Chapter 37: Chapter 8.5: Way of the Sword (Backstory End) "Get ready, you bastard!" Kenji growled, and without hesitation, he lunged forward.
*WHOOOOSH!*
The strike came at Jin with surprising speed and intensity—a powerful overhead blow meant to finish the fight in one crushing strike. Kenji shouted his battle cry as he swung his wooden sword with raw power, showing his determination.
"YAHHHH!"
Jin sensed the danger before Kenji’s attack landed. Just seconds before Kenji brought down his weapon, Jin felt a strange tingle on his scalp and a buzz in his mind—his instincts screaming at him to move.
Without conscious thought, his body responded smoothly. He shifted his weight and prepared seamlessly. Instead of taking Kenji’s powerful strike directly, Jin lifted his bokken to block. With a quick twist of his sword, he deflected the blow at the last moment, sending Kenji’s weapon flying past where Jin had just been standing.
"Tch!" Kenji grunted in frustration, his eyes alight with fiery rage at having his attack so easily countered.
Despite the setback, Kenji was resilient, and his recovery was impressive. His sword skill was evident as he turned the mishap into a fluid motion, launching a flurry of fast, fierce strikes. His bokken became a blur, swinging across to target Jin’s ribs, firing quick jabs at his chest, and finishing with heavy overhead chops that looked devastating.
*WHOOSH-CRACK-SLAM!*
Each strike was infused with raw power and pinpoint precision, creating a relentless barrage meant to overwhelm his opponent. For most fighters, such an unyielding offense would be insurmountable.
For Jin, however, the chaos unfolded in slow motion. Time stretched and expanded as Kenji’s assaults crashed in like waves of rage, heightening Jin’s awareness in a surreal way. He could perceive more than just the sword; he discerned the intention behind each swing—a skeletal framework of purpose that seemed to rise invisibly from Kenji’s body before each strike, outlining direction and power.
With an agile swaying motion like a tree bending in wind, Jin narrowly evaded the horizontal slash that sliced through the air inches from him. The blade passed so close it sent his hair blowing in its wake, each strand captured in the golden afternoon light.
As Kenji followed with a direct thrust at his chest, Jin was already prepared. His bokken shifted into position with impossible speed, deflecting the attack harmlessly aside, sending it sliding diagonally past his shoulder, leaving him unscathed amidst Kenji’s fury.
Kenji’s frustration grew with each failed attack. He redoubled his efforts, movements becoming more aggressive, more telegraphed, yet somehow less effective. It was as if Jin were reading his mind, anticipating each strike before it fully formed.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as Jin moved with supernatural grace. His footwork was impeccable, each step precisely placed to maintain perfect balance while creating maximum distance with minimal effort. His bokken responded to Kenji’s attacks with minimal motion, yet each deflection was perfectly timed and positioned.
In a stunning display, Jin suddenly shifted from defense to offense. In one fluid motion, he flowed around Kenji’s latest overhead strike, his body moving in a tight arc that brought him within inches of his opponent. Before Kenji could react, Jin’s bokken tapped three precise points on Kenji’s body—wrist, elbow, and shoulder—in rapid succession.
Each tap was delivered with just enough force to disrupt Kenji’s balance and control, but not enough to cause injury. The precision was breathtaking—each movement executed with the exact amount of force needed.
Kenji stumbled backward, his offensive completely disrupted, his sword arm momentarily numb from the precise strikes to nerve clusters. His eyes widened in disbelief as he struggled to maintain his footing.
Jin didn’t press his advantage. Instead, he reset his stance, returning to the calm, centered position he had begun with. His bokken was held loosely at his side, ready but not threatening.
The courtyard fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by Kenji’s ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond the academy walls. The crowd watched in stunned awe, many recording the exchange with their devices, capturing what would undoubtedly become legendary footage at the Yamashiro Institute.
Kenji finally regained his footing, his face flushed with humiliation and rage. He could feel dozens of eyes boring into him, the silent judgment of his peers burning into his skin. With a guttural cry of frustration, he charged once more, abandoning all pretense of technique in favor of raw aggression.
But Jin was ready. As Kenji lunged forward, Jin sidestepped with impossible grace, his body moving like water around a rock. In one fluid motion, he brought his bokken up in a lightning-fast arc, tapping Kenji’s sword hand with surgical precision.
