章 162: I won
As he turned to deliver a horizontal slash, Miyajima Sakura, who had already anticipated his reaction, withdrew her feint and moved swiftly into his blind spot, lunging at his masked neck with a thrust.
Sensing the incoming thrust from his left rear, Sasaki rotated his wrist while leaning back, and narrowly avoided her attack.
Ignoring the bamboo sword that grazed his mask, he then swung his sword in a broad arc towards the exposed Miyajima Sakura.
Still in her thrusting stance, the girl now faced two choices: she could go head-to-head in a direct exchange, hitting his right elbow while taking a hit on her left shoulder, or she could play it safe and retreat to avoid his strike altogether.
However, considering the disparity in their strength, a direct exchange might not be in her favor.
In a split second, weighing her options, Miyajima Sakura, determined to wear Sasaki down, maintained her thrust while lowering her left elbow to block.
Thwack!
The bamboo sword hit her left forearm guard, sending a slight numbness through her arm.
Miyajima Sakura instinctively glanced at Sasaki, realizing he had instinctively pulled his strength.
This, however, meant she couldn't retreat smoothly with the force he applied.
Worse, her bamboo sword was now trapped under his arm.
Just as she exerted force to free her sword, Sasaki unexpectedly released it, causing her to stumble backward.
?!
Miyajima Sakura, caught off guard and tilting backward, instinctively tapped her heels against the wooden floor of the training area to regain her balance, producing a series of light 'thud' sounds.
Before she could steady herself, Sasaki, anticipating this, advanced with his sword held high, ready to strike.
"Despicable!"
A male trainee, watching the match and harboring feelings for Miyajima Sakura, couldn't help but mutter in frustration.
As her fiancé, Sasaki should be gentle during a mere spar, but he showed no restraint at all.
He has absolutely no gentlemanly manners. How could Miyajima-senpai fall for such a man?
'If it were me, I would definitely...'
Unaware of the male trainees' dissatisfaction, Miyajima Sakura didn't find Sasaki's actions bothersome.
In a warrior's battle, any holding back would be seen as disrespectful.
She had been training since the age of seven and has accumulated eleven years of experience.
Throughout these years, she had defeated countless opponents and earned numerous accolades.
Never had she, the heir of the Miyajima style, needed someone to hold back to achieve victory.
If Sasaki ever made her feel he was holding back, she would definitely ignore him for a long time.
Unaware of Miyajima Sakura's thoughts, Sasaki watched her awkwardly sidestep his vertical strike.
He gauged the distance between them and then took a step back, lowering his stance, and holding his sword in a peculiar posture.
"Sakura, have you had enough?"..
.
.
.
Seeing Miyajima Sakura's pupils contract, clearly anticipating his move, Sasaki smiled and lightly teased before leaning forward and swinging his bamboo sword.
Watching the approaching strike, the girl recalled her mother's warnings about this legendary sword technique.
Despite never having experienced it firsthand, her mother's vivid descriptions of its eerie and unavoidable nature hadn't provided any practical help.
However, unlike her mother, who was caught off guard, Miyajima Sakura knew about this technique in advance.
Though she hadn't figured out a way to counter it, she wouldn't be taken by surprise.
Just as she prepared to meet the blow head-on, she recalled Sasaki's earlier step back.
'Is he trying to adjust the distance?'
Uncertain if this would counter the "(Tsubame Gaeshi) Swallow Reversal," and with no other options, Miyajima Sakura decided to act.
Her white, delicate feet lifted slightly, her toes like tiny milk candies, tensed as her leg muscles engaged.
And he pale pink sole, like a fallen cherry blossom, pressed firmly onto the cool, smooth wooden floor.
Leaning forward, Miyajima Sakura advanced with large strides, her sword held at her right side, meeting Sasaki's fierce gaze.
As she began to doubt her move under the pressure Sasaki exerted, she noticed a fleeting look of surprise in his eyes.
That surprise seemed to stem from her actions, or perhaps...
Before she could analyze further, Sasaki, frowning under his mask, swung his sword.
Her vision suddenly darkened.
A line of bamboo-yellow light in the darkness grew larger in her sight.
The eerie sensation her mother had described about facing the "Swallow Reversal" sent a shiver down her spine causing her quickly swung her bamboo sword.
But she didn't aim at the incoming blade on her left or above.
Instead, she targeted the right side, betting on where the final blade strike would appear, as her mother had described.
Just as she swung, a bamboo-yellow 'line' appeared above her head.
Almost simultaneously, she felt impacts from her left and above.
Thwack—
Thwack—
Thwack—
Three indistinguishable snapping sounds echoed in her ears.
When her vision cleared, she saw Sasaki's bamboo sword striking her mask while her own sword hit his left shoulder.
Blinking with a confused yet adorable expression that belied her stern brows, Miyajima Sakura barely had time to catch her breath before she saw Sasaki lowering his sword and preparing to bow.
Since their sparring had not followed the formal rules of a kendo match except for the victory conditions, Miyajima Sakura had momentarily forgotten about bowing.
Feeling embarrassed for her lapse in etiquette, she mimicked the boy's motion, bowing briefly before preparing to straighten up.
Before she could move, Sasaki's large feet appeared in front of her.
Recognizing them as Sasaki's, Miyajima Sakura was about to look up when she heard him say:
"Don't move yet, I'll take off your mask."
After removing her helmet, Miyajima Sakura, who had her long blue hair wrapped in a white headscarf, took off her arm guard and was about to raise her hand to wipe the sweat from her temples and forehead when Sasaki, who was a few steps away from her stepped forward and embraced her.
Huh?
As confusion arose in her heart, Miyajima Sakura remembered their earlier bet.
Realizing that Sasaki intended to claim his prize right here,in front of everyone, her face, already red from the heat of the helmet, turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
Though the protective gear prevented her from feeling much, the thought of Sasaki's imminent actions and the warm scent of his sweat made her feel as if she were standing in the scorching summer sun, causing her to feel dizzy.
Feeling the intense, burning gazes around her, Miyajima Sakura lifted her sweat-streaked, flushed face and, in a voice much softer than before, said to Sasaki:
"We can't do that here..."
As she spoke, she lightly pushed against the boy with her soft, red and white hands.
Ignoring her weak attempts to push him away, Sasaki looked down at her face, as red and dewy as a ripe tomato, with a touch of sweat glistening on it.
Unable to resist, he lifted his hand, cupped her warm, soft face, and squeezed her cheeks gently.
"It's fine because I won~"
As he spoke, Sasaki looked at the beautiful lines clearly visible on the moist, inviting lips and slowly lowered his head.
"No, you didn't..."
?!
"Mmm~hmm~?"
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