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thefinalcinderella · 1 year

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 1 - Eccentrics (Part 2)

Kuon Takumi making a strong argument for bringing back the guillotine~~

The translation notes in this chapter...bro...if anything doesn’t make sense, please let me know

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Sessha (拙者) is an archaic pronoun used by samurai

2. The Sanjuusangen-dou is a Buddhist Temple in Kyoto

3. A kamidana is a miniature household altar

4. These are puns (thanks Seiya). In Japanese, it’s “待つだけうめえ” which also sounds like “松竹梅”, which are pine, bamboo, and plum. The other one is 六つのひょうたんで無病息災”. The 無病 (mubyou) also sounds like “six gourds.”

5. Rokumeikan was a symbol of Westernization during the Meiji period, commissioned for the housing of foreign guests

6. Haikara refers to dressing in the Western style especially during the Meiji era. Haikara-san refers to the protagonist of the shojo manga series, Haikara-san ga Tooru, who wears a blue hakama, arrow-patterned kimono, and a large ribbon in her hair.

7. The text in my book reads ポールダンス which means pole dancing but I’m pretty sure it’s actually referring to ballroom dancing

8. Kuon’s name contains the character for beauty, 美

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First target/Oomae: Onogi Kaito (second year) - seven hits

Second target /Nakamae: Yamanouchi Ryouhei (second year) - six hits

Third target/Naka: Takehaya Seiya (second year) - eight hits

Fourth target/Ochimae: Kanbayashi Hikaru (first year) - six hits

Fifth target/Ochi: Narumiya Minato (second year) - seven hits

Reserve: Kisaragi Nanao (second year) - five hits

Himuro Arata (first year) - five hits

Everyone’s gazes were focused on the ochimae. A reality that no one had ever expected was there.

Kanbayashi pressed Tommy-sensei for an answer.

“I really can’t be one of the starters! I’m okay today, but I fall apart when it comes to an actual match. Kisarag-senpai, please replace me!”

“No, no, no. This is a good chance for you to get used to real matches. I plan on snatching a regular spot, so don’t let your guard down, Kanbayashi.”

Nanao and Kaito went to the azuchi to clean up. The two of them efficiently put things away. After their underclassmen left, Nanao muttered, “...Maybe I should have touched Minato’s forehead too.”

Kaito flicked Nanao’s forehead.

“Ow! What did you do that for, Kacchan?”

“Shut up, don’t make such an ugly face.”

“What are you talking about, I’m not the ugly one here.”

Nanao flicked Kaito’s forehead back, and the two of them ended up falling on their behinds.

Seiya, watching from the shajo, sighed.

“What are they doing over there?”

Ryouhei was hanging over his mop.

“Those cousins really do get along.”

Nanao would never say this to Seiya and Ryouhei, but he was stunned when he was dropped from the regular lineup. Even though the five of them couldn’t even do taihai in sync together a year ago, through daily practice, training camps, and competitions, they were able to become true comrades. They learned that the bow wasn’t something you drew on your own. But if he mentioned that he was shaken, he wouldn’t be supporting the newcomer Kanbayashi on joining the regular lineup. As a senior, he had to avoid that.

Masa-san was next to Minato, who was watching Nanao and Kaito.

“Don’t worry, Minato. Nanao will be fine.”

“I know.”

Minato took off the bowstring from his bow and put it in his bow case.

The awkward singing of the cuckoo from this morning had become somewhat better.

Deep in the mountains, sprouts could be felt on the ridgelines, and wild hares were twitching their noses. Schools of small fish swam by, perhaps lured by the murmuring of the streams of melted snow.

Shuu was alone in the open-air bath. He fully stretched his arms and legs in the water. His eyes feasted on the greenery, his ears were intoxicated by the melody of the water, and his nose was stimulated by the scent of the trees. How wonderful nature was.

In the bath next to him, the twin brothers were shivering.

“It’s so cold, Sen-nii,” Manji said.

“Endure it, endure it,” Senichi answered.

“Shuu went in there with a completely calm look on his face earlier, you know? Look at him.”

