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PART 2
That night, when he arrived late to his night training, Zenjoh and Munakata were already in the dojo. As always, Zenjoh sat inside while Munakata sat at the window, facing away from each other, but when Kusuhara entered, the tension eased.
The reason Kusuhara was late was because he had gone to get a personal item of Munakata’s that was being kept in the old file room. It was a small but heavy cloth bag, similar to a sandbag. The contents were a custom-made, 10,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. Completed, it took up the s.p.a.ce of two whole tatami.[1]
“I can’t really spread out large things in my office.”
And so for that reason, he left it in the old file room during the day and had Kusuhara bring it to the dojo at night. Kusuhara took out and lined up a few put-together pieces in a corner of the room, and placed the remaining separated pieces in a pile on the floor next to it. The design was “a blue sky.” Attached to the instruction booklet inside the bag was a picture of the completed picture, which was a cloudless, blue sky.
“It’s ready.”
“Thank you.”
Once the normal preparation was done, Munakata switched places with Kusuhara and continued the puzzle. First, he carefully adjusted the placement of the completed pieces, then took a handfull of pieces from the pile, picked out one and carefully observed it with narrowed eyes. Then, slowly, he placed it in one place on the floor. Sometimes, he would place a piece together with one he’d placed down earlier and they would fit together perfectly, but for the most part pieces were left placed individually on the floor. Basically… Munakata wasn’t putting them in place by trial and error, but in one go. Piece by piece -- he was putting the pieces down on the floor using an invisible guideline.
Kusuhara wasn’t particularly versed in puzzles, but he thought as he watched Munakata crouched on the floor, There isn’t anyone else who does it like that.
“There’s nothing strange about this, Kusuhara-kun,” Munakata spoke, continuing to work. “If the edge of the piece is cut in a straight line, then it’s a piece on the edge of the puzzle. If there’s a part of an eye or nose on the piece, then it’s a piece that belongs on a face. Or, if there’s part of a letter on it, then it must belong on a book or sign. Besides that, there are countless other bits of information - the size of the piece itself, the shape, the cut pattern, arrangement, the ink on the front, the indentations on the back - that you can logically make up for.”
“Huh…”
“If you look at the parts, you can see the whole… That is all.”
-- So basically, he already sees the completed picture from the beginning, Kusuhara thought. It most likely didn’t just apply to puzzles. The structure within Scepter 4 as well as in other societies, and what sort of actions he should take such places that had to do with him… He understood all things like that on a level beyond anyone else. It was though the entire world sat on the palm of his hand…
-- He is scary.
What Kusuhara thought as “scary” wasn’t his impression towards Munakata’s sharp intellect. He had tenacity that, though he already knew the “completed image,” he didn’t lose interest in the puzzle, would lead him to spend tens of hours on a 10,000 piece puzzle with his own hands. What Kusuhara found scary was his sense of finding the fun in “knowingly acting.”
-- If I made an enemy out of him…
Having his destiny decades in the future seen right though, then made off with and to be chased knowingly into the abyss of destruction… Kusuhara’s body s.h.i.+vered lightly as he imagined that.
“Am I that frightening?” Munakata said, without looking up.
“Hu-- What!?” Suddenly called out, Kusuhara stood at attention. And, “...Yes. ...A little,” he said.
“An honest one, you are.” There was slight laughter in Munakata’s voice. “To be fearful of those different from you is a normal human emotion… I’m also afraid of people like you, and like Zenjoh-san.”
“Uh…” I understand Zenjoh-san, but, “...Me too?”
“Yes. So please, scare me more.” Munakata looked up, and pointed his eyes towards the inside of the dojo.
“Huh? Oh… Yes.” Kusuhara hurriedly left Munakata’s side and took his place roughly in the middle of the two, and began his training.
Kusuhara’s training used the fencing method as a base. When he was first appointed as Zenjoh’s “disciple,” he expected to be taught his style of draw and other techniques, but he refused - “Nah… My style’s not something I learned from someone else. And it’s not something I can teach others.” It wasn’t of a “something-style” system, but apparently just his own technique, mastered. Therefore, Zenjoh’s advice to him was, “You, too, should forge your own style.”
So what Kusuhara thought was, “Let’s try the fencing method like how Zenjoh-san would do it.”
He would first recall what he observed of Zenjoh’s bearing during the day. All he could ever remember was the incredible draw with exploding power, but his regular movements were, rather, calm and slow. Like a large carnivore carrying his weight gracefully, one movement led to the next, and to the next. As he kept that in mind as he worked through the method, his movements changed from ambiguous pauses from commands to something like an aimlessly spinning dance. He thought it was something like old people practicing tai chi in a park.
He understood something while he did that.
