kscans

Chapter 182 - From Student to Teacher

"—So, after the skill manifested..."

"And stop."

It was likely to explain his own position on the matter.

I had remained silent since Irori began his life story, listening to his heavy past—but I had to stop the guy who kept speaking in such an unbelievably light tone.

"What is it? I'm still in the middle of my story."

"Don't 'what is it' me. You... you told me to 'just listen, it's no big deal,' and then..."

What do you mean, no big deal? Huh?

"...Is your left hand still bad?"

I may have only done club activities in middle school, but I understand what it means for an athlete to injure their body.

If he weren't speaking in such a dazed tone, I would have hesitated to ask directly—but Irori just laughed, playfully waving the left hand of his virtual avatar, which was unaffected by the injury.

"My rehab went well. I didn't get most of my grip strength back, but I've recovered enough that it's not a problem for daily life."

"...I see."

I think that's good. But I don't feel like saying it out loud.

"Why are you looking so down? I'm not done with my story, and I told you from the start that it's not a negative one."

"If this isn't negative, what's wrong with your mental makeup...?"

"So anyway... I bowed my head to Sensei that same day and stopped attending the dojo."

"Continuing on so matter-of-factly in this context is an act of hostility towards my mental health, you know?"

I glared at him with narrowed eyes, but Irori just scoffed and seemed to have no intention of stopping his story. He opened his mouth, which had been steadily adding to the load on my stomach, and shot me a mocking look.

"Are you sure you were listening to me properly from the start? I don't know why you're making such a pained face on your own."

"I'm making this face because I was listening, you know?"

"Then you must be lacking in reading comprehension."

What did you say, you bastard? I'm a current humanities university student—

"—I'm the kind of guy who, after having the path of kendo I'd devoted myself to since childhood closed off, only felt a little sad."

"Huh...?"

"I can't master the Sword Saint's technique? The system deemed me unfit? So what—you think something like that would make me give up?"

—..................,

"Ehh..."

What's with this guy, he's scary... Is he a mental monster?

"No, you can't be serious..."

"Sure, it'd be a lie to say I wasn't frustrated. But just because I can't follow in her footsteps doesn't mean I can't catch up to her."

He let out a faint smile, completely natural... and I could tell that every word Irori spoke was his true feeling.

"If one path is closed, I just have to find another and run down it. It's nothing to repeat what I learned when I came to this virtual world."

"..."

..................Haaah.

Haaaaah... What is with this guy???

—Dude, that's way too cool.

"Sensei's... the path of the [Sword Saint] didn't suit me. So I'll forge my own sword on a different path—and I'll stand beside her, the one I fell in love with at first sight that day."

Leaving me speechless and dumbfounded, the [Sword Protector] looked off into the distance and concluded his words.

"I have a body that can't be broken no matter what happens. If I keep running without stopping... I'll reach her someday."

...Seriously, what am I supposed to say?

No matter what words I choose, I can't imagine they'd be a fitting response in this situation—as I remained silent, thinking this, Irori turned back to me, broke the atmosphere, and offered a light smile.

"When I say 'love at first sight,' I mean as a swordswoman. It's not that kind of meaning, so don't tease me, kouhai."

"...Haaah, who's the one teasing now..."

Sunk, swallowed, and released—my emotions had been thoroughly stirred up, and all I could manage was a weak, drained reply.

"...So? What was with that strange look you were giving me?"

It was the thing I brought up, the 'something on your mind' part. I still hadn't heard the answer to that, so I shot him a sideways glance—

"'Expectation.' And... well, 'gratitude.'"

"Expectation and gratitude...?"

The answer Irori gave so casually, as if it were nothing, was the complete opposite of what I had imagined.

"You probably thought that I, the 'student,' was jealous of you, the 'disciple,' right? Hah, don't underestimate me."

"Well, uh, I mean..."

Given the circumstances, that's what anyone would think, right...?

Irori, back to his usual self, poked me as I averted my face, having been called out. The fact that he aimed squarely for my solar plexus was probably a sign of his displeasure.

"I have no regrets about leaving Sensei's side. But I did feel indebted. I was only ever on the receiving end; in the end, I... couldn't give anything back to her."

As his words suggested, he probably had no regrets. And as he spoke of his debt—his usual refreshing smile didn't seem likely to falter anymore.

"I told you I welcomed you, right? I had 'expectations' for you—I thought that you, who could use the 'outer' force without even knowing it, might be able to master her techniques."

"...You noticed, back in the selection match?"

"Of course. Whose student do you think I am?"

He had expectations, he said—and for this guy who, like someone else, looks only straight ahead, his feelings were surely much greater than his words could convey.

I could guess that from how he had been actively approaching me since the match, even while trading lighthearted jabs.

And it wasn't so much for my sake, but rather—

"You lived up to my expectations perfectly, Haru."

For her, the one he surely revered more than anyone else.

A repayment from 'student' to 'teacher,' by delivering a 'disciple.'

"...Not content with just the match, I'm in the palm of your hand again, huh?"

"What, are you dissatisfied? I have no intention of apologizing this time."

Messing with me, you've got to be kidding me, you bastard.

"How could I be dissatisfied...? —Thanks, senpai."

"The pleasure's all mine. I'm glad you came to this world, kouhai."

He extended his hand, an invitation for a handshake we had exchanged several times before.

But this time, it felt so heavy that I hesitated to accept it so readily—when I took it, the 'left hand' that gripped mine was indeed heavy.

"Take care of Sensei—let her fulfill her dream to her heart's content."

With the weight of expectations from both my master and him pressing down on me, I couldn't help but let out a wry smile—and grip his hand back firmly.