Spring arrived later in the mountains than in the lower regions. In some places, the snow hadn’t yet melted.

“Sen, Man. You have to enter a cold bath while exhaling. Alternating hot and cold baths is a part of yoga, and it’s effective in keeping your head cool and your feet warm, as well as creating a relaxed upper body and a stable lower body.”

“Training, that’s what training is!”

When they heard Shuu say it was time to switch baths, Senichi and Manji jumped out of their bath with cries of “Hyaah!” They rushed into the steamy open-air bath. Shuu didn’t move at all, leisurely soaking his body in the cold water.

Hearing that Shuu was going to his villa, the twins forced themselves along. They were excited to see how luxurious it would be in the mountains owned by the Fujiwara family, but it was a hermitage-like house with only one attendant—the elderly butler, Toujou.

Senichi and Manji also finished up with cold water and rehydrated after getting out of the bath.

In actuality, Kabashima and Yushima, third-years at Kirisaki High School, and the graduates Motomura and Sase were also with them. The four of them had already left the baths and were relaxing in the living room.

“Please chew and enjoy your food thoroughly.”

Dinner was Toujou’s home cooking. Because food native to the south cooled the body and lowered immunity, local outdoor-grown vegetables were plentifully used. It was a very gentle flavor. They joined hands to thank Toujou, the farmers, the sun, the rain, and the earth.

“It’s so good. Motomura, make this next time,” Sase said.

“Understood. However, you should prepare the ingredients.”

Motomura went to a local national university, and Sase went to a private university in Tokyo, but they still saw each other often.

Feeling cleansed both physically and mentally, the twins picked up their phones. Kabashima frowned when he saw that.

“You guys are still on your phones even here? Go on a phone fast.”

“Huh? But isn’t there a TV there? We were thinking of watching Yotube.”

In perfect synchronization, Senichi and Manji pointed to the spot where there was a large monitor set up. This was where Shuu studied the shooting forms of different people.

“You can watch Yotube there too. Everyone, go and rest. I’m going to make a bonfire in the yard.”

“A bonfire!? How far does your garden go? And by yourself? That can wait until next time. Let’s do something we can only do now.”

At Yushima’s urging, Shuu took a seat.

On the screen were two boys dressed in orange kyudo wear.

They were Asahina and Eddie from the kyudo Yotube channel, “Yumihiki Douji.” It was launched a year ago, and the name came from an Edo-period mechanical doll. It was created by the scientific engineer, Tanaka Hisashige, and it was a doll that repeated the advanced movements of taking an arrow from a quiver, nocking it on a bow, and shooting it.

If Asahina had to be described in one word, it would be Tokyoite. Although he didn’t come from a family that had been in Tokyo for three generations, he was friendly and good-natured, and his hair was red, almost pink in color.

Eddie was an American with his blond hair tied in a ponytail and a Japanese mother. He was studying abroad in Japan because he became addicted to period dramas. He spoke fluent Japanese and he used “sessha” as his personal pronoun. (1) He often did strange poses.

Asahina made a gesture of drawing a bow.

“Hey, guys~ Today’s ‘Where’s the Common Sense!’ is ‘Secret Girlfriend.’ We’re going to introduce our girlfriend, or rather, our senpai, or rather, the mastermind behind this whole thing, let’s go!”

“I ain’t a mastermind, I’m your coach.”

“Tsucchi-dono is a rather good-looking girl, but she has a ferocious personality, that she does,” Eddie said.

“Shut it, and stop speaking so weirdly.”

Asahina and Eddie’s showy and light-hearted banter was their selling point. They talked about jokes and materials that had to do with kyudo and actually demonstrated shooting. The editing was well-done, and the way they put in pauses and onscreen text was superb.

What surprised the twins in today’s video was that these two Yotubers were high school second-years, just like them. They thought they were university students because they uploaded every Tuesday and Friday evening. Apprently, they started this channel as part of an information studies class. While many high schools nowadays prohibited the posting of images and videos on social media that could allow people to identify the name of the school, it was rare that this was done under the guidance of the school.