He had conflicting impressions of Zenjoh’s “explosive draw” and “slow movements,” but they probably should be thought of as one and the same. They were movements, basically, for “a full-power attack at any moment.” In the normal fencing method, after the swing of the sword and the hold of the position, there was a s.p.a.ce of a single breath before the next movement. An enemy attack in that s.p.a.ce would even seal the “demon draw” of the beastly instinct in the same moment. And so, slow movements would eliminate that s.p.a.ce.
As such, the man named Zenjoh Goki moved so that in the next moment he would be able to unleash his most powerful attack - in battle, in training, and even in daily life.
When he realized that, he felt a s.h.i.+ver shoot up his back.
-- Zenjoh-san is incredible.
And,
-- Alright, me too…
Keeping Zenjoh in mind, he adopted those movements as his own. In these past few weeks, those movements were turning into something that only belonged to him, different from both the regular fencing method and Zenjoh’s actions.
...And today, regulating his posture and breathing, he repeated his “Kusuhara-style Fencing Method” over and over. He at first felt Zenjoh’s and Munakata’s presence, but eventually even forgot about those, and went from the first form to the second, to the third - when he’d finished all five forms, and came back down, Munakata’s voice came from behind him.
“--Kusuhara-kun. How is your match with Awas.h.i.+ma-kun going?”
“Huh?” He was suddenly pulled back into reality from a state of no-mindedness in practice.”Um… This week was no good, either.”
“I see,” Munakata said, examining the piece he had in his hand. “...Though I’ve heard you’ve gotten to quite a good place.”
“Ah… I wonder.”
“However, you lack spirit… Or rather, it seems you’ve taken comfort in this place.”
“Ah.”
“...Zenjoh-san?” When Munakata called out suddenly to him, Zenjoh’s body sitrred. “Don’t you think it’s about time to let Kusuhara-kun go?”
“Uh…” Zenjoh answered vaguely, and Munakata continued talking.
“Well then, let’s decide a deadline - one more week.”
“Uh… What?” Kusuhara responded with a cry.
“The joint training next week will be your last chance. If you don’t hit Awas.h.i.+ma-kun with your training sword at your next faceoff, Kusuhara-kun, I will advise you quit on the grounds that you are unfit as a member of Scepter 4,” Munakata condemned, a slight smile on his face.
†
“Pardon my intrusion. Please put away my puzzle,” Munakata said, and left the dojo.
Kusuhara stood standing and staring, his words seemingly not reaching his ears, and he finally murmured, “One more week.”
Defeat Lieutenant Awas.h.i.+ma in one more week.
What should he do? What could he do to beat her? Nothing came to mind. Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t that he’d done anything these past three weeks. All he did was randomly imitate Zenjoh. When Munakata had said, “You don’t have enough spirit,” it was probably true. Spending his days at Zenjoh’s side wasn’t unpleasant. He’d sort of thought that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were to continue his daily routine like this.
It was though cold water had been poured over him. Though he had been told to “defeat the Lieutenant,” he had done nothing to accomplish that. His punishment for his indolence had just been handed down to him.
“Um… What should I do…?” he asked Zenjoh nervously.
“Hm.” Zenjoh took his sword in his hand and stood up. It was already time to stop for the night. “Continue as usual.”
“Ah… okay.”
It probably meant “This has nothing to do with me,” but when Zenjoh said it, he calmed. There was no point in getting worked up about it now. All he could do now was do what he could, little by little. Kusuhara took the basic stance of the fencing method.And--
Like a looming black wall before him, Zenjoh stood in front of him.
“Continue.”
“...Yes.” Kusuhara began the method that he had arranged. The tension he felt in front of Zenjoh’s huge presence was well-sharpened in his swordsmans.h.i.+p.
One, two, three, four - in the breaths between the slow movements of the training sword, Zenjoh suddenly stuck his sheath in.
“!?”
For a moment, he thought he was going to disarm him, but Zenjoh’s sheath touched Kusuhara’s shoulder, without impeding his movements, and supported him. And then, his sword moved faster than normal, and the connection between movements changed a little. They were faster, more smooth…
“Huh…”
“Keep going,” Zenjoh said again, and Kusuhara nodded.
One movement, another movement. Kusuhara swung his sword, and changed his steps. Again, Zenjoh changed his own form to match Kusuhara’s movements while correcting them. There was no s.p.a.ce for him to stop and stand or take a breath. Before he knew it, Kusuhara became drenched in sweat, and a few droplets fell to the floor.
As he continued his quick-paced training with all his might, the five styles and the 40 forms of the fencing method changed, fused, and were once again broken down.
That day’s evening training continued until sunrise, and it continued the next day, and the day after that, only broken up in between by work during the day.
That was when Hidaka and the others paid a visit to the old file room.
