kscans

Chapter 173 - Master and Disciple

“…Um, Ui-san.”

“If you are concerned about your body, there is no need to worry.”

Somehow, I had managed to successfully use a combination of ‘Inner’ and ‘Outer’ forces, and perhaps as a backlash, my avatar was left unable to move a muscle.

It wasn't just heavy as lead; it was on another level. I literally hadn't been able to move at all for what must have been ten minutes now.

According to the Sword Saint, who had carried me to the veranda and laid me down— “I was in a similar state when I first succeeded with Shukuchi.” The side effects would apparently dissipate after a few dozen minutes, so I wasn’t worried about that.

She said that with repeated training, the paralysis would stop happening, so I wasn’t worried about that either—so why, then, was I giving her a rather pointed look as she smiled at me?

“No, that’s not it… I’m really fine with you just leaving me on the floor…”

“No, I cannot.”

That was a textbook example of an irrefutable statement.

My head was resting on her lap, just like that other time, and my dead-weight body was at her mercy. No matter how much I asked or pleaded, she wouldn't let me go—and not only that, she was now stroking my hair with obvious delight, which was unbearable.

I’m an eighteen-year-old male university student, someone you could no longer honestly call a “child.” What kind of expression was I supposed to make while a woman four years my senior gave me a lap pillow and gently patted my head?

Really, what on earth was she thinking?

I was aware that we had been getting along well lately. However, this was definitely going too far, too fast.

There must be some reason for Ui-san’s change in attitude.

“—Grandpa… My grandfather used to say…”

As I stared at her, she must have understood my unspoken question.

With gentle, yet somewhat clumsy hands, she continued to stroke my hair, looking unaccustomed to the gesture, and offered a faint, sad smile.

“A student who is slow to learn is a cute student. A student who learns all you teach is a student to be proud of—and… a student who steals what you haven't taught is a bad student,” she said.

“A bad… student.”

Not understanding the intent behind her sudden story, I repeated the part that caught my attention… and as if to say, “I’m talking about you,” her fingertips brushed my bangs aside and gently tapped my forehead.

“How far will they grow? How much will they develop? How far beyond me will they go?—In that sense, they are a bad student, one who makes their teacher become completely engrossed.”

“I see…”

Stole what she hadn’t taught—that felt a little off, but… it was true that I had managed to imitate it through observation, without direct instruction.

Well, to be honest, that wasn’t Shukuchi at all. If I had to describe it, it was like I had just slammed the gearbox with a multi-stage accelerator to force an extra burst of speed.

It was nothing like the real thing, a version so inferior it would be presumptuous to even call it a cheap knock-off.

“I’m happy that you have high expectations for me, but… unfortunately, I don’t think there’s much more to it. That was probably my limit—”

“Haru-kun.”

She could be mischievous and pretend not to hear things at times, but Ui-san rarely interrupted others.

Surprised that she had cut in, I fell silent. The gray eyes looking down at me held a seriousness I had never seen before.

“All the techniques connected to my [Kesshiki Ittoryu] are based on the premise of Shukuchi.”

“Uh… yes, I suppose so.”

In our numerous sparring sessions, I had witnessed several of the Arts she had developed. Each and every one of them was an extraordinary, masterful technique that could be called the pinnacle of skill, but…

Unfortunately, they were far too difficult to reproduce. As she said, to master the Arts of Kesshiki Itto, Shukuchi—or rather, the simultaneous use of ‘Inner’ and ‘Outer’ forces required to learn Shukuchi—was an absolute prerequisite.

For example, the First Strike, Hisui—a sword technique of instantaneous speed that has no wind-up, making the contradiction of a frontal surprise attack a reality.

For example, the Second Strike, Uchigane—a sword of immense power that channels the momentum of a powerful step into centrifugal force, turning the fixed greatsword into a steel club capable of crushing steel.

There were no exceptions for any of the various sword techniques that followed.

“But… it is due to my own inadequacy. Many have asked, and I have tried my hand at teaching… but I have never been able to guide anyone to mastery.”

Her tone wasn’t bright, but there was no shadow in the expression of the Ui-san looking down at me. Knowing her, a person who always looks forward, she had probably already come to terms with it in her own heart.

“………Is that why you’re a ‘Sensei’ and not a ‘Shishou’?”

My bold question seemed to have hit the mark.

She blinked in surprise for a moment, then— “Even ‘Sensei’ is more than I deserve,” she murmured, smiling a little shyly.

“It would not be right for one who cannot properly bestow her techniques to be called a ‘Master’.”

…I see, that makes sense.

I’d felt a sense of dissonance ever since we first met. The [Sword Saint] and the [Sword Protector]—two rankers who both wielded swords, and yet Irori, who spoke of being taught by her, continued to call her ‘Sensei.’

It wasn't quite a question, just a faint feeling of strangeness… but normally, wouldn’t you call someone like that ‘Shishou’ (Master) instead of ‘Sensei’ (Teacher)?

“…I admired my grandfather. No, I still do, and always will—like my grandfather, I also… wanted to try teaching the sword to someone.”

However, the ‘techniques’ that Ui-san developed in the virtual world were far too unique.

No one but herself was ever able to master them—which led to that moment when Irori introduced me to her, when her face clouded over with hesitation… or so I gathered.

“I never wished for many. Just one person…—just one is enough. I want to become a ‘Master’, just like the person I admire.”

I thought I saw a fire in her eyes.

Deep within her gray irises, which stared intently, directly into mine,

I saw the burning heat of longing, a search for ‘someone.’

“—Haru-kun, please listen to my request.”

Whether she was rushed or flustered, Ui-san’s tone had always been calm.

I had never heard her voice like this before, laced with even the faintest tremor.

I couldn’t help but understand.

This situation, which for me was so sudden—for her, it must be the moment she had waited for, waited for, and longed for.

That I, who had managed to imitate the Shukuchi that so many players had failed to learn, could be the ‘someone’ she had been searching for.

“………Yes, what is it?”

I adopted a listening posture. Ui-san nodded, took a slow, deep breath, and then—

“—Will you become my ‘disciple’?”

The passion imbued in her words was so intense, one might have mistaken it for a confession of love.

That passion was transmitted directly to the very center of my heart.

I mean, come on—this is… irresistible, isn’t it?

To be wanted by someone from the bottom of their heart—it was surely a once-in-a-lifetime event, something that might never happen again.

My body still showed no signs of moving, and the situation couldn’t be less dignified… but I couldn’t keep the Sword Saint, who was eagerly awaiting my reply, waiting for long.

“…That is something I should be asking of you.”

This was truly more than I could have ever hoped for.

Following her example, I took a deep breath—

“If I am worthy, please make me your ‘disciple’.”

And so, to the ‘disciple’ who gave his pledge while in the utterly disrespectful position of borrowing her lap—

For just a moment, the expression of the ‘Master’ crumpled, before she returned a smile.

““I’m still inexperienced, but…””

Then, as if on cue, our voices overlapped. Without prompting from either of us,

we both let out a relieved laugh together.