Tsucchi, a.k.a. Coach Tsuchiya, mentioned that she won a student tournament in her third year of university.

Footage from the first shakai was shown. Everyone was dressed in kimonos, and Asahina, Eddie, and Tsucchi shot at the targets one after another as they stood in front of them. Combined with their bright furisode kimonos, it was as though flowers were scattering everywhere.

Shuu marveled at them.

“The coach’s habit of drawing while looking at the arrow shaft bothers me, but her vertical line is good.”

“Is it okay to wear any kind of kimono for kyudo?” Senichi and Manji asked.

“Kimono has rules. The first formal dress for men is the kuro-habutae with five family crests, for married women the kuromesode, and for unmarried women the furisode. For formal occasions in Kyudo, plain kimono in any color other than black and with a single crest should be worn in order to avoid patterns. Some say that during the Edo period, commoners were so poor that black kimono were used for both weddings and funerals, while others say that with the introduction of Western culture during the Meiji period, black formal wear was adopted. Either way, the period in Japan’s history when black was considered the highest and most formal color was short, and there were some archers who even argued against it.”

Motomura took over the conversation.

“I’ve heard that judoka are given red and white belts when they hold the rank of 6-dan to 8-dan, and in Ogasawara-ryuu, purple is said to be the color for those of high dan.”

“Because of the development of kimono culture in Japan, accessories like those in other countries didn’t develop. Japanese companies rank among the top long-lived companies in the world, but there are few long-established leather goods stores. Why did the ancient Japanese try to avoid the shedding of blood? It’s because they were afraid of retaliation from the dead—curses. For that reason, they tried to settle matters by discussion as much as possible.”

“Even if we triumph by touting justice, misfortunes can still happen to anyone. If the wind changes direction, good and evil can be reversed. When that happens, there’s no escape in an island country that is surrounded by the sea on all sides. When you think about, it’s easy to understand why the Japanese value harmony.”

Sase fanned himself with a pink fan.

“There’s other things to value, isn’t there? Let’s watch Noririn’s morning routine.”

In a sense, they all held respect for Sase, who always had the idol Noririn’s goods in hand. However, if things continued as they were, this would become Sase’s one-man show.

Motomura bluntly changed the subject.

“The long-range archery at Kyoto’s Sanjuusangen-dou (2) is in the recommended videos. Sase, you mentioned before that you wanted to try participating in it.”

“Noririn… Poor me. Well, it’s fine. There’s so many people that want to participate that now only new adults that are higher than 1-dan and those with titles such as hanshi and kyoushi can enter.”

“Fujiwara-kun, you’re 2-dan, aren’t you? Are you planning to take the 3rd dan this year?” Motomura asked.

“Yes. Minato and I are taking it as disciples of the Saionji school.”

“‘School’ sounds kinda cool,” Senichi and Manji said as the ending music for “Yumihiki Douji” played behind them. The characters overlapped. At the phrase, “On the next ‘Where’s the Common Sense,’ it’s ‘Shooting targets in the dark.’ Shuu's eyes half-closed.

A figure emerged from the morning mist.

Nanao opened the door to the kyudojo.

After putting down his bag and uniform jacket, he replaced the water of the sakaki on the kamidana. (3) He entered the shajo and put on a muneate over his shirt and put on his yugake.

All he heard was the chirping of a little bird. It was perched on a stewartia tree branch. Perhaps it had only just left the nest, as its feathers were puffed out, and its young features and round cheeks were adorable. It was fed beak-to-beak by another bird.

“It’s not like me to come here earlier than everyone else and do morning practice. Why did they have to decide the regular lineup with a surprise test?”

It sounded even more futile when he said it aloud. He was fully aware that it was just an excuse. If he wasn’t able to do something on a regular basis, he wouldn’t be able to do it in a competition. For little birds, everyday was a competition from the time they were eggs. They couldn’t say, “I’m just practicing today, so please don’t attack me.”

What was I doing, saying, “Let’s stand on that stage again this year with the five of us.” So lame.