“Yo, we’re here for the so-- Hey, where’s Kusuhara?” Hidaka looked around, and found Kusuhara asleep on the hard floor, still in his uniform. “Hey, what’re we gonna do with you?” he said, somehow happily. Then,
“If you need something from him, I’ll relay the message…” Zenjoh said.
“Nah, we just came to see him!” Hidaka gave a casual bow and turned on his heel.
“Um… Zenjoh-san, thanks for taking care of Kusuhara.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Enomoto and Fuse both lowered their heads, and behind them,
“...I brought shrimp tempura!”
“Hey… Man, that’s not what we’re talking about at all!” Hidaka teased Gotoh.
...And then, the last night before the joint practice.
With Zenjoh’s support, Kusuhara’d gone through the fencing method countless times, and he’d sweated so much all over that his dogi practically clung to his body. But his strength and vitality had mysteriously recharged, and his senses were sharper than they had ever been before. He even felt every sign - the night wind blowing through the wheat, the single smile Munakata left after he’d come to check up on him, and even the tiniest movements Zenjoh made in front of him.
-- I think I can actually get somewhere with Lieutenant Awas.h.i.+ma this time. Just when Kusuhara thought that--
Suddenly, Zenjoh’s sheath flew, hitting Kusuhara square in the right foot with the point.
“Ow!!” He unconsciously fell on his rear, and looked up at Zenjoh as he stroked his hurt foot.“What are you doing, Zenjoh-san…!”
Zenjoh nodded slightly and said, “That’s all for today.”
The next day was Kusuhara’s Judgment Day.
“Lieutenant! One match please!” He called out to Awas.h.i.+ma, and as always, took their places for a one-on-one match.
-- My path is going to be decided with this match.
Lieutenant Awas.h.i.+ma may or may not have known that. If she did know, then she probably wouldn’t go easy on him.
From the troops that gathered around them came the heckling voices of Hidaka and Fuse.
“--Kusuhara, go for it!”
“Hold out just a little longer this time!”
Gotoh and Enomoto exchanged looks. “Hey… Isn’t he dragging his foot?”
“Oh… You’re right.”
There was a bit of discomfort left on the foot that Zenjoh had hit. When Kusuhara asked why Zenjoh had done that this morning and the night before, all he would say was, “Good luck in your match,” and didn’t tell him the reason. At any rate, he didn’t think that his foot would be a good excuse to Munakata. All he could do was go up against Awas.h.i.+ma with all he had.
He stepped two, three times in his spot with his foot. He should be okay… maybe.
Readied, they faced each other.
“Alright.”
Awas.h.i.+ma’s words acted as the signal for the start of the match.
Kusuhara held his sword in front of him and observed her. The point of the bamboo sword facing him moved slightly. It was the feint to bring out his rush. He’d been fooled by it many times. He knew, but his body responded anyway. And today, too--
“Yaa!” Kusuhara burst forward with a yell. It was the same counter-attack pattern. But--
-- Ow…!
When Kusuhara lunged forward with his right foot, he couldn’t endure the pain and his body fell forward.
“...!?” Awas.h.i.+ma jumped back reflexively. But Kusuhara’s bamboo sword extended further than his usual timing and movements towards her bosom.
For a second, the tip sunk into her chest.
Dodging, she unwittingly pressed her left breast with her right hand.
The troops stirred.
“Yeeaaah! You got her t.i.ts!” Hidaka yelled, but shut his mouth when she glared at him.
“Ow, ouch…!” Unable to stand the pain in his foot, he took two, three steps, then fell to his knees. Awas.h.i.+ma approached him.
“Stand, Kusuhara.”
“Ah… Ma’am!” Kusuhara hurriedly stood, and Awas.h.i.+ma switched her sword to her left hand, then bowed. “Huh…?”
“I have failed,” she said, a large, yet bitter smile on her face. “That hit… was light, but most definitely connected.”
†
The Scepter 4 troops’ dorm bath could accommodate, at the most, around ten people. From the evening until lights out, the troops that lived in the dorms hastily bathed in rotation, by section. Zenjoh Goki would enter the empty bath once that had all finished. The s.p.a.ce was empty, but left the faint trace of enthusiasm and clamor of a hundred troops who’d washed off the day’s sweat and dirt.
Kusuhara had accompanied him this past month, but since he’d safely completed his a.s.signment, he would have a new position at the beginning of the week and would no longer be “out of rotation.” In the end, Kusuhara was another young man who would simply pa.s.s by Zenjoh’s side.
“...I’ll wash your back,” Kusuhara said to Zenjoh, who was was.h.i.+ng himself with one hand.
“Ah, thanks.” Zenjoh turned his back to him, and Kusuhara began to scrub his back with a towel.
“Zenjoh-san.”
“Hm?”
