Chapter 11: Actually, I Also Know a Little Swordsmanship
"For the next few years, I trained in swordsmanship at the Isshin Dojo. Master Koshiro was very good to me, but I could never let go of my dream of one day reviving my own dojo."
"Especially a few months ago, a guest from Cherry Blossom Island came to visit my teacher. When I asked him about the Sakuraba Dojo, the guest was stunned for a long time. He had never even heard of it!"
"Something like that, something like..."
Junichi clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together with force. "I can't accept it! If my father were still alive, how could this have happened! Back then, the Sakuraba name was known by everyone on Cherry Blossom Island!"
"It's all my fault! I was too useless! I couldn't take on my father's mantle and responsibility. I failed to become a swordsman capable of standing on my own, and that's why the dojo has fallen into such ruin!"
"Stop, stop, stop."
Shane was getting goosebumps and quickly held up a hand to interrupt him.
"That's enough. I can't stand it. You're just a kid, talking about 'responsibility' and 'reviving the dojo.' Let me ask you, how old were you when your father died?"
Why is he asking this?
But Junichi still answered honestly. "Ten."
"Well, there you have it," Shane said, throwing his hands up. "Didn't you say all your senior brothers ran off? If a group of adults were powerless to change the situation, what could a ten-year-old boy possibly do?"
"What's wrong with you, crying and wailing, taking all the blame on yourself? Who are you trying to impress? Are you a masochist?"
"Remember this," he said, speaking like an experienced elder, "instead of consuming yourself with guilt, you should direct your energy outward at others. Otherwise, you'll fall into an endless spiral of anxiety, and who knows, you might even hang yourself one day."
"Your top priority right now is to honestly practice swordsmanship with Koshiro. When you're tired, vent by cursing out the guys who ruined your dojo, and then get back to training. How is it your fault? It's clearly all their fault!"
"..." Junichi was stunned.
This guy... he's younger than me, but how do his words sound so philosophical?
"But, my swordsmanship is already very strong..." he said eagerly. "I came back to Cherry Blossom Island this time specifically for the kendo tournament. I'm going to win the championship and let those people from the Seven Great Dojos know that the Sakuraba family has not fallen! It's just... it's just that..."
"You don't have the money to register?" Shane glanced at him sideways.
"Yes."
Junichi's head drooped, but the next moment he became angry again. "You saw the notice board, right? The registration fee alone is 10,000 Belli. And you have to buy their standardized uniform and bamboo sword, which they sell at an exorbitant price. It all adds up to almost 20,000 Belli."
"Not to mention, only disciples of the Seven Great Dojos can register. Swordsmen from outside have to find a way to pay to join one of them... It's insane! To be so greedy and still have the nerve to call this the most prestigious kendo event in the East Blue..."
"Kendo, and the dojos that teach it, should never be like this!"
Thump! He became more agitated as he spoke and couldn't stop himself from slamming the table. "Why do the Seven Great Dojos have to be like this?! When the Sakuraba family first started the tournament, there was no fee at all! We would even subsidize the travel expenses for swordsmen who were short on cash! The atmosphere back then... how did it become so ugly?! Do they have no honor or self-respect as swordsmen?!"
"So noisy! Geez... I can't even hear what this beautiful lady is saying. Shut your mouth, you little brat!"
At the next table, a man with gold-rimmed glasses who had been flirting with a bar hostess slammed his own table, rolled up his sleeves, and stood up, about to come over and start a fight.
Shane turned his head, his gaze cold.
"My apologies. Please, continue."
The man with the gold-rimmed glasses sat back down at lightning speed.
Junichi, however, realized his outburst had been inappropriate. He quickly stood up and bowed to all the other patrons who were looking their way.
After sitting back down, he lowered his head and didn't speak again, but his clenched fists were trembling slightly.
"..." Shane watched the frail boy silently for a moment, then suddenly spoke. "I need to confirm two things with you."
"Wh-what?" Junichi looked up, bewildered.
"The registration for the tournament closes tomorrow, right? When does it start, and how many days does it last?"
"It starts the day after tomorrow. As for the schedule..." Junichi shook his head. "There is no schedule. It's all decided on the same day. The preliminary rounds are in the morning, the semi-finals in the afternoon, and the finals are at night."
"So, it only takes up one day," Shane nodded. "Understood. Second question, the Sakuraba Dojo is still on the list of officially registered dojos, right? We can register directly?"
"Yes," Junichi said hesitantly. "Actually, I don't understand why the Seven Great Dojos haven't removed the Sakuraba name yet. Maybe they're afraid of the bad publicity, since the tournament was founded by my father..."
He suddenly realized something and looked up with a pleasantly surprised expression. "You, you mean, you're willing to lend me the money to register?"
"No."
Shane shook his head, then thought for a moment and added, "I can lend it to you, but my main point is that perhaps you could give me a spot as a disciple of the Sakuraba Dojo. Something like a vice-master. That way, I could also participate in this tournament."
"Eh? You?!!"
"What's with that doubtful look? Be careful, if I get unhappy, I might change my mind about lending you the money."
Shane placed his empty glass on the table, popped a slice of lemon in his mouth, stood up, and stretched lazily. With a grin, he said, "There's something I forgot to tell you."
"Actually, I also know a little swordsmanship."
Half an hour later, at the registration office.
Tucking a newly purchased standard kendo uniform and a brand-new bamboo sword under his arm, Shane put away his wallet with a pained expression. He handed one of each to Sakuraba Junichi.
"They're a real rip-off," Shane grumbled again on the way to the inn, cursing the Seven Great Dojos. "This fabric, this crappy sword... they didn't even shave the bamboo splinters off properly, and they dare to sell it for 15,000 Belli a set? Isn't this just a scam? Why are so many people still rushing to get slaughtered with such a high barrier to entry?"
The 50,000 Belli from Belle-mère was gone in an instant. If he didn't have some spare change he had saved up, they probably wouldn't even be able to afford an inn for the night and would have to sleep on the street together.
"The prize money is quite generous, after all. Besides, becoming the champion... no, even just reaching the semi-finals is a great honor for swordsmen in the East Blue," Junichi said, keeping pace right beside him. "Several local newspapers from the East Blue will be here. The champion will become famous overnight. Who doesn't dream of fame? However..."
"However what?" Shane stopped and turned to look at him.
"However, I'm still very doubtful that you're a real swordsman."
Junichi's tone was very sincere. "Mr. Shane... I'll call you that for now. Although I'm very grateful that you guided and comforted me, and even lent me such a large sum of money, you really don't look like a swordsman at all, do you? What kind of swordsman travels without carrying his own sword?"
My sword is in my inventory. You just can't see it, Shane grumbled to himself.
After getting the "Masamune," he had thrown away the small wooden sword. That thing was now shorter than his arm. Carrying it around would only make him look like a ridiculous clown.
"Your reason for doubt is valid."
Shane looked down at the skinny boy before him. "But I have a sword now, don't I?" He hefted the standard-issue bamboo sword in his hand and grinned. "How about we find an empty space and have a little practice?"