He watched a lot of kyudo videos. All of them were enjoyable and knowledgeable. There were some points that applied to him, so he decided to give them a try. After that, his number of hits decreased.

The other day, Masa-san told him that there was too much force in his right hand. When he drew his bow, the arrow head pointed upward and it became parallel at kai. Since the left and right weren’t equally apart, his hit rate was also reduced.

In front of the makiwara, he drew his bow while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Yunde senkou—pushing first and pulling later. Reciting that in his mind didn’t work. He pulled out the arrow stuck in the makiwara, bowed, opened his legs, drew his bow, and released his arrow. He endlessly repeated this.

He was completely oblivious to the presence of Kaito, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, outside the kyudojo. The other members of the club weren’t sure when to enter the hall.

After school that day.

When Nanao stepped into the kyudojo, he found Kanbayashi and Ryouhei sitting side by side. They were looking at each other’s hands.

“Yamanouchi-senpai, your under-glove has a really fun design. Is that a rabbit running on top of waves?”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? My grandma gave it to me. It’s called a ‘nami-usagi,’ and since rabbits live on the moon and bounce around, they’re said to be an animal of longevity and making great strides forward. This one is a fukura suzume, a puffed-up sparrow. I heard that sparrows peck at misfortune. I have some under-gloves that are a little too small for me, so I’ll give them out to everyone.”

Kanbayashi received an under-glove with a turtle design, and Keyaki received one with a sparrow design. The two first-years had only used plain white gloves before, so they felt as if they had level-upped somehow.

The other members of the club also gathered around in interest. Kyudo wear consisted of a white upper wear and black or navy-blue hakama, so this kind of modest fashion was fun for archers.

Minato also peered at Ryouhei’s hands.

“The most famous Japanese design is pine, plum, and bamboo. The three of them can endure the cold, so they’re called the Three Friends of Winter. Pine is for longevity, bamboo is for the growth of children, and plum is for good fortune.”

Seiya took this opportunity to reel off his specialty.

“When you’re made to wait a long time at an eel restaurant, you’re told, ‘it takes a while for it to taste good.’ Six gourds for good health.” (4)

In front of his proud-looking friend, Kaito wasn’t amused at all.

“…Seiya’s dad jokes were a traditional Japanese art form.”

“What was that about me, Kaito?”

“Nothing at all.”

Next to Seiya, who had an eerie pattern behind him and whose glasses were shining, Nanao safely passed his hand through a frog-patterned under-glove.

It took some time for the first-years to hold a bow, but the hard struggle of handling an unfamiliar tool continued. First, it was hard to take the bowstring with a yugake-covered right hand. You had to raise the entire bow as well, which was even more difficult. It was impossible not to grip it, and it was barely possible to keep the arrow nocked on the string from falling off.

Makuuchi, where the arrow pierced the curtain hanging over the azuchi.

Hakiya, where the arrow swept across the ground and didn’t reach the target.

There was an array of the conditions typical of beginners, including sore muscles in both arms, blisters on the palms, and scraping on the base of the left thumb known as the yamakura. Nanao felt nostalgic. They’re just like me back then.

Suddenly, Keyaki bent down. His right arm was swelling red. His bowstring had struck his arm when he was shooting.

Masa-san brought over a wet towel.

“Let’s cool it down right away. Don’t worry, it won’t leave a scar.”

“…Okay, sir.”

“There are four possible causes. One, your left shoulder is too forward and your right shoulder is too drawn back. Two, your grip is bad. Three, you can’t do the rotation of your left and right hands. Four, you’re double-jointed. Keyaki, the spot between your elbow and wrist is hit, so I’m thinking that the reason is the first one.”

“You know the reason just from seeing where I was hit?”

“Pretty much. Make the line of your shoulders parallel with the arrow. When you draw the bow, don’t put all your force into your left shoulder, move to the daisan stage with your right elbow still tense, and pull your bow apart with the feeling of bringing the force to your hips.”