“Um… Thank you for teaching me so much all this time.”
“...Well, I didn’t teach you anything,” Zenjoh answered. The only thing that resembled training had happened over the last week, and everything else was just Kusuhara swinging his sword around himself.
“...Now that you mention it, that might be true.” Zenjoh smiled wryly at Kusuhara’s honest answer. But, “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” he explained himself hurriedly. “I feel like Director Munakata didn’t tell me to learn from something taught by you.”
“Hm?”
“Look carefully, watch and learn… He said something like that.”
“...I see.”
“Yes, for example,” Kusuhara said, scrubbing Zenjoh’s wall-like back, “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but your back.”
“...No, I don’t know anything about my back. What is it?”
“Of course.” This time Kusuhara smiled wryly. “Your back is very muscular… Especially from your spine and to the right.”
“...Huh, I see.” That much was obvious, since he never used his left arm.
“This is basically all what you’ve built since you lost your left hand… Right?”
“...Huh.” He had thought that time had stopped moving within him these past ten years. However, it was possible that there were things that had acc.u.mulated in places that he couldn’t see, when he wasn’t noticing.
After a pause, Kusuhara spoke. “Um… When I first met you, I was a bit fl.u.s.tered.”
“Fl.u.s.tered…?”
“Up until last year, I was a part of the riot police… But because of me, one of my seniors got seriously injured and had to quit…” Kusuhara spoke slowly, choosing his words. “That was an incident involving superpowereds, so I thought this could be like, amends… I thought that there was something I could do, so I joined Scepter 4, but that wasn’t going so well…”
“And so that left you fl.u.s.tered…”
“Yes. I essentially thought I could take back my failure… But this past month, watching your back, I thought that, maybe, that’s not what it is.”
“Hm…?”
“Looking at your back, I’ve thought… That you can’t take back what you’ve lost, but people can grow again from there.”
“...I see. Now that you say that--”
-- I feel like I can be saved.
Just as Zenjoh was about to say that, there came the clattering sound of the bath door opening.
“Pardon me.”
The one who spoke and entered was the Director, Munakata Reisi. His faintly-muscled, tall body slid through the steam like a white snake.
“...Kusuhara-kun, I heard about this afternoon.”
“Ah, yes…”
“Heheh… To think you would actually be able to strike Awas.h.i.+ma-kun.”
“Huh… But, you said, if you don’t, you’re fired…”
Munakata answered a dumbfounded Kusuhara with a sly smile. “Zenjoh-san’s instruction was also splendid,” Munakata said, facing Zenjoh. “Extending the reach and speed of a hit by relaxing the forward foot and falling into the opponent - there is a skill like that in old-style swordsmans.h.i.+p.”
“I don’t know it as a skill… But I do know that’s something you can do,” Zenjoh answered.
“Huh…” Kusuhara looked at his still-bruised foot.
-- If that’s true, then he should have said something to me…
By both the threat of being fired and his foot, he felt like he was being tricked by these people. However,
“No, Kusuhara-kun. Had this been explained to you beforehand, you would have been conscious of it, and Awas.h.i.+ma-kun may have realized what you were doing. It was good that you weren’t aware of it,” Munakata said. “Yes. Unconscious response - that is your natural gift.”
“Unconscious…?”
“Breaking designated rhythm and being easily tricked by feints are all a part of that. However, if that technique can surpa.s.s the opponent’s response, then you can take what happens afterwards… In summary, it’s a talent that is fit for instantaneous offense and defense.”
-- I see…
He was always aware that he was easily led on by tricks, but he had never thought of it as talent.
“Use your talent to watch my back.”
“Uh… Y-Yes!”
Kusuhara bowed deeply to Munakata, completely naked and still sitting on a bath stool.
Munakata smiled bitterly at that, then said, “Well then, starting now… To begin with, why don’t you wash off my back?”
“Eh…” Kusuhara instinctively looked at Zenjoh, and Zenjoh nodded. “Yes!” And he faced Munakata’s back.
Zenjoh washed off the bubbles of soap and submerged himself in the bathtub.
Then, he gazed towards a nervous Kusuhara who was facing Munakata’s back.
Munakata’s white, supple back was, in a sense, a blank sheet of paper. Who was this man, and what was he going to achieve? That was something he wasn’t going to worry himself about. That was something that the young troops like Kusuhara were to decide as they looked at his back.
Before he realized it, he felt as though the baggage he’d been carrying all these years had been let down from his shoulders. Or maybe Kusuhara had washed it off a few moments before.
“My, you’re smiling, Zenjoh-san,” Munakata said, without turning around.
And Zenjoh answered, “It’s a nice bath.”
†
One week later, Kusuhara Takeru died on duty.
Translator notes -
[1]: About 3.3 square meters, or 35.5 square feet.