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582 — Her Name is Miyamizu Mitsuha
🕑 Added 2025-10-11 16:07:52 +0000 UTCHimeno Seiko lost her balance after stepping on the hem of her kendo uniform.
Stumbling forward, she lurched straight toward Hojou Kyousuke.
To call it a “fall” hardly seemed fitting — even in that chaotic moment, her posture remained elegant, almost like a celestial maiden descending from an ancient painting.
The collar of her kendo gi had somehow come loose, revealing a glimpse of smooth, porcelain skin beneath.
Some struggling dojos and desperate kendo clubs often trick unsuspecting newcomers by claiming that the slits on women’s hakama are scandalously high, letting you catch a glimpse of their beautiful white legs during practice.
Of course, that’s a lie.
Women’s hakama are no different from men’s — modest and proper.
You’d see more skin in a standard school uniform.
But that’s only true when you’re moving with proper kendo footwork.
Seiko, however, had been running.
And as she stumbled forward, the side slits fluttered just enough to reveal her slender calves and a flash of her thigh.
Arisugawa Ren, who witnessed everything, widened her eyes in shock.
‘So that’s her plan! Damn it, why hadn’t she thought of that first?’
Even Hojou Kyousuke — who had decided not to reach out and catch her — found his resolve wavering.
That delicate, fair skin would bruise terribly if she hit the hard wooden floor.
Just as a swordsman’s pride forbids a wound to the back, Hojou Kyousuke couldn’t stand the thought of someone getting hurt outside of battle.
His chivalrous heart simply wouldn’t allow it.
So—
He quickly passed his bamboo sword to his left hand and then—took a giant step backward.
The motion was sharp, catlike, as if he’d just spotted his own tail.
If Yukinoshita Yukino had seen that move, she’d never again doubt his flexibility.
Anyone who could twist like that had to be nimble.
She’d probably want to “test” it herself later.
That was one massive step — so much so that even if Seiko went full-on faceplant mode, her long wavy hair wouldn’t touch him.
Seiko’s eyes widened in horror.
She hadn’t held back at all; she’d thrown herself forward with everything she had, determined to crash right into Hojou’s chest.
She’d seen how hard that wooden floor was — the students from Higashi High had practically broken their noses on it earlier.
If her beautiful face hit that, she’d be ruined.
“Ah—!!”
She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing for impact.
But… miraculously, instead of pain, she felt herself sink into something soft.
Her body was surrounded by warmth, and her face—her face had landed in something that felt like the world’s softest pillow.
‘Eh? Hojou-kun’s body is this soft?’
Of course! Hojou-kun would never let her fall.
He was so kind, so gentle—he must have caught her.
Sure, his embrace didn’t feel as firm and muscular as she imagined, but it was comfortable, reassuring.
Even though she’d fallen with full force, he hadn’t budged an inch.
That’s what years of rigorous training would do. So cool!
A pleasant scent drifted into her nose as she slowly opened her eyes.
She blinked up, lashes fluttering, her face still flushed.
Looking up at the person holding her, she whispered softly—
“Hojou-kun… you smell really nice.”
At that exact moment, another voice — low, husky, and teasing — cut through the air.
“Well, mind telling me what exactly you’re doing to Kyousuke?”
“...Huh???”
Seiko’s eyes snapped open. Her expression shifted instantly — from dreamy and tender to pure shock.
The one holding her wasn’t Hojou Kyousuke at all. It was… some random girl!
“W-Who are you!?”
She jerked away like she’d been electrocuted, pushing off the stranger with both hands.
Only then did she realize that her face had just been buried right between that girl’s chest.
“Who am I? Didn’t you just say I smell nice?”
Miyamizu Mitsuha gave her a sideways glance, then casually brushed imaginary dust from her kendo uniform.
‘AAAAAHHHHH!’
‘Damn it, damn it, damn it!!’
Seiko’s face turned crimson.
Not only had she failed to pull off her “damsel in distress” plan to make Hojou her hero — she’d been saved by this random girl, and even complimented her scent!
And now the girl was acting like Seiko had contaminated her just by touching her.