Since the fear of “what if I get hit by the string again” would induce slack in his body before the release, a supporter was placed on Keyaki’s left arm. Masa-san put his hands on his bow helped him part it. After taking a step back, he told him, “Release the string straightforwardly. Flick your thumb.” The arrow flew straight toward the target, and there was the sound of a matooto.

“…That was the first time I hit a target!”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

Kanbayashi and other first-year students ran over to Keyaki, who couldn’t hide his joy. Seeing them, Nanao got fired up again.

“Masa-san, please take a look at my shooting as well.”

“Okay. In the textbook, it says that ‘For uchiokoshi, the arrow is always almost horizontal, and parallel to the body.’ That ‘almost horizontal’ part is called mizunagare, meaning that the arrow should be at an angle where a drop of water on the shaft should slowly run to the tip of the arrow.”

Nanao let out an exhale.

“Lower your shoulders and raise your bow while inhaling. After you finish raising your bow, exhale, and then part your bow while inhaling.”

After he continued to open up his body like that, his arrow flew sharply. It hit the target at nine o’clock.

“Mm, that’s good.”

“Huh? Now I’m suddenly able to hit. My yugake feels kind of good. Maybe it’s thanks to the lucky under-glove Ryouhei gave me.”

“That might be the case. There are preferences to the thickness of an under-glove, and there are people who decide to use a specific one for matches. My master named his arrows and said something about Jirou curving right, which made me laugh.”

“I might have been overloading myself with too much information and made myself confused instead.”

“If you ever get confused, go back to the textbook. It’s a book compiled for fifth-dan and renshi after all. Very important things are written in a simplified manner to the point where they can’t be cut down any further. That makes it a difficult book for beginners, though.”

When he found his rhythm, he wanted to shoot more and let his body learn. After Nanao landed four hits, the Nanao Fan Club, which was watching him from outside the kyudojo, erupted into applause.

Nanao waved at them with a “Merha!”

The cherry blossoms were in leaf, contrasting beautifully with the red brick school building. Students were coming and going, and the arched windows reflected the blue sky and white clouds.

Applause sounded from the detached kyudojo.

At Kirisaki High School’s kyudo club, the third-years Motomura, Sase and the others had retired, and the club was welcoming new students. What was different from previous years was the unexpectedly high number of people who wanted to join the club. It was no exaggeration to say that all of them were fans of Shuu, Senichi and Manji.

A young lord sitting in a tall chair, and the twin boys flanking him—

This was the poster advertising the kyudo club’s program, “The Sound of Civilization and Enlightenment—Rokumeikan Café,” (5) which was only displayed at last year’s cultural festival. There was also a version with a boy in Western-style clothing and a girl in hakama, Haikara-san style. (6) The images that Sase had jokingly created became viral in an instant, and the limited entrance exam slots for Kirisaki High School became even more limited. Among those who had overcome the difficult obstacles, there was one who was particularly ardent.

Kuon Takumi.

A visitor from fairyland.

His skin was so white and translucent that pale veins could be seen beneath it. He had long eyelashes, dewy eyes, a small and red mouth, and elegant curled hair. He looked like an antique doll made by a top craftsman.

A female club member spoke to him with flushed cheeks.

“Kuon-kun, I have a very precious photograph. Would you like to see it?”

It was a group photo of ten students from Kirisaki High School and Kazemai High School taken after last year’s Inter-High, and it showed Shuu leaning forward with Ryouhei’s arm around his shoulders.

Kuon’s face scrunched up at seeing the phone screen that was offered up to him.

“…How disgusting. Can you put that away?”

“Eh? O-Okay. Everyone’s having tea after practice. Would you like to join us?”

“Hmph, I’d prefer that an average person like you wouldn’t speak to me so familiarly.”

The girl stood there, dumbfounded. Her friend, who was accompanying her, was covering her mouth with her hand. She was an only daughter who was carefully raised like a princess. She was bewildered by those words she had never heard before, and her brain was unable to process them.

Since this exchange was witnessed, his popularity with his fellow first-years had been poor. Even his seniors were having a hard time dealing with him. However, there was no way a petit, arrogant, and beautiful boy would be left alone, and a group of fans had already been formed around him in school.

