Chapter 14

As we waited for the women's team to arrive for our joint kendo practice, my mind wandered to the motorcycle my grandpa gave me. The motorcycle occupied my thoughts. Lost in my own world, a sudden slap on my back brought me back to reality.

The girls' team captain greeted us enthusiastically, but I was too absorbed in my thoughts to pay much attention. She started bragging about their new ace, and I found myself unintentionally in the spotlight.

The captain pointed at me, "And here's our ace, Will! He practically carried our team to victory by taking down three opponents."

The female captain joined in, "Our new member could probably handle the entire Kendo team by herself."

I chuckled nervously, "Well, teamwork makes the dream work, right? But, uh, yeah, kendo and stuff." The awkward banter continued as the captains exchanged playful boasts, turning a simple greeting into a comedic competition of words.

I suddenly found myself in full kendo gear, facing off against a girl from a renowned kendo dojo. The name was on the tip of my tongue—Busujima, that was it. Saya's dad mentioned it once. As we got into our stances, I couldn't help but wonder how this match would unfold.

The clang of bamboo against bamboo echoed in the air as we engaged in a spirited exchange. Each strike felt like a dance, a balance between offense and defense. I noticed her skilled maneuvers and quick reflexes, realizing that I needed to step up my game.

In the midst of the match, my mind raced. 'This girl's good. I can't underestimate her.' The crowd's cheers and the rhythmic clashing of shinai fueled our intensity. It was a tie, but the respect in her eyes told me it wasn't an easy feat.

As we caught our breath, we then looked at each other and see her smile at me then I awkwardly smiled back.

After the intense kendo match, the dojo buzzed with adrenaline . The dojo members exchanged congratulatory words, acknowledging the intensity of our duel. As the adrenaline began to subside, I found myself catching glimpses of Busujima's, who was talking to her teammates.

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In the months following the intense kendo match with Saeko, our sparring sessions became a regular occurrence. She even extended an invitation to her father's dojo, where our bouts took on a whole new level. Saeko's skill was undeniable, a true testament to her mastery of the sword. While I had been dubbed a prodigy, witnessing her prowess made me question the title.

Yet, there was something different about Saeko's approach. Her swordsmanship seemed to carry an edge, a purpose beyond the usual bounds of kendo. Each clash felt like a dance with danger, and her precision left an impression. What intrigued me more was the subtle, sadistic smile that adorned her face whenever our blades met. It was a secret observation, one I chose not to share with her.

Meeting her father only deepened the enigma. The man exuded an intimidating aura, and I could discern the echoes of Saeko's features in his stern countenance. It was clear she inherited her mother's genes, but she inherited her father's temperament.

As the school day concluded, Saeko awaited me at the gate, and together, we made our way to the train station. The rhythmic clatter of the train tracks accompanied our journey. 

We decided to take a detour through the park, seeking a change in scenery. The waning sunlight cast a warm hue on our surroundings, and the tranquil whispers of nature enveloped us. The park, usually a shortcut to the station, unfolded its serene beauty as the day gradually surrendered to dusk. The lengthening shadows hinted at the approaching nightfall, creating a serene backdrop for our stroll.

As we reached the the benches, I felt the need to use the bathroom. "I'll just hit the bathroom real quick," I mentioned to Saeko, excusing myself momentarily.

She responded with a warm smile, "Take your time, Will."

A few minutes later, I returned with an attempt at levity. "Did you miss me?" I quipped, only to be met with a jarring sight—a man on the ground, blood seeping from his head, and Saeko's practice sword stained crimson.

"What the... Saeko, what happened?" I stammered, the attempt at humor dissipating into the gravity of the scene.

Saeko, unfazed by fear but instead wearing a disquieting smirk, regarded the injured man.

Rallying my senses, I rushed to her side. "Are you okay? What the hell happened?"

Saeko snapped out of her disturbing trance, horror replacing the sadistic glee on her face.

"Saeko, talk to me. What went down here?" I pressed urgently.

As the realization set in, her expression twisted into one of sheer horror. "He cornered me against the wall, tried to... assault me. I saw an opening, so I struck him with my wooden sword," she confessed, her voice trembling with the weight of the revelation.

With a heavy breath, I dialed their number, unraveling the surreal events that unfolded in the quiet park. The distant wail of sirens grew louder, heralding the arrival of the police. 

As the flashing lights painted the scene in hues of red and blue, Saeko and I found ourselves seated in the stern gaze of law enforcement, recounting the gruesome episode. Saeko's words bore the weight of her harrowing encounter, and my own narrative unraveled the shocking discovery upon my return from the bathroom.

