PART 2
That night, when he arrived late to his night training, Zenjoh and Munakata were already in the dojo. As always, Zenjoh sat inside while Munakata sat at the window, facing away from each other, but when Kusuhara entered, the tension eased.
“I can’t really spread out large things in my office.”
“It’s ready.”
Once the normal preparation was done, Munakata switched places with Kusuhara and continued the puzzle. First, he carefully adjusted the placement of the completed pieces, then took a handfull of pieces from the pile, picked out one and carefully observed it with narrowed eyes. Then, slowly, he placed it in one place on the floor. Sometimes, he would place a piece together with one he’d placed down earlier and they would fit together perfectly, but for the most part pieces were left placed individually on the floor. Basically… Munakata wasn’t putting them in place by trial and error, but in one go. Piece by piece -- he was putting the pieces down on the floor using an invisible guideline.
“There’s nothing strange about this, Kusuhara-kun,” Munakata spoke, continuing to work. “If the edge of the piece is cut in a straight line, then it’s a piece on the edge of the puzzle. If there’s a part of an eye or nose on the piece, then it’s a piece that belongs on a face. Or, if there’s part of a letter on it, then it must belong on a book or sign. Besides that, there are countless other bits of information - the size of the piece itself, the shape, the cut pattern, arrangement, the ink on the front, the indentations on the back - that you can logically make up for.”
“If you look at the parts, you can see the whole… That is all.”
-- He is scary.
-- If I made an enemy out of him…
“Am I that frightening?” Munakata said, without looking up.
“An honest one, you are.” There was slight laughter in Munakata’s voice. “To be fearful of those different from you is a normal human emotion… I’m also afraid of people like you, and like Zenjoh-san.”
“Yes. So please, scare me more.” Munakata looked up, and pointed his eyes towards the inside of the dojo.
Kusuhara’s training used the fencing method as a base. When he was first appointed as Zenjoh’s “disciple,” he expected to be taught his style of draw and other techniques, but he refused - “Nah… My style’s not something I learned from someone else. And it’s not something I can teach others.” It wasn’t of a “something-style” system, but apparently just his own technique, mastered. Therefore, Zenjoh’s advice to him was, “You, too, should forge your own style.”
He would first recall what he observed of Zenjoh’s bearing during the day. All he could ever remember was the incredible draw with exploding power, but his regular movements were, rather, calm and slow. Like a large carnivore carrying his weight gracefully, one movement led to the next, and to the next. As he kept that in mind as he worked through the method, his movements changed from ambiguous pauses from commands to something like an aimlessly spinning dance. He thought it was something like old people practicing tai chi in a park.
He had conflicting impressions of Zenjoh’s “explosive draw” and “slow movements,” but they probably should be thought of as one and the same. They were movements, basically, for “a full-power attack at any moment.” In the normal fencing method, after the swing of the sword and the hold of the position, there was a space of a single breath before the next movement. An enemy attack in that space would even seal the “demon draw” of the beastly instinct in the same moment. And so, slow movements would eliminate that space.
When he realized that, he felt a shiver shoot up his back.
And,
Keeping Zenjoh in mind, he adopted those movements as his own. In these past few weeks, those movements were turning into something that only belonged to him, different from both the regular fencing method and Zenjoh’s actions.
“--Kusuhara-kun. How is your match with Awashima-kun going?”
“I see,” Munakata said, examining the piece he had in his hand. “...Though I’ve heard you’ve gotten to quite a good place.”
“However, you lack spirit… Or rather, it seems you’ve taken comfort in this place.”
“...Zenjoh-san?” When Munakata called out suddenly to him, Zenjoh’s body sitrred. “Don’t you think it’s about time to let Kusuhara-kun go?”
“Well then, let’s decide a deadline - one more week.”
“The joint training next week will be your last chance. If you don’t hit Awashima-kun with your training sword at your next faceoff, Kusuhara-kun, I will advise you quit on the grounds that you are unfit as a member of Scepter 4,” Munakata condemned, a slight smile on his face.
†
“Pardon my intrusion. Please put away my puzzle,” Munakata said, and left the dojo.
Defeat Lieutenant Awashima in one more week.
It was though cold water had been poured over him. Though he had been told to “defeat the Lieutenant,” he had done nothing to accomplish that. His punishment for his indolence had just been handed down to him.
“Hm.” Zenjoh took his sword in his hand and stood up. It was already time to stop for the night. “Continue as usual.”
It probably meant “This has nothing to do with me,” but when Zenjoh said it, he calmed. There was no point in getting worked up about it now. All he could do now was do what he could, little by little. Kusuhara took the basic stance of the fencing method.And--
“Continue.”
One, two, three, four - in the breaths between the slow movements of the training sword, Zenjoh suddenly stuck his sheath in.
For a moment, he thought he was going to disarm him, but Zenjoh’s sheath touched Kusuhara’s shoulder, without impeding his movements, and supported him. And then, his sword moved faster than normal, and the connection between movements changed a little. They were faster, more smooth…
“Keep going,” Zenjoh said again, and Kusuhara nodded.
As he continued his quick-paced training with all his might, the five styles and the 40 forms of the fencing method changed, fused, and were once again broken down.