On that day, more than a hundred members of the club met in the kyudojo. They were divided into three groups to go through their respective training regimens. The third-years practiced in front of the targets, and the second-years practiced in front of the makiwara and took care of the first-years.

Shuu and the twins, Senichi and Manji, also coached the first-years as their seniors. In addition to practicing the Eight Stages of Shooting with rubber bows and drawing empty bows, they also conveyed the first-years the unique customs of Kirisaki Academy, an integrated middle and high school. For those enrolled in high school, it was an unknown world. They couldn’t stop feeling thrilled and excited, wondering if they would be able to fit in.

Senichi and Manji enrolled in high school. They were very well-received when they spoke with hand and body gestures based on their own experiences. For instance, about how after hearing stories about the Seven Mysteries of Kirisaki Academy, such as the tanuki family living in the corner of the tennis court for generations, or a cough coming from an empty classroom, Kabashima and Yushima summoned them to the science lab and scared them conversely. Once, as a welcome ceremony for newcomers, they had a quiz to find out what was inside the takoyaki. The winner was awarded a giant Noririn cushion, Sase’s top bias, and the first-year winner, who lived in the dorm got into a heated argument with his roommate over where to keep the cushion.

Although they kept a respectful distance from Shuu, who was the picture of a young lord, the first-years were attracted to the easygoing twins and formed a circle around them. There were even those who said that they felt blissful just from listening to the conversation between Shuu and the twins. They chatted so much that they ended up getting scolded by Kabashima, the new club president.

Kuon was outside the circle. He was among the minority of first-years who had kyudo experience and was practicing in front of the makiwara. He was small, but he had a dignified yugamae and a beautiful form. His arrows also headed directed at the makiwara. Was a whim of the god of the bow that his personality and shooting ability didn’t match? Like a peacock who wandered into a flock of sparrows, he walked around kicking the little birds about.

When he found Shuu, who had finished instructing the first-years and left the scene alone, Kuon put down his bow and arrows and rushed over to him. His long eyelashes were moist and his fingers were clasped together as though in prayer.

“Fujiwara-senpai, are you in good humor today? I am extremely delighted to be able to have the honor of your acquaintance.”

“I don’t need to be spoken to formally. Excessive embellishment just gets into the way.”

“You don’t have to be so modest, senpai. Someone will come to pick me up later. Why don’t you come to another kyudojo? I have invited an eminent teacher, so I would very much like you to watch my shooting.”

“If you have a teacher, you don’t need me. If you still want me to watch you, I’ll do it when everyone’s together.”

“Are you saying that you can’t give special treatment only to me? The members here are all lower class. A noble personage such as you shouldn’t bother to pay attention to them.”

“There are no upper- or lower-class archers. You are obsessed with something that is make-believe. The Sugawara brothers are excellent archers.”

“The Sugawara senpais are…well, I won’t argue with you on that. They have exceeded the passing grade for the time being. You are a noble personage. Please go forward on the right path.”

Shuu didn’t answer him.

There was the sound of the wind. His hair swayed, and he turned his back on Kuon and walked away.

Senichi and Manji were in the shade of a tree. The twins had noticed Kuon following after Shuu and went after him as well.

Senichi frowned.

“Are you alright, Shuu? Did he do something to you? Which era did he time travel from? Damn it, I’m not leaving your side from now on.”

Manji put his elbow on Senichi’s shoulder. He put his weight on it, as though to crush him.

“I thought Sen-nii’s Shuu-love was bad enough, but in Kuon’s case, it goes too far, or rather, it’s way too bad.”

“Don’t use that ‘Shuu-love’ expression. Don’t worry, Manji, I love you too.”

“Stop it, Nii-chan!”

“Cry, scream, and beg for forgiveness!”

“Kyaah!”

In front of the two who had turned into a boke and tsukkomi routine, Shuu could only laugh quietly.

――Kuon, huh.

Shuu murmured in his mind.

