After classes, Raidon and I split up. He went off to look for the fencing club, and I went to wriggle my way out of club activities.
The plan was simple — find a music club and trade song lyrics for my extremely rare attendance. And what do you think? Not a chance in hell — no club for me! Out of ten I found, only four were even remotely suitable: modern music, gaming (also cosplay), rock, and pop. The rest either didn't need me because songs weren't part of their repertoire, or I had nothing to offer them — like the jazz, retro, or opera clubs.
The modern music club told me to get lost. Rudely. I'll remember that if I get the chance.
The rock club, it turned out, performs well-known songs in their own style. Musical fanfiction, damn it.
The pop guys already had two songwriters of their own, and they didn't need a third competitor.
With the cosplayers, I actually managed to bargain a bit. But they — or rather their "blue" drummer who seemed to be in charge — didn't quite understand what he was asking for. One song every two weeks! I make tens of thousands of rubles off those texts, and he wants them for free! Sure, he can't know that, but he has to understand it's way too much. One text every two weeks… where would he even find someone like that? So yeah, let's just say I was turned down — relatively politely. That guy with his personal harem clearly knew what he was doing. Two of the four girls there had smart eyes — they probably understood their drummer was asking too much. But I'm sure he'll later come up with some "good reason" to convince them he's right.
And now I'm standing at the exit of the club building, thinking what to do next. Might as well start my own club. But how do you create a "doing nothing" club in a school that keeps such a close eye on club activities? Ugh… what a drag. Maybe I should check out the combat clubs? Fencing, for example? That's an idea. I'll find Raidon too — maybe he'll suggest something useful. Or go home? And do what there? I'm completely free today. Or go to "Swallow"? Oh, right — I'll grab Raidon and we'll drop by Honda!
The clubs were located east of the stadiums and spread across a huge area. And this was in the capital, even if on the outskirts. But what really surprised me was the forest. A real one. The entire school grounds were drowning in greenery, and here — an actual forest. In a school. In a multi-million city like Tokyo. Yeah… the Koyama clan that controls this school is impressive, no doubt. How did they even manage to get other clans to send their children here? Maybe they put up collateral of some kind? Eh, whatever. Not my problem.
The combat clubs were located between the stadiums and the forest, taking up a massive territory. If it hadn't been for a couple of guys I ran into, I would've been searching for the fencing clubs for a long time — there were barely any people on the roads between the fences.
The area itself looked like… a city block. Lots of dojos, each with a small yard, surrounded by stone walls and lined up in rows. Here and there you could hear students and instructors shouting. Somewhere voices chanted counts, elsewhere heavy stomping echoed. All in all — interesting. Even though the streets between the fences were empty, feeling alone was out of the question.
The directions I got were very precise: third turn here, fourth there, blah-blah-blah, the whole street is yours. Only when I got there did I understand what "the whole street" meant. Five dojos on each side of the road. And then another five beyond that. There were all kinds of clubs: European fencing, kendo, Chinese fencing, Indian, Spanish, even a Jogo do Pau club. And that was just the beginning of the street! Moments like these make you appreciate living in a high-tech world with mobile phones.
The building I needed was the closest one on the left — the European fencing club.
Standing by the gate, I found myself wondering whether fights between dojos were a thing here. And whether people seized signboards with club names like in the movies. Just a thought — don't mind me.
"To wait or to search — that is the question," I thought, looking into the club courtyard.
There were about twenty people inside. Some practiced strikes, others sparred, some just wandered around. But I didn't see Raidon.
— Thinking it over? Or ready to sign up right away? — asked a guy who approached me. Tall, taller than the average Japanese, with long hair tied into a ponytail, wearing Chinese-style pants and bare-chested. — Oh, forgive my rudeness. Mine Akira.
Wait… her brother?
— Sakurai Sindzi, Mine-san, — I bowed formally. — My apologies, Mine-san, but I'm only here to find a classmate of mine. He should be here signing up. If I'm in the way or breaking any rules, I apologize. I'll leave immediately, — I bowed again.
— No, no, it's fine. Just don't get under the feet or blades of those training, — he replied with a smile. — You can wait here, or even look around. Maybe you'll decide to join us, — he added, still smiling easily.
At first glance, a decent guy. Much better than his sister — assuming they're related.
— Thank you, Mine-san, — I smiled back. — Uh… may I ask something? Am I not disturbing you?
— No, it's fine. Go ahead.
— Are you, by any chance, related to Mine Kino?
— Yes, she's my sister, — he answered, slightly surprised. — Do you know her?
— We met yesterday morning. Turns out she's a friend of my neighbor. Or I'm a neighbor of her friend. I mean Koyama Shina.
— Ah, yes, I've heard, — he chuckled quietly. — She doesn't have the best opinion of you. Talked my ears off about how bad you are, — he added with a friendly grin.
— Oh yeah, — I shook my head. — We really hit it off.
— Alright then, — he snorted. — I'll get going. Just watch out for flying metal. It hurts.
Giving a small bow in thanks, I went back to looking for Raidon. He appeared a bit later among a group of what were probably newcomers. They came out of the dojo, hesitated near the exit for a couple of minutes, then dispersed around the club grounds.
Raidon approached me looking quite pleased.
— Great place, right?
I just shrugged.
— I guess. I don't really get it. I'm not good with fencing. I'm more into firearms and hand-to-hand combat.
Why not? I could easily pass myself off as a strong Student.
During rank exams, starting from Apprentice, they test control over local mana — bahir. But Novice and Student ranks don't involve that. And a strong Student can absolutely crush a weak Apprentice. In fact, I don't even need to pretend — I officially hold the Student rank in both hand-to-hand and firearms. Moreover, Kenta knows that and has likely shared it with his son, and he with his wife. I hinted at it to the old man about a year ago. Shina, though, probably doesn't know — or doesn't consider someone like me worth noticing.
— So you do practice martial arts? — Raidon asked slyly.
— A little, — I answered cautiously.
— A real man can't do without that, — he said importantly.
— Cut the act. Better tell me if you're free right now, — I said, nudging him toward the exit.
— Right now — yeah. I signed up, and I'm free until tomorrow.
— How about we celebrate today? First classes, joining a club… — I paused. — You met Koyama Shina, after all. And tomorrow's a day off — we could have some fun.
— Interesting offer, — my classmate said thoughtfully. — But I need to stop by home first.
— Of course.
— Where are we going?
— I've got a great nightclub in mind.
— A club? I don't know… I'm not really into those places.
— It's a great club, you'll see. I go there often. Everything will be top-notch, trust me.
— We'll probably stay there late. And tomorrow… oh right, Sunday. Still, I'm not sure…
— You know the band "Inter"?
— Of course!
— They hang out there often. Maybe they'll be there today. — Oh wow, the guy lit up instantly. — Though probably not, to be honest. They celebrated there yesterday. But if anything — who knows — I'll introduce you to them.
— You know "Inter"?!
— Quiet down. Yeah, so what? I told you — I go there often, they go there often… that's how it is.
— Is there a chance? Ah, whatever. I mean, of course it matters. Anyway—when do we meet?
— You figure it out. You need to go home, rest a bit, do homework, get ready, plus travel time… Let's say ten o'clock. Call me when you're ready, I'll tell you how to get there. You'll be driving, right?
— On foot? By metro? I tried that once — not doing it again, — he grinned.
— Got it. Hey, how do you and your sister get home on one car? Wait for each other?
— One car brings us here, two take us home.
— Oooh, rich kids.
— Oooh, mister "fifteen minutes from home."
— Or five minutes running, don't forget that.
— Shut up, or I'll start crying.