That was when Hidaka and the others paid a visit to the old file room.
“If you need something from him, I’ll relay the message…” Zenjoh said.
“Um… Zenjoh-san, thanks for taking care of Kusuhara.”
Enomoto and Fuse both lowered their heads, and behind them,
“Hey… Man, that’s not what we’re talking about at all!” Hidaka teased Gotoh.
With Zenjoh’s support, Kusuhara’d gone through the fencing method countless times, and he’d sweated so much all over that his dogi practically clung to his body. But his strength and vitality had mysteriously recharged, and his senses were sharper than they had ever been before. He even felt every sign - the night wind blowing through the wheat, the single smile Munakata left after he’d come to check up on him, and even the tiniest movements Zenjoh made in front of him.
Suddenly, Zenjoh’s sheath flew, hitting Kusuhara square in the right foot with the point.
Zenjoh nodded slightly and said, “That’s all for today.”
“Lieutenant! One match please!” He called out to Awashima, and as always, took their places for a one-on-one match.
Lieutenant Awashima may or may not have known that. If she did know, then she probably wouldn’t go easy on him.
“--Kusuhara, go for it!”
Gotoh and Enomoto exchanged looks. “Hey… Isn’t he dragging his foot?”
There was a bit of discomfort left on the foot that Zenjoh had hit. When Kusuhara asked why Zenjoh had done that this morning and the night before, all he would say was, “Good luck in your match,” and didn’t tell him the reason. At any rate, he didn’t think that his foot would be a good excuse to Munakata. All he could do was go up against Awashima with all he had.
Readied, they faced each other.
Awashima’s words acted as the signal for the start of the match.
“Yaa!” Kusuhara burst forward with a yell. It was the same counter-attack pattern. But--
When Kusuhara lunged forward with his right foot, he couldn’t endure the pain and his body fell forward.
For a second, the tip sunk into her chest.
The troops stirred.
“Ow, ouch…!” Unable to stand the pain in his foot, he took two, three steps, then fell to his knees. Awashima approached him.
“Ah… Ma’am!” Kusuhara hurriedly stood, and Awashima switched her sword to her left hand, then bowed. “Huh…?”
†
The Scepter 4 troops’ dorm bath could accommodate, at the most, around ten people. From the evening until lights out, the troops that lived in the dorms hastily bathed in rotation, by section. Zenjoh Goki would enter the empty bath once that had all finished. The space was empty, but left the faint trace of enthusiasm and clamor of a hundred troops who’d washed off the day’s sweat and dirt.
“...I’ll wash your back,” Kusuhara said to Zenjoh, who was washing himself with one hand.
“Zenjoh-san.”
“Um… Thank you for teaching me so much all this time.”
“...Now that you mention it, that might be true.” Zenjoh smiled wryly at Kusuhara’s honest answer. But, “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” he explained himself hurriedly. “I feel like Director Munakata didn’t tell me to learn from something taught by you.”
“Look carefully, watch and learn… He said something like that.”
“Yes, for example,” Kusuhara said, scrubbing Zenjoh’s wall-like back, “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but your back.”
“Of course.” This time Kusuhara smiled wryly. “Your back is very muscular… Especially from your spine and to the right.”
“This is basically all what you’ve built since you lost your left hand… Right?”
After a pause, Kusuhara spoke. “Um… When I first met you, I was a bit flustered.”
“Up until last year, I was a part of the riot police… But because of me, one of my seniors got seriously injured and had to quit…” Kusuhara spoke slowly, choosing his words. “That was an incident involving superpowereds, so I thought this could be like, amends… I thought that there was something I could do, so I joined Scepter 4, but that wasn’t going so well…”
“Yes. I essentially thought I could take back my failure… But this past month, watching your back, I thought that, maybe, that’s not what it is.”
“Looking at your back, I’ve thought… That you can’t take back what you’ve lost, but people can grow again from there.”
-- I feel like I can be saved.
“Pardon me.”
“...Kusuhara-kun, I heard about this afternoon.”
“Heheh… To think you would actually be able to strike Awashima-kun.”
Munakata answered a dumbfounded Kusuhara with a sly smile. “Zenjoh-san’s instruction was also splendid,” Munakata said, facing Zenjoh. “Extending the reach and speed of a hit by relaxing the forward foot and falling into the opponent - there is a skill like that in old-style swordsmanship.”
“Huh…” Kusuhara looked at his still-bruised foot.
By both the threat of being fired and his foot, he felt like he was being tricked by these people. However,
“Unconscious…?”
-- I see…
“Use your talent to watch my back.”
Kusuhara bowed deeply to Munakata, completely naked and still sitting on a bath stool.
“Eh…” Kusuhara instinctively looked at Zenjoh, and Zenjoh nodded. “Yes!” And he faced Munakata’s back.
Then, he gazed towards a nervous Kusuhara who was facing Munakata’s back.
Before he realized it, he felt as though the baggage he’d been carrying all these years had been let down from his shoulders. Or maybe Kusuhara had washed it off a few moments before.
And Zenjoh answered, “It’s a nice bath.”
†
One week later, Kusuhara Takeru died on duty.
Translator notes -
[1]: About 3.3 square meters, or 35.5 square feet.