Why would someone with such high self-esteem butter up to me? I can optimistically interpret this as an acknowledgement of my abilities, but there must be some other purpose. I can transparently see something other than admiration. Even if he himself intends to hide it, he can’t erase the hints drifting around him. I don’t like that kind of gaze, but there are many like it. In a way, I’m used to them.

What he couldn’t get used to was another gaze. A look that couldn’t be considered to be a part of this world, that took you to another world.

How many times had he almost fell to his knees?

How many times had he wanted to steal it away?

Recalling those clear green eyes, Shuu closed his eyes.

Late April.

The internal selection was being held for Kirisaki High School’s second successive Inter-High championship.

In the team competition, there were seven members for both the boys’ and girls’ tournaments, including five starters. All competitors except beginners would shoot ten shots, and the top seven with the most hits would be selected to the team. The method was a group of five, two sitting shots and four standing shots twice.

The number of participants this time was sixty-eight, and they were divided into the two kyudojos. The first five were first-year boys. The oomae, Kuon, lined up at the entrance in the toriyumi posture.

The toriyumi posture was the stance where one stood straight with the bow and arrows in both hands, and both hands should have the thumbs touching the hard lumps of the hipbones. The bowstring was removed from the bow, and the uwahazu, or upper part of the bow, should be kept about ten centimeters above the floor. There were two ways to shoot: Reisha-kei, which used itsukebushi (holding the arrows by the shaft ten centimeters from the arrowhead), and musha-kei, where one held the arrows by the arrowhead. Kirisaki followed the former, while the twins followed the latter.

At the signal to start, the white tabi socks stepped forward.

Kuon hit his target right from the start, and the calls of “Yes!” echoed. The following second, third, and fourth shots all missed, but all five boys landed hits for their second round. Applause erupted for the kaichuu, and the coach didn’t look dissatisfied either.

Senichi and Manji leaned forward.

“Sen, don’t you think this year’s first-years are amazing?”

“There are also students from the middle school, after all.”

On the display board next to the target-watching area, “〇’s” and “x’s” were used to indicate hits and misses, which were then entered into a computer by the record keeper. A red flag was put up when the shooting in both the first and second kyudojos were over. The officials then entered the azuchi to confirm the results. The results were read aloud.

“For the first kyudojo, the oomae has a kaichuu, the second, third, and fourth has hit half, and the ochi has a kaichuu.” The results were read out in that way, and then all the archers went to retrieve their arrows together.

All the first-years had finished their two rounds, and a total of fifteen students—six girls, nine boys—achieved a kaichuu. Now it was the second-years’ turn. All eyes were on Shuu and the twins.

Shuu gently lowered his eyelids and faced the target with half-open eyes. He raised his bow. His straight back and supple arms looked like that of a leader in a ballroom dancing pair. (7) Of course, his partner was the bow.

He felt the bow’s presence, he heard the bow’s voice, and he was led to where the bow wanted to go. His elegant and refined movements created a new tradition in high society. It was a powerful piece of modern art. A work of art that emphasized the spirit of experimentation and attempted to break away from the traditional art forms of the past. The more they danced, the livelier they became, surpassing the entire venue.

The twins’ shots that followed were contemporary. The two were fugitives, rebels of the times. Their father was a vassal who was imprisoned for counseling a statesman, and his family was taken hostage. His children became the twin knights, clad in the colors of the sun.

You people who turned a blind eye, you masses who kept silent, gaze at us in wonder.

Send up the signal fire! The fighters who flied the flag of rebellion offered their own bodies. Bodies in motion. Arms that burst open. The arms that once again sprouted up and down and left and right would be the phoenix that resurrected even after death.

It was now shooting in standing form, and it was Kuon Takumi’s turn again. His shots were like classical ballet. When the drop curtain rose, the principal stood there in the spotlight, dancing to the solemn music of the orchestra. Only beautiful limbs that were possessed from birth could dance on this stage. Before technique and skill, only heaven-sent raw material was allowed. Arms and legs so thin they looked as if they might snap, a supreme work of art in which all unnecessary things had been chipped off. The white bird left for the sky.

