Chapter 13: I Am Also a Good Person
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“We still haven’t identified him specifically. There’s nothing in our records that matches.”
The tall, slender swordsman wearing a white fox mask shook his head.
“However, some beggars near the docks witnessed him disembark from a passing cargo ship the night before last.”
“His encounter with the Sakuraba boy was probably just a coincidence. He wanted to deceive the kid and obtain a place in the tournament.”
“A nameless nobody with no sense of his own insignificance.”
The luxuriously dressed middle-aged man lifted his coffee and gently rubbed the rim.
“Then let him enjoy the same treatment as the Sakuraba brat. Put a few more troublesome opponents in his group.”
“Yes, boss.”
…………
The line at the registration office stretched endlessly.
With nothing better to do while waiting, Shano looked around. After a while, he suddenly noticed a curved wall on the northern side of the square.
The emblems of the seven dojos were displayed in a row across its surface, but a large, conspicuous blank space occupied the very center.
Looking closely, it seemed that the area had been painted over.
“There used to be a Sakuraba crest there, didn’t there?”
“Yes.” Junichi nodded gloomily. “Actually, two emblems were erased. One was the crest of our Sakuraba Dojo, and the other belonged to the Kendo Association.”
“The Kendo Association? Was that founded by your father too?”
“Not entirely. More precisely, my father founded it together with the masters of several other dojos. He played the leading role, I suppose. Later, everyone elected him by vote to serve as association president.”
Shano clicked his tongue.
“Your father must have been highly respected. When you told me that the Sakuraba Dojo had been suppressed and attacked from all sides after his death, I assumed he had somehow offended everyone.”
“They probably thought that I didn’t deserve the position after taking over as master.” Junichi gave a bitter smile.
“Oh, there you go again. I told you not to tear yourself apart for no reason. Get that into your head, kid! …By the way, you mentioned earlier that your father died in an accident five years ago?”
“Yes. It was a sinking.”
Junichi nodded slowly, his face clouding with memories.
“It happened just a few days before the Kendo Tournament. There was a storm in the waters north of the island, and the association received a distress signal. Two ships carrying swordsmen who had come to compete had capsized.”
“My father happened to be working at the association that day. The moment he put down the telephone snail, he hurried over with a rescue team. Several senior disciples from the Sakuraba Dojo went with him as well, but … none of them ever came back.”
Shano fell silent with him for a while.
“Your father was a good man,” he sighed. “Unfortunately, on these seas, being a good person doesn’t guarantee a good fate.”
“…”
Junichi did not know what to say. After a long pause, he spoke quietly.
“Thank you.”
Shano patted him on the back.
“By the way, there’s something else that seems rather strange.”
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Junichi seemed to recall something else and looked toward the row of dojo emblems.
“When the association still existed, there was a place where everyone could negotiate and discuss matters. The adults often argued among themselves, and whenever disciples from different dojos met in the streets, they would frequently refuse to yield to one another, sending challenges back and forth to compete for higher rankings.”
“But after the association disappeared, the seven major dojos gradually began advancing and retreating as one, becoming as close as family. Take this new rule requiring an entry fee, for example. The moment word of it spread among the public, it was immediately finalized and put into effect. I’ve never heard of any disputes or objections.”
The more he thought about it, the more baffled he became. He slapped his head in frustration.
“Ah, I feel like all my brain cells are about to burn out. Anyway, it’s just strange. None of it makes any sense…”
As close as family?
Shano fell into thought. Then a sudden jolt ran through the back of his mind, as though he had sensed something. He spun around and narrowed his eyes at the coffeehouse not far away.
The entrance on the first floor was crowded with people, but the second-floor balcony was completely deserted.
His sharp gaze swept up and down before finally fixing on one spot: two cups of coffee on a round table beside the balcony railing, still warm enough to send up wisps of steam.
“What is it?” Junichi asked curiously.
“Nothing.”
Shano gave a slight shake of his head and looked away.
He glanced toward the line, which had already shrunk by more than half, and smiled.
“Let’s forget about that for now. It’s almost time for us to draw our groups. Hopefully we won’t run into each other too early. How about we both make it to the finals and take first and second place together?”
“Deal! Let’s give it everything we’ve got!”
Junichi clenched his fist and waved it.
“And one more thing! Don’t wear that face like you’ve already won the championship. When we reach the final stage, you’d better be careful. I won’t lose as miserably as I did last time!”
……
The group assignments were announced soon afterward.
Shano was placed in Group B, while Junichi went into Group C.
According to the preliminary-round rules, each contestant had to face swordsmen from Groups A and D in five matches. Only those who won every bout could advance to the quarterfinals first.
“Ha! This means we won’t have to run into each other during the entire preliminary round.”
Junichi’s mood improved even further as he held up his draw slip and began whistling.
“Well then, Mr. Shano, I’m heading over to Group C. See you at noon?”
“Go on. I’ll finish my matches as quickly as I can and come find you.”
After watching Junichi leave, Shano cast one more glance at the coffeehouse before heading toward his assigned competition area.
By then, most of the wooden platforms scattered throughout the square were occupied, though the matches were at different stages.
Some had only just begun, while others had already finished and sent their fighters down to rest.
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There were simply too many swordsmen taking part in the preliminary rounds. This was the most efficient arrangement.
“Preliminary Round, Groups A and B, Match Seven! Contestant Number 120, Shano, versus Contestant Number 28, Sica!”
A sizable crowd immediately gathered around the wooden platform in the corner. As the announcer finished speaking, the two contestants took their positions at opposite ends.
Sica was a bald, powerfully built man standing roughly seven and a half feet tall.
The bamboo sword in his hands was noticeably larger than standard, drawing attention with both its unusual thickness and length.
“You can choose different sizes when buying a bamboo sword?”
Shano looked mildly surprised.
“You don’t even know that? Ha! What an idiot!”
The bald Sica threw back his head and laughed brazenly.
“Some fledgling from God knows where, and in your very first round you run into the great Sica. What rotten luck.”
“But don’t worry. I won’t let you suffer for long. Your good old Uncle Sica is a kindhearted man. I’ll put an end to your pain as quickly as possible!”
“You two, remember the rules!” the referee shouted. “You may attack each other only with bamboo swords. Direct contact with your hands or feet is forbidden. Whoever is knocked off the platform loses, while the opponent wins immediately and advances to the next round! Is that clear?”
Both men nodded.
“Good. Then I hereby declare—” The referee abruptly raised his hand. “The match has begun!”
The instant his voice fell—
Bam!
A dull, thunderous crack rang out.
Amid a howl of agony, the massive figure more than seven feet tall was sent flying. He crashed heavily onto the ground several yards away.
“Well, what a coincidence. I’m a good person too.”
Shano’s calm voice drifted from the wooden platform.
The surrounding spectators fell utterly silent. The referee stared blankly, his hand still suspended in midair, not even having had time to bring it down.
Shano slid the bamboo sword back into the sheath at his waist, then turned toward the referee, who had frozen like a statue, and offered him a polite smile.
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry. May we start the next match immediately?”