Hearing the captain's pitiful scream, Kazuma straightened his face and barked, "Crying out while wearing armor? Too soft!"
He nearly followed it up with "What are you, in the navy?"—an old joke among military buffs from his past life, poking fun at the historical rivalry between Japan's army and navy.
Off to the side, Mikako suddenly giggled. "Kazuma, you really sound like a proper shihan-dai now! You've got the vibe!"
"What do you mean, 'sound like'? I am the shihan-dai of the Kiryu Dojo."
Feigning annoyance, Kazuma shot her a glare.
Mikako stuck out her tongue playfully.
Captain Sakamoto asked, "Can I resume my attack?"
"Go ahead!" Kazuma turned back to him.
And so, the entire afternoon passed in a most delightful flurry of smacking people around—Kazuma's ideal way to blow off the stress he'd been accumulating since his transmigration.
After all, he was technically "instructing" them. He got to beat them up, and they still had to thank him for it. The perfect stress reliever.
By the time he'd finished sparring with all the starting members, Kazuma was shouldering Mikako's bamboo sword, thinking contentedly: Now this is what a transmigrator protagonist should be doing.
Maybe the guy who sent me here had forgotten about me until now—finally remembered to give me a protagonist buff?
He even found himself wondering if he should go dig up that bald yakuza's severed finger, toss it onto the executive's desk at Sumitomo Construction.
Who knows, the exec might just drop to his knees on the spot and offer an inflated price for the dojo.
But in the end, Kazuma figured it was best not to push his luck—unless he later saw clear proof that he'd suddenly been blessed with protagonist perks. Like discovering some cool "skill card" during meditation or something.
I mean, come on. I'm a real transmigrator, from the magical year 2020, living a second life—and no skills at all? That's just unfair.
Given the time-travel aspect, even a "Traveler Out of Time" title would make sense, wouldn't it?
But so far—nothing. Even if he had a system, it didn't give attribute points. Experience had to be earned by risking his neck. And to farm it fast, he'd have to hum battle songs while fighting.
Man, why is there such a gap between me and other transmigrators?
As Kazuma mused over his lackluster transmigration perks, Mikako came over and patted him on the shoulder. "So... you're done instructing the boys?"
"Ah, yeah. It was a blast—er, I mean, it felt good to teach."
Chiyoko frowned. "'Teach'? That's a Chinese expression, isn't it?"
Indeed, until the Meiji Restoration, it had been common in Japan to use Chinese phrases. Scholars prided themselves on knowing Chinese, even writing letters in formal Chinese.
That trend collapsed after the First Sino-Japanese War, but even now, using Chinese idioms was still seen as cultured.
Kazuma had spoken instinctively. He was surprised Mikako even recognized the phrase.
Guess she's got some culture in her after all.
Kazuma gave her a fresh once-over—only to find Mikako scrutinizing him in return.
"You… fluent in English, now spouting Chinese idioms... What exactly happened to you over winter break?"
"I just picked it up from some professor's TV ramblings," Kazuma dodged smoothly.
"And the English?"
"I've always been good at English. I was just pretending otherwise before." Kazuma was starting to sweat a little. So far, Mikako hadn't noticed the soul swap because his current personality was so similar to the original. But if she really pressed, there'd be lots of things he couldn't explain.
Fortunately, though suspicious, Mikako didn't pursue it. Instead, she changed the subject: "Alright, I'll go with that. Now, you're done with the boys—time to coach me. You promised to demo that thrust in slow motion."
Only then did Kazuma remember. Right... I got so caught up sparring that I completely forgot.
Since he'd promised, he had to follow through. Kazuma carefully thought through how to adjust the movement, then began demonstrating.
"Watch closely. You need to do this..."
He ran through his modified technique.
Good—he didn't trigger the sword skill this time. Looked like this method was safe.
Mikako watched intently. As soon as he finished, she began imitating the move. "Like this... and then..."
"Stop!" Kazuma interrupted, stepping in to adjust her form. "Spread your legs a bit more, lower your center of gravity. You'll need to step continuously—unstable footing will throw you off."
Mikako obediently let him guide her, like a life-sized doll.
Her cheeks flushed slightly—probably from the post-lunch nutrients kicking in.
"Alright, that's your starting stance. Now step forward..." Kazuma continued coaching her, hands-on.
Just then, Daimon Gorō came over. "Kiryu! Don't teach them techniques that aren't part of proper kendo!"
Kazuma replied, "As long as the power doesn't match what I used earlier, it should be fine as a standard competition move, right?"
"But how will you defend against it? Have you considered the starting distance in matches? You'd get hit before launching the move." Daimon scolded seriously. Then, softening slightly, he added, "Of course, if you're as fast as you were earlier, you could land it first—but in kendo, speed and power go hand in hand. If it's strong enough to break a bamboo sword, the judges will definitely call a foul!"
Kazuma scratched his head.
He glanced at Mikako, then leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Tomorrow morning, Daimon-sensei will be stationed at the gate and won't see morning practice. I'll teach you then."
Mikako grinned, about to reply, when Daimon's cold voice cut in. "You're not allowed to teach it during morning practice either! The district prelims are coming up—we've no time for side techniques. Teach her something useful."
Kazuma immediately nodded. "Understood! I'll teach proper techniques."
Satisfied, Daimon turned to inspect the other members' practice, but suddenly paused and glanced back. "Also—stick to teaching kendo. No other 'useful' things."
Feigning innocence, Kazuma asked, "Other things?"
Mikako chimed in brightly, "Does English count?"
Daimon huffed and ignored their antics, striding off toward the other members with his usual commanding presence.
Kazuma and Mikako exchanged glances.
Mikako was the first to laugh.
Her round face didn't fit the slender-face ideal often favored, but with her little canine teeth showing and that cute, cheerful smile, she looked utterly charming.
In no time, afternoon practice came to an end. Kazuma finished with a brief meditation, checking his status.
As expected—no new real combat experience gained.
Honestly, aside from relieving stress and getting some quality time with Mikako, he hadn't gained much today.
Damn it, this won't do, Kazuma thought. I need to lure some students to the dojo and charge tuition. At least that'd give me income until I sell the place.
If the dojo had more students, the yakuza would think twice before making a move.
Especially if they were boys—if the yakuza tried kidnapping them, Kazuma would just call the cops and wash his hands of it.
Just then, Mikako came over with her things. "I can't walk home with you today—my mom's picking me up. Kazuma, I hope everything with your family gets sorted soon. When it does, I'll sign up at your dojo."
If it gets sorted, I won't have a dojo left... Kazuma thought ruefully. Out loud, he smiled. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Mikako nodded. "Well, I'm off. Bye-bye!"
She raised her hand and gave him a light wave.
Then, with a little skip, she ran off.
Kazuma clicked his tongue—Just a wave? I was half hoping for a goodbye kiss or something.
But then again, this was the '80s. Tokyo wasn't as bold as it would be in later years, and girls still leaned toward the traditional yamato nadeshiko ideal.
Shouldering his gear, Kazuma left the kendo hall in good spirits—refreshed from both the stress relief and his interactions with the cute girl.
Next, he had to go pick up Chiyoko. Then they'd head to the shopping street for groceries.
Given their financial state, it'd either be fish or curry tonight—whichever was cheaper.
Sigh... I wonder how long it'll be before I can afford real top-tier Japanese cuisine. Like proper kaiseki...
As a bona fide foodie from his past life, Kazuma swallowed his drool and left the dojo.
(End of Chapter)