What is your name?

During this holiday, Kyosuke Hojo spent all his time immersed in kendo training. With Naoka Ueno’s reward, his urgent need for physical strength was finally fulfilled.

After searching around Mizumon City for a while, he eventually enrolled at a dojo that taught various kendo styles.

The instructor, Yamamura Onozou, was said to primarily practice the Hokushin Ittō-ryū style, so Kyosuke followed suit and trained in that style. He didn’t learn anything particularly special—just the common Ittō-ryū techniques like downward cuts, repeated downward cuts, and more downward cuts.

Just kidding—he also practiced inside cuts, quick returns, thrusts, the “Second Move,” the “Shadow Blade,” and so on.

Well, they were all essentially variations of the downward cut. Learning came smoothly, and during sparring sessions at the dojo, he could easily take down much bigger seniors with a single strike. Yet, Kyosuke couldn’t help but wonder if the instructor was teaching him the right things.

Everything he was taught revolved around the downward cut—from front, back, left, right, to above and below—as if his eyes focused solely on his opponent’s hands.

He wasn’t sure if this so-called “kendo talent” also enhanced his physical abilities, but over the course of the month, his physique had indeed doubled in strength. If he wielded a bamboo sword now, he could take on twenty versions of himself from a month ago without trouble.

On the day before the holiday ended, inside the dojo, he struck down Yamamura Onozou’s bamboo sword with a single cut and was then declared graduated.

When Kyosuke received the “Menkyoshō” certificate from Yamamura Onozou, he was taken aback. He hadn’t expected the instructor to truly be a disciple of Hokushin Ittō-ryū, possessing the authority to confer such a certificate.

Different ancient martial arts schools have different rank systems. According to Yamamura Onozou, the “Menkyoshō” in Hokushin Ittō-ryū means that one has earned the right to declare the name of their style to others.

In other words, in future fights, he could dramatically shout, “Hokushin Ittō-ryū, Kyosuke Hojo,” to intimidate opponents.

The mere thought of that scene made Kyosuke shudder; he felt utterly embarrassed.

Yamamura Onozou also told him that to master deeper secrets and attain higher ranks, he would have to visit the main dojo of Hokushin Ittō-ryū in Tokyo.

Kyosuke sensed that the instructor was eager for him to go. After all, he was a prodigy who earned the Menkyoshō in just a month, and perhaps the instructor wanted his disciple to make a name for himself at the main school, boosting his own reputation.

Though he promised to go when asked, Kyosuke promptly dismissed the idea afterward. His purpose in learning kendo had been fulfilled; with these downward-cut techniques, he was confident he could protect himself and those around him.

As for the “Science Talent” gift from Shoko, he found it somewhat underwhelming. After all, in his previous life, he was a science student, and the science subjects he was studying now were a breeze. It was the “Japanese” and “Social Studies” subjects—covering geography, history, and politics—that gave him more trouble.

But reflecting on the scope of “Science,” he brightened again. The middle school science curriculum was fully included, as were high school math, physics, chemistry, and biology, plus university-level majors. Even if it wasn’t useful now, it would make university entrance exams much easier in the future.

After Kyosuke brought the Menkyoshō certificate home, Mikiko Hojo felt reassured and returned to her hometown in Hokkaido to spend time alone with Ichiro Hojo. She even made an unprecedented exception to approve Kyosuke’s application for commuting and helped rent an apartment for him in Bunkyo Ward, where his school was located—of course, using Kyosuke’s scholarship.

Kyosuke was speechless at this. Before applying, he hadn’t known that Tojo Middle School was an all-boys school.

All the preparations before the exam had been handled by Mikiko Hojo; he only took the test. It wasn’t until he was accepted that he realized it was a boys’ school.

Speaking of his scholarship, it was a bittersweet story. He had refused to give the speech as the freshman representative at the entrance ceremony. But the principal told him that giving the speech was a condition of the scholarship, so he had no choice but to comply.

Time quickly rolled into April.

Today was the first day of school, with nothing memorable aside from the long, tedious entrance ceremony. Oh, except for a few classmates with strange hairstyles who openly declared themselves delinquents during introductions—that was somewhat interesting.

After school, on the subway back to his rented room, Kyosuke struggled against the packed crowd.

Damn it, he wished he could buy an entire subway car to ride alone!

Lost in such thoughts, an abrupt voice came from ahead.

“Excuse me, please make way, sorry, sorry…”

A girl kept apologizing as she squeezed past and stopped right in front of Kyosuke.

This was rather rare in Japan, where most people just stand still after boarding.

Curious, Kyosuke looked at the girl who had pressed up beside him and then remained still.

Her hairstyle was impressive, clearly styled with care: two braided pigtails joined at the back of her head, tied together in a red-and-yellow ribbon shaped like a butterfly.

She wore a white blouse, a beige knitted vest, and a pleated skirt. Her slender calves were exposed, and her thighs were dazzlingly white.

In summary, she was a very cute girl. Even with her head bowed, he could see the rosy flush on her fair face and the beads of sweat on her snow-white neck.

Was she just exhausted from squeezing through the crowd?

As Kyosuke appraised her, the girl suddenly lifted her head and caught him staring.

Seeing Kyosuke looking at her, Mitsuha Miyamizu clearly startled, quickly lowering her head again, growing even more shy.

But recalling the day’s exhausting search and the pain in her feet, she summoned the courage to lift her head once more.

Ah, this guy was so annoying—still staring straight at her.

Seeing Kyosuke’s expression as if he didn’t recognize her at all, Mitsuha grew a bit angry.

She had traveled all the way from Itomori early that morning, called him repeatedly with no answer, and wandered all over this “strange” city alone, even going to his school but still couldn’t find him.

Unexpectedly, at the very end, she encountered him at the subway station. She had already given up; she was about to take the subway to the station and then catch the Shinkansen back to Itomori.

For a moment, neither spoke. Kyosuke watched as the girl’s expression shifted from bashful and coy to full-on anger, her lips puffed out in a pout.

“Um…”

Just as Kyosuke was about to say something, the girl suddenly called out his name.

“Kyosuke!”