clapped once. "Good. Then for this last month of training, we focus only on strengthening your mindset! If you can dominate your opponent's spirit, you won't even need perfect technique—your momentum alone will scare him stiff!"
Then Takumi dropped into a crouch, face serious. "Now, give me a scary face. Something oppressive."
Mizuki looked completely confused, then eventually bared her teeth like a puppy trying to snarl—cute rather than scary.
Takumi groaned, tugging lightly at her cheeks. "What are you doing?! You trying to blind me with how white your teeth are? Why are you being cute?!"
"I'm not trying to be cute!" Mizuki said, eyes shut as if in protest. "I just… don't know how."
Takumi sighed dramatically. "Forget it. With your personality, who's going to be scared of you? Just copy me. First, frown. Then cold stare. Then… look at them from the side like you're judging their entire life."
He demonstrated each move with exaggerated precision. Mizuki followed along, face serious but clearly uncertain. Her expressions didn't quite hit the mark—but with Takumi's patient coaching (and manual adjustment), she eventually managed to wear a passable frown.
On the street later that day, Mizuki frowned into the distance, teeth clenched as instructed. Somehow, it only made her look more adorably silly.
Takumi looked like he'd swallowed a bug. But he kept going, pointing dramatically down the road glowing under the sunset. "Now run! Three laps around the block! And remember—don't change your expression! No matter what!"
He took off at a jog.
Mizuki quickly chased after him. "Takumi! Wait for me! You're too fast—I can't catch up!"
"I am waiting for you! Now hurry! And your face—where's the snarl? Keep those teeth bared!"
Takumi's devil training wasn't the hardest physically, but it was tougher than anything Mizuki had done before.
For the first time, she realized how exhausting it was to look angry on purpose. She started wondering—those adults who kept a straight face every day, weren't they tired all the time?
Time flew, and the training entered its second half.
One rest day, Mizuki went shopping with her mother.
She held tightly onto her mom's hand as they walked into a big shopping mall. As they passed the bakery section, something caught Mizuki's eye and she lit up.
She ran toward the dessert counter with delight.
Pressing against the glass, she stared longingly at the very back—where a beautiful, swan-shaped chocolate dessert sat proudly on display.
The dessert wasn't large—about the size of Mizuki's two palms—but the price was shockingly high, hundred Japanese yen for a single piece of chocolate.
The clerk behind the dessert counter was a pretty young woman. It wasn't the first time she had seen Mizuki.
"Back again, little one?" she asked with a warm smile. "Still eyeing that dessert?"
Mizuki gave a small hum and pointed with her soft, childlike voice. "Sister, no one bought the chocolate yet, right? Please keep it for me. I'm going to buy it at the end of the month."
The young lady bent down with a playful expression. "Don't worry, I've been saving it just for you. But…" She glanced across the store. "That person buying vegetables over there—is that your mom? Why not let her buy it for you now? I could even give you a little discount."
Mizuki stared longingly at the swan-shaped chocolate, her voice serious. "It's not for my mom to buy. I'm going to join a competition. If I win, our coach said I can pick any prize under two hundred Japanese yen ,I want this one."
"Oh?" the lady's curiosity was piqued. "What kind of competition? You sound so confident about winning."
"Taekwondo. I'm confident!" Mizuki declared proudly.
The woman chuckled and came around to ruffle Mizuki's hair gently. "You're adorable. Don't worry, I'll guard this dessert until the end of the month—just for you. It's delicious. It won't let you down."
"Thank you, sister." Mizuki bowed her head a little, cheeks tinged pink. But her gaze soon returned to the dessert. Her expression softened as she murmured, "I'm not eating it myself. It's for someone else. He really likes chocolate."
That "someone" was Takumi. Mizuki was sure he would love this gift. That's why she had to win the competition—no matter what.
Just then, Maumi called from the produce section, "Mizuki, do you want to eat dessert?"
Startled, Mizuki quickly backed away from the counter. "I don't want to eat it! I was just looking!"
She gave the young lady a quick wave goodbye and ran to her mother, grabbing her hand again.
Mayumi glanced back at the dessert stall. "That same dessert again? You always go look at it. Are you sure you don't want to buy it?"
Mizuki shook her head vigorously. "I really don't. Let's go home, Mom. I still have to go find Takumi."
She understood perfectly—this dessert was a reward. If she asked her mother to buy it, it wouldn't count. It wouldn't taste right. It wouldn't be a real gift. And Takumi wouldn't want something that had lost its meaning.
Back at the counter, the young woman waved after her, then returned to her post.
A new customer pointed at the swan-shaped chocolate. "This one looks nice. How much is it?"
The young lady smiled politely. "I'm sorry, this one's not for sale. It's the only one left this month, and someone already reserved it. If you come back next month, we'll have a fresh batch."
The customer sighed, "Alright then. I'll take this one instead," she said, pointing to a different cake.
"Of course," the young lady replied, boxing it up. Her eyes briefly lingered on the spot where Mizuki had stood just moments ago.
A week and a half passed.
The end of the month arrived.
The Taekwondo gym buzzed with excitement. Though the competition was only a small in-house event, the energy was electric—especially with prizes on the line.
Backstage, Mizuki changed into her snow-white Taekwondo uniform, then paused in front of the mirror.
She took a long, deep breath.
She stepped out of the changing room and immediately spotted Takumi in the stands, arms crossed, watching quietly from the bench.
Their eyes met.
He gave her a rare, firm thumbs-up.
Mizuki's face flushed crimson. She nodded hard, eyes shining.
She had to win.
Not for the dessert. Not even for the prize.
But in front of him.
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