The effect was immediate. Kenji’s fingers went numb, his grip loosening involuntarily. The bokken slipped from his grasp, clattering to the gravel at Jin’s feet.
Kenji stood frozen, his hand outstretched, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. The reality of his defeat was undeniable, etched in the wooden sword lying at his opponent’s feet.
Jin picked up both bokkens, holding them out to Kenji hilt-first. His expression remained calm, almost gentle, yet there was an undeniable authority in his posture that commanded respect.
"The match is over," Jin said quietly, his voice carrying clearly through the silent courtyard. "Your skill is impressive, Kenji-san. But anger clouds judgment and weakens technique."
He offered the wooden swords back to Kenji, his gesture one of respect rather than triumph. The crowd erupted into murmurs of awe and admiration, witnessing not just a victory, but a masterclass in the art of the sword.
Kenji accepted the weapons with hands that trembled slightly, his eyes unable to meet Jin’s calm gaze. The humiliation was palpable, yet there was something else there too—a dawning realization of the true depth of skill he had just witnessed.
As the crowd began to disperse, still buzzing with excitement, Jin stood alone in the courtyard, the setting sun casting long shadows across the gravel. The transformation was complete—the kind, clumsy boy was gone, replaced by someone who commanded respect through quiet confidence and undeniable skill.
Kenji stood frozen, his eyes wide in disbelief. For the first time in their duel, his cocky attitude slipped away, and he panted heavily from exhaustion. He looked like a seventeen-year-old just beginning to realize how big and complicated life truly is.
"Are you alright, Shimazu-san?" Jin asked softly, genuine concern in his voice.
Kenji’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He harshly shoved Jin’s offered hand away and stormed off without another word, his friends scurrying to collect his bokken, keeping their heads low and silent.
As Jin watched him leave, his shoulders sagged. Despite winning the spar, he didn’t feel victorious. All he had wanted was peace, but it seemed he had only deepened the conflict. With a heavy sigh, he reflected on the situation.
A soft voice cut through the chatter of the crowd.
"He did it again after his match with Park Jimin," murmured Lucien Moreau, adjusting the cybernetic device behind his left ear. Data flickered across his lenses. "No wasted motion... his balance is extraordinary."
Arjun Kapoor crossed his arms and nodded slowly. "That’s... impressive."
Mina Saito, standing nearby, wore an unreadable expression as she adjusted her bokken on her shoulder, eyes fixed intently on Jin without blinking.
"His center of gravity stayed stable," she observed quietly. "Even while defending."
Ayane Nakamura stood near the garden stairs, clutching her tablet with wide eyes. "That was... incredible," she whispered to herself.
Students nearby whispered among themselves. Some watched with admiration, others seemed uneasy, and a few were clearly jealous.
Where Kenji had just stood, Jin gave a small bow to the empty space before placing his wooden sword on the rack and blending back into the crowd, moving along as if nothing had happened.
The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the glass buildings, signaling that classes would resume soon. The hallways buzzed with lively chatter.
As students in uniforms filled the corridors of the Yamashiro Institute, conversation shifted to holo-diplomacy competitions, simulation scores, and stock prices—all connected to Jin.
Wandering through the crowd of students and glass-fronted lecture halls, soft whispers trailed behind him. Their hushed tones, slightly muffled by coffee cups and earpieces, weren’t loud or mean-spirited.
"Was that really just a wooden sword?"
"He didn’t even swing that hard..."
"Did you see Shimazu? He’s still shaking!"
"Where did he learn to fight like this?"
Jin kept walking, his school bag slung over one shoulder, deliberately avoiding eye contact. He felt awkward about the attention he hadn’t sought, but not because he was ashamed.
𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢 He was halfway down the spiral corridor when someone matched his pace.
"Jin-kun," came a familiar voice, warm but cautious.
He turned to find Ayane Nakamura with her shoulder-length black hair in a low ponytail, her expression a blend of relief and mild reproach.
"Oh... Nakamura-san," he replied with an awkward smile. "Good afternoon."
"Good?" she shot back, surprised. "You just sparred with one of the top students here, and you greet me like you just woke up?"
Jin rubbed the back of his neck, feeling flustered. "Well, to be honest, I wish I had just woken up from a bad dream instead of going through that. I really didn’t want to fight, but... I didn’t have a choice, you know?"