A middle aged officer, a stern but understanding figure, listened intently. "Alright, take your time. Start from the beginning," he encouraged.

Saeko, her voice steadying as she relived the ordeal, explained, "He cornered me against the wall, tried to... assault me. I saw an opening, so I struck him with my wooden sword."

I added the details of my own bewildering return to the scene, "I came back, after going to the bathroom and then... I saw it all. Blood everywhere."

The officers exchanged glances, and after a brief discussion, the officers turned to us. "Given the circumstances, we're releasing Saeko. We'll need more information later, but for now, we'll give you both a ride home."

Hours later, the patrol car pulled up in front of Saeko's residence. The air hung heavy with unspoken words as we stepped out, the officers offering somber nods.

"Thanks for the ride officers," I murmured, acknowledging the officers before turning my attention to Saeko, who still seemed lost in the aftermath.

Her home, felt eerily empty. Saeko stepped out of the car, her gaze distant. I followed in a silent escort, expressing gratitude to the officers before they departed into the night.

In the quietude of her home's emptiness, a palpable tension lingered, leaving me wondering about the shadows that loomed in the wake of that fateful park encounter.

The air in Saeko's home hung heavy with unspoken tension as we settled onto the couch, the silence echoing the uncharted territory we found ourselves in. Breaking the palpable quietude, Saeko's voice cut through the stillness.

"Will, your dad is probably worried about you. You should go home. I'm okay," she reassured, her words carrying a weight of consideration.

A subtle smile played on my lips as I shook my head. "It's fine. My dad's still working at this time," I replied, but as if to emphasize my point, my stomach chose that exact moment to growl audibly.

Caught off guard, Saeko chuckled softly. "I'll try cooking something for both of us," she declared, rising from the couch and heading to the kitchen. Instinctively, I followed, rolling up my sleeves.

"You know, I'm a cook myself," I mentioned casually, helping her gather pans and ingredients.

She was about to insist on taking charge, but my eagerness to contribute led her to reluctantly agree.

In the midst of preparing a humble yet comforting hamburger steak, Saeko attempted to breach the heavy atmosphere. After a few hesitations, she finally opened up.

"Will, to be honest, I wasn't really afraid when that man grabbed me."

A pause lingered in the air as I listened intently, waiting for her to unravel her thoughts.

"The moment I broke his shoulder blade and his femur, I felt joy. And I enjoyed it. I truly, truly enjoyed it. That is the real me! The true nature of Busujima Saeko!" she confessed, her eyes revealing a mixture of emotions.

I remained silent, absorbing her revelation, staring into the depths of her eyes. She continued, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Do you feel disillusioned that the perfect girl that I make myself to be shattered as you've seen the true me?"

Her smile, once confident, now carried a hint of uncertainty. The room seemed to contract around us, holding the weight of her confession. As I met her gaze, I spoke softly, "Honestly, Saeko, I kinda knew," I admitted, watching the shock ripple across her widened eyes.

Her attempt to interject was cut short as I pressed on, "Every time we fight, it's there in your eyes, the sadistic smile during our spars. It's like you wanted to harm me." Saeko opened her mouth to explain, but I continued, "I know you don't hate me. Well, maybe after our first few spars and a couple of bruises, but I didn't hate you. I'd even say good job for breaking the guy. If I were there, I would've whacked him in the balls, you know."

A chuckle escaped Saeko as she tried to suppress her amusement. "I'm just glad you're okay, Saeko," I added sincerely.

She buried her face behind my back, muffling her voice. "You don't care about me being an awful woman who likes seeing people get hurt."

"Well, at least don't hurt me too much," I teased, attempting to lighten the mood. "But just remember, Saeko, no matter how dirty your hands are, I'll always look up to you. I think you're the coolest girl I've ever met."

Saeko, her face still hidden, mumbled a soft "Thanks," her vulnerability momentarily breaking through the tough exterior she often projected. The air in her home began to shift, weaving a connection that transcended the unexpected events of the night.

As we sat down to our humble meal, the aroma of the freshly cooked hamburger steak wafted through the air, creating a sense of normalcy amidst the surreal events. The table, adorned with simple dishes, became the silent witness to the unspoken connection between Saeko and me.

The clinking of utensils and the occasional murmur of appreciation for the food replaced the need for words. In that shared silence, a certain comfort settled, a tacit acknowledgment that transcended spoken language. Each bite became a moment of understanding, a bridge between the chaotic reality and the solace found in the ordinary act of sharing a meal.