Kabashima and Yushima, who were now third-years, were not to be outdone either.

From their powerful stances, they lifted their bows and went to snatch their matooto. A career meant months and years. It didn’t mean accumulating years just for show. After everyone finished shooting, the team members were announced.

First target/oomae – Kabashima Umetarou (third-year) – Ten hits

Second target/nakamae – Sugawara Senichi (second-year) – Nine hits

Third target/naka – Sugawara Manji (second-year) – Nine hits

Fourth target/ochimae – Kuon Takumi (first-year) – Nine hits

Fifth target/ochi – Fujiwara Shuu (second-year) – Ten hits

Reserve – Yushima Kaoru (third-year) – Eight hits

Reserve – Ishizaka Kazuomi (third-year) – Eight hits

Kuon smiled daringly.

“Sugawara-senpais, you have the same number of hits as me. Therefore, there’s no need for me to take you seriously. I will prove that I should be the one standing next to the Young Lord.”

Senichi and Manji exclaimed at the same time.

“Huh!? What are you talking about?”

“Somebody, please attach a target to the azuchi. Sugawara-senpais, I propose a long-range shooting match.”

Kabashima and the other club members were also interested in this competition. They wanted to know the true abilities of the ones who pined for the Young Lord, Shuu. With the coach’s permission, the three decided the shooting order. Each of them was given one arrow. The one who hit closest to the center would be superior.

Perhaps the unsettling presence summoned them. Thick clouds quickly covered the sky, and as soon as the three lined up in front of the target, it began raining heavily. The officials at the target station also withdrew to avoid the rain.

Senichi went before the target first, and Manji stood at his back. The rain made it difficult to see, and Senichi’s hakama was heavy with water. He took more time than usual to carefully draw his bow. The sound of the rain drowned out his tsurune, but the arrow hit one of the outer black rings at three o’clock.

Next was Manji. His eyelashes were wet from the splashing water. His grip on his bow was poor thanks to the humidity. He lifted his bow and brought the tip of the arrow close to the target. The target fell over his left arm, and when he overlapped the target with the yazuridou, the arrow was hastily released—unfortunately. He stepped back without changing his expression.

Kuon stepped forward to face the target. He raised his chin slightly, raised his bow, and narrowed his eyes. He blinked once, and the arrow raced to the target. His arrow pierced the center white, almost right in the middle.

The target official, holding an umbrella, brought back the three arrows at different heights.

The arrow that flew the highest was returned to Kuon’s hand. The second to Senichi, and the last one to Manji.

After exiting the shajo, Kuon put down his bow.

“It seems that the long-distance match wasn’t needed. The shooting of the younger brother was a fluke. Well, the Sugawara-senpais came from commoners with no history, so it was to be expected.”

“You should know better than to underestimate people, you know? Our father is a successful man who made his company big in his own lifetime.”

“So he’s an upstart?”

“He’s an entrepreneur!”

Senichi flapped his hands.

“Manji, stop it. You can’t reason with people who are completely out of touch and can’t upgrade their knowledge.”

Kuon argued him down.

“I’m out of touch? I can’t upgrade? Your idiocy knows no bounds.”

Furthermore, he strode over Manji’s bow and stepped in front of Shuu.

“My parents told me that I have grown up beautifully, just as the characters in my name implied (8), but in front of you, Fujiwara-senpai, I am nothing. You are the genuine article.”

“Are you a genuine archer?”

“Of course. I just proved it.”

“I do not straddle over man or bow. I don’t call those who treat tools roughly archers.”

After saying that, Shuu left.

Kuon cursed him in his mind.

What, he thinks I’m going to be humiliated by something as trivial as that? After I praised him so extravagantly?

Kuon had a plan to take over the title of “High School Archer Shuu” after his name became well-known throughout the country.

You must shine even brighter.

After you’re deliciously finished up, I’m going to devour you from your head.

Kuon traced his bottom lip with his tongue.

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#tsurune translation #tsurune

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