Ayane stopped in front of him, her frown gentle but firm. "You were incredible out there. But are you okay? He said some terrible things about your mother."
Jin’s expression softened at the mention of his mother. "I’m fine, really. It’s just... when he brought her into it, I couldn’t let that slide. She gave up everything for me. Everything. The least I can do is defend her honor, even if it means breaking my own rules about fighting."
Ayane watched him intently. He still seemed like Jin—his kind demeanor, that slightly oversized blazer, his genuine, bright eyes, and the small scratches on his knuckles. But for a quick moment back in the courtyard, he felt like a totally different person.
"You really don’t realize how intimidating you can be when you get serious, do you?" she remarked, crossing her arms.
Jin blinked in surprise. "Intimidating? Me? That’s... not something I hear often. Usually people just think I’m quiet or awkward."
Ayane smiled, a mix of affection and exasperation. "It’s not a bad thing. Just... don’t lose that softness, alright? That’s part of who you are."
He looked away, feeling a slight blush creep onto his cheeks. "I don’t think I could, even if I tried. Sometimes I wish I could be a bit tougher, though. Life would be simpler maybe."
She nudged him playfully with her elbow. "Come on, hero. Class is starting soon. If we’re late, Sensei Kuroda will make us do hand calisthenics while going over quantum harmonics."
Jin groaned dramatically. "Ugh... I’d rather face Shimazu again. At least with him, I only have to worry about physical pain, not my brain melting trying to understand quantum mechanics while doing finger exercises."
Ayane laughed at his exaggerated misery. "It’s not that bad! Besides, I heard Kuroda-sensei is bringing in the new neural interface demo today. It’s supposed to be amazing."
Jin’s eyes lit up with interest. "Really? I read about that in the tech journal. The one that translates brain waves directly into holographic projections?"
"That’s the one! Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll let us try it." Ayane’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Jin found himself smiling genuinely.
"Now that would make the hand calisthenics worth it," he admitted.
As they walked side by side, their conversation lightened the atmosphere, even as more sets of curious eyes followed Jin’s retreating figure. Jin seemed more relaxed now, his shoulders less tense as he engaged in the easy back-and-forth with Ayane.
"You know," Jin said after a moment, "I was thinking about what you said earlier. About me being intimidating."
"Oh? What about it?" Ayane prompted, turning to look at him.
"I just... I don’t see myself that way at all. When I’m practicing or in a situation like today, I’m not thinking about being intimidating. I’m just... focused. Trying to do what’s right, what needs to be done. It’s strange to think that comes across as intimidating to others."
Ayane considered his words thoughtfully. "Maybe that’s exactly why it is intimidating. You’re not trying to be anything other than yourself. There’s an authenticity to it that people can sense. It’s different from Kenji, who tries so hard to project power that it comes across as desperate."
Jin nodded slowly. "I never thought of it that way. I just try to stay true to what my mother taught me. To be honorable, to respect others, but also to stand up for what’s right."
"She sounds like an amazing woman," Ayane said softly.
"She is," Jin replied, his voice filled with warmth. "The best. Everything good in me comes from her."
They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the corridor.
"Hey, Jin-kun?" Ayane said suddenly.
"Yeah?"
"Would you... would you be willing to help me with something after class? I’m having trouble with the combat simulation programming, and I thought... well, with your understanding of movement and timing, you might have some insights."
Jin’s face brightened. "I’d be happy to help! I’m not great with the technical side of things, but if it’s about movement patterns or combat dynamics, I might be able to contribute something useful."
"Great! Thank you so much!" Ayane’s relief was evident. "I’ve been stuck on this particular algorithm for days."
As they approached their classroom, Jin felt a sense of normalcy returning. The confrontation with Kenji still weighed on him, but this conversation with Ayane reminded him of why he was at the Yamashiro Institute—not to prove himself to others, but to learn and grow, and perhaps to make a few friends along the way.
"Just so you know," Jin said with a small smile as they reached the classroom door, "if Kuroda-sensei does make us do those hand exercises while explaining quantum harmonics, I’m blaming you."
Ayane laughed. "Fair enough. But if he lets us try the neural interface, you owe me a bento from the cafeteria."
"Deal," Jin agreed, his smile widening as they entered the classroom together.