The deafening, ringing silence that had fallen over the kendo dojo was suddenly broken by the measured sound of applause. All eyes, which had been riveted on the stunned Murayama and the unfazed Jin, darted to the entrance. There, leaning against the doorframe, stood Kiba Yuuto. His natural, disarming ikemen smile played on his face, and sparks of genuine interest danced in his green eyes.
"Yuuto-sempai!" several girls immediately cried out in delight. The tension in the hall instantly dissipated, replaced by a reverent awe at the appearance of the school prince.
He walked to the center of the hall with a calm, graceful stride, heading toward Jin and Murayama, who had only just emerged from her daze and was now, breathing heavily, looking shyly at the approaching youth. Her confidence as club captain had been severely undermined.
"Impressive," Kiba's voice was soft and warm, but Jin caught the steel notes within it. "I was watching from outside. Izayoi-san, your stance is... interesting, to say the least, but the result speaks for itself."
He then turned to Murayama, his smile becoming even warmer, full of sympathy and support. "Murayama-san, you shouldn't be upset. Your strike was superb. Speed, power, precision—it was all top-level. I'm serious. Few in this academy could have landed such a clean and powerful men."
The words of praise from Kiba Yuuto himself made the captain's cheeks flush. "B-but... he didn't even budge... and my shinai..." she stammered, still not believing what had happened.
"Sometimes," Kiba looked at Jin with a sly squint, "an opponent turns out to be a 'special' case. And clashing with such strength isn't a defeat, but a valuable experience. You shouldn't be disheartened by it. You did wonderfully."
Jin silently observed Yuuto's actions, as he so skillfully and casually played the role of the good guy, calming the humiliated girl while simultaneously sizing up his new rival. He just rolled his eyes internally. This prince was too... perfect. Too proper. It was irritating.
After Murayama, embarrassed but slightly calmed, stepped aside under the encouraging gazes of her friends, Yuuto turned to Jin. His smile remained pleasant, but now it held a clear challenge. "Izayoi-san, since Murayama-san is a bit tired, perhaps you'll allow me to be your next sparring partner?"
All the girls in the hall held their breath. Kiba Yuuto was challenging the mysterious newcomer to a duel! This was going to be legendary!
Like Jin, he didn't bother with protective gear and, picking up Murayama's shinai from the floor, took her place. "Only," he looked at Jin with a slightly sly smile, "maybe you'll actually get into a proper stance? Or are you going to keep fighting with your hand in your pocket? It's a bit... disrespectful."
Jin looked at him lazily. His friendly expression, which he had maintained while talking with the girls, was replaced by one that was openly arrogant. "Nah," he drawled.
Well then. Kiba got it. This guy wasn't just strong; he was a provocateur. "I won't be holding back, Izayoi-san," his smile hardened, and his gaze sharpened. "Sometimes, only by crashing into an unbreakable wall can one truly learn the limits of one's own capabilities."
The hall froze in anticipation. All eyes were fixed on the two figures. The strike from the strongest kendo practitioner in their academy was about to happen (how annoying that he wasn't even in the kendo club).
Kiba didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his movement lightning-fast, almost invisible to the eyes of the regular students. The shinai cut through the air with a whistle, carrying a power and precision honed by years of training. The blow landed squarely in the center of Jin's shinai.
CLACK!
The sound was louder, sharper than the last time. But the result was the same. Jin's sword didn't even waver. Kiba, however, felt a powerful feedback jolt through his arms all the way to his shoulder. He stayed on his feet, but his fingers were numb from the vibration. He looked at Jin in amazement. He had used significant force, though he was far from going all out. But his opponent hadn't even flinched.
Jin snorted sarcastically. "Is that all?"
Kiba was taken aback for a moment by such audacity. Then, a slightly sheepish, almost boyish expression appeared on his face. "My apologies," he said, taking a step back and giving a slight bow. "It seems I really did underestimate you. May I ask for a second strike? I promise, I'll be more serious this time."
Jin didn't even bother to answer. He just gave a barely perceptible, lazy nod, continuing to hold the sword in his ridiculous, relaxed pose. The gesture, full of condescending indifference, spoke louder than any words: 'Go on. I'm waiting.'
Kiba chuckled quietly and, after thanking him, took his stance again. And in that moment, he changed. In Jin's eyes, he became different. The lightness was gone, the prince's smile vanished. His face became focused, almost predatory. And around his body, a strange, faint dark aura began to appear and swirl.
None of the girls in the hall saw it. For them, Kiba had simply gotten serious. But Jin saw it. He felt it.
'Magic!' it flashed through his mind, and a long-forgotten feeling stirred in his chest—faint excitement. 'Finally. Something interesting.'
He carefully observed this dark matter enveloping his opponent. It was dense, viscous, yet alive. It smelled of ozone, of night, and of something elusively bitter. It was the power of demons, concentrated, more... sharp, like the edge of a blade. Without showing a hint of his slight excitement, he tightened his grip on the shinai's hilt, preparing to receive a real blow.
Kiba lunged forward again. This time, his speed was otherworldly. This was no longer just a fast lunge. It was a demonic dash. His figure blurred, and the strike was so powerful it created a light breeze that rustled the hair of the watching girls.
SNAP!
Instead of the usual sound of wooden swords colliding, there was a sharp, deafening crack, like a gunshot. And in the next instant, the two wooden blades, unable to withstand the collision of two monstrous forces, broke in half and fell to the floor with a clatter.
The entire hall burst into applause. The girls from the kendo club were screaming and clapping, their eyes shining with delight. They were stunned by what they had just been allowed to witness. This was a completely new level, one that none of them had ever seen while sparring in the club or even in competitions. And some were captivated by something else—by the two handsome boys who looked so cool holding swords, by their demeanor, by their power.
Jin stood with a slightly surprised expression, looking at the fragment of the shinai in his hand. He had expected the sword to hold. It seemed that even wood reinforced with demonic magic had its limits.
Yuuto, meanwhile, was gravely serious. He wasn't looking at his broken sword. He was looking at Jin's still-unwavering hand, which was gripping the hilt as if nothing had happened. His hand. It hadn't trembled. Not even after such a blow.