After his mock sparring with Park Jimin, rumors about him spread like wildfire through the Yamashiro Institute, but Jin tried his best to ignore them. He kept to himself, focusing on his training and daily chores, finding solace in the solo kata that helped center his mind. He was content to eat alone, finding peace in solitude rather than seeking attention.
Still, the gossip didn't fade. Tsurugi. His classmates, children of political heavyweights and corporate executives, couldn't reconcile that powerful name with the quiet, unassuming boy who seemed happiest tending fallen leaves in the Zen garden.
On a crisp, sunny afternoon, with the air scented of damp earth and pine, Jin was practicing breathing exercises by the ancient koi pond when fate intervened.
"So, the boy Tsurugi finally emerges from his hiding place," a voice cut through the serene atmosphere, sharp and dripping with arrogance.
Jin's eyes drifted open slowly, already aware of the approaching footsteps. Standing before him was Kenji Shimazu, flanked by two loyal companions—his usual entourage of admirers and those who followed out of fear. Shimazu Cybernetics, a corporate titan, belonged to Kenji's family, and he wore this status like a crown. His hair was meticulously styled, his uniform pristine, his features twisted with an undeserved sense of superiority.
Rising to his feet, Jin offered a slight bow. "Shimazu-san," he said, his voice steady and calm. "The garden does feel especially peaceful today."
Kenji sneered, his lips curling into a distasteful expression. "Peaceful? You're the reason this academy is in chaos. This absurd story of you defeating Seoul's corporate league's pride, Park Jimin. An unidentified fatherless boy with a name he has no right to."
He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "You bring shame upon the name of Tsurugi," Kenji declared with disdain. "In truth, you're nothing but a pretender—a nobody!"
Jin's expression didn't twist into anger as Kenji expected. Instead, a flicker of genuine sorrow passed over his features. He could sense the insecurity laced within Kenji's words, a desperate need for validation that fueled his cruelty.
"I understand why you might feel that way, Shimazu-san," Jin replied softly, his sincerity cutting through the tension. "But I don't wish to cause trouble or dishonor any name. I'm only here to learn the way of the sword, as Sensei Makoto has taught us all."
"You don't deserve to be here!" Kenji erupted, his composed demeanor shattering as he thrust an accusatory finger at Jin. "You're not worthy of the breath you take within these halls! I challenge you to a duel, right here and now!"
Despite the venomous words, Jin's face retained its respectful calm as he shook his head. "A fight serves no purpose, Shimazu-san. A duel between us would only prove something meaningless to those watching. We're both here to learn, not to prove who's better."
Kenji's features twisted into a mask of fury. "It would show you're a coward... Or perhaps," his voice sank to a malicious whisper, "your mother was just some peasant whore who clung to the Tsurugi name to make her bastard son seem important."
For a brief moment, Kenji blinked, and his grin faltered. In that fleeting second, he sensed a shift in the air around him, a subtle tension that hinted at something deeper lurking beneath the surface.
The soft-spoken, somewhat clumsy boy who always apologized and gave shy smiles was gone. In his place stood someone new—someone intimidating and resolute.
Jin stepped forward, his shadow extending in the fading afternoon light, commanding attention. The transformation was palpable, as if the very air around him had grown heavier, more substantial.
"Stop speaking about my mother, Shimazu-san," he said, his voice low and edged with intensity. "That's where I draw the line."
In that instant, the usual warmth in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a sharp focus that seemed capable of cutting through anything. His relaxed demeanor faded, replaced by a controlled anger that made his shoulders stiffen. When he finally looked at Kenji, the playful grin was gone, replaced by a serious expression.
"I accept your challenge. There are lines you don't cross—especially when it comes to my mother, who sacrificed everything for me."
Taking another step forward, he held Kenji's gaze without flinching. The intensity of his stare made several students in the crowd shift uncomfortably, as if feeling the weight of his presence.
Kenji felt a knot of anxiety forming in his chest. Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling, he let out a dismissive snort, stood taller, and tilted his chin up. "Tch. Trying to act tough now? Let's see if your sword can back up your words."
Kenji clutched his wooden sword tighter, his heart racing with a nervousness he'd never admit to.
Meanwhile, his companions, Takeshi and Ryo, dashed off toward the academy's inner garden paths, laughing excitedly. Their cackles echoed through the garden as they sprinted.
With a self-satisfied grin, Takeshi leaned toward a nearby student. "Shimazu-sama is going to destroy Tsurugi! He's going to knock him flat!"
"Hey! There's a duel in the gravel court!" Ryo shouted excitedly to classmates on the second-floor terrace. "Tsurugi Jin is about to get wrecked!"
Like moths to a flame, students gravitated toward the courtyard, some clutching half-eaten bento boxes, others activating AR recorders to capture the drama. The crowd grew rapidly, word spreading through the academy's communication networks.
Kenji stood confidently, soaking up the spotlight. His grin widened with each new onlooker.
"Perfect! This is the audience I need to show you your place, Tsurugi," he declared loudly enough for all to hear.
Jin remained unfazed. If he was scared, he hid it well beneath his calm exterior. His eyes fixed on the gravel at his feet, then glanced at Kenji, who had insulted his mother without hesitation.
Kenji dramatically lifted his wooden bokken like a badge of honor. "Remember this moment, Tsurugi! Everyone here will recall the day your face met the ground!"
Despite the tension, Jin stood firm, calm and collected. A strange shift occurred around them—Jin's presence seemed to weigh down the atmosphere, his breaths slower and more intentional, radiating cold resolve. The excited buzz of the crowd quieted, as if the sunlight filtering through the trees paused in respect.
Jin walked to the practice weapon rack with smooth, purposeful strides and selected a simple wooden bokken. It was nothing fancy, just well-used and shiny from hours of practice. Gripping the familiar weapon.
Kenji, enjoying his sense of power, clutched his sword tightly. He swung it through the air in dramatic arcs, showcasing its balance with a wicked grin.
As gravel crunched under their feet, tension mounted. Kenji struck an impressive jodan-no-kamae, raising his bokken high with bold confidence. He looked sharp and ready, a testament to his training with a private instructor, his eyes narrowed in anticipation.
In contrast, Jin remained relaxed, adopting a neutral chudan-no-kamae with his bokken at waist level. He wasn't focused on Kenji's stance or weapons; his gaze wandered past Kenji's shoulder, unfocused yet somehow attuned to everything around him.
"Get ready, you bastard!" Kenji growled, and without hesitation, he lunged forward.
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AN:
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