Darkness swam at the edge of her vision; the sheer shame nearly made her faint.
The two girls stood in stark contrast.
Mitsuha calm and smirking, Seiko trembling with fury and embarrassment, as if she’d just been violated.
At the edge of the dojo, Arisugawa Ren was laughing so hard her stomach hurt.
“So, uh, little miss—what exactly were you doing just now? Practicing wrestling?”
Mitsuha smiled kindly as she asked, though her sharp, dark eyes gleamed with amusement.
The gentle jab landed perfectly, leaving Seiko’s face twitching between red and pale.
Shame quickly turned to anger.
She’d meant to use the fall as a way to get closer to Hojou and avoid getting scolded, but instead, she’d nearly broken her nose—and been caught by this interloper.
Wait a second… maybe Hojou stepped back because of her!
‘Damn it all!’
“What was I doing?”
Suppressing her rage, Seiko summoned every ounce of her noble upbringing, smoothing her expression into a refined, composed smile.
“As you can see, I was sparring with Hojou-kun — training. But you, miss, even if you’re wearing a kendo uniform, seem unaware that interrupting a match is quite dangerous. Might I ask who you are?”
Her poised retort made Mitsuha’s beautiful eyes narrow slightly.
Then, smiling faintly, she turned her head toward the man standing a few steps behind her.
“Hey, Kyousuke~ Would you do me a favor and answer the lady’s question for me? What’s my name again?”
Behind her, Kyousuke stood frozen, his face calm but his eyes wide with horror.
‘Crap. Crap crap crap!’
That was way too close.
A second more, and he’d have been done for.
The moment he’d started to reach out to catch Seiko, every hair on his arm had stood on end — a primal warning that if his “golden right hand” touched her, he’d never get it back.
He hadn’t even had time to think; he’d just dodged instinctively — and that’s when Mitsuha had appeared, already stepping into the dojo without anyone noticing.
Kyousuke exhaled slowly, heart still pounding.
He turned his head slightly, trying to see what his “brilliant strategist” Kisaki was up to.
He had been focused on sparring, but Kisaki should’ve noticed Mitsuha’s arrival.
That guy was the definition of loyal — always the first to greet Sakura or the others whenever they came to the dojo.
But what Kyousuke saw nearly made him burst out laughing.
There was Kisaki, standing awkwardly at the edge of the crowd with a strained smile… and a glass of water perfectly balanced on top of his head.
It didn’t wobble, didn’t spill — as if the cup itself were a magical seal.
‘Got it. Understood, Kisaki. You’ve been sealed.’
No betrayal, no cowardice — just survival instinct.
Kyousuke had no doubt that if Kisaki dared to knock that glass off, Mitsuha would personally reward him with five hundred rounds of sparring.
Still, Mitsuha’s swordsmanship had grown terrifyingly sharp.
For her to get this close without him noticing — that said everything.
Sure, he’d mentally “whitelisted” his family so their presence didn’t trigger his instincts, but even then, she was on another level.
When Mitsuha turned to him with that teasing smile, Hojou immediately matched her expression, not daring to hesitate.
“Mitsuha,” he said smoothly, “her name is Miyamizu Mitsuha — my girlfriend (彼女).”
“Girlfriend (彼女)?!”
The word hit the crowd like a thunderclap.
Himeno Seiko’s eyes widened, her pupils trembling.
Technically “Girlgriend (彼女)” could just mean “she,” but come on — everyone knew what it really meant.
Girlfriend.
“Yes,” Mitsuha replied sweetly, clearly satisfied with his answer. “His girlfriend.”
Her knowing smile said everything:
‘Good boy. You’re safe for now.’
No one dared to breathe until a loud voice suddenly shattered the tension.
“It’s the Shukuchi Technique!“
The shout came out of nowhere.
Hikigaya Hachiman blinked and turned toward the sound.
Oh. It was Hatake Gorou. That made sense.
“Yeah, yeah! It’s the same instant-step move the boss just used! I didn’t know Miyamizu-san could pull it off too!”
“Guess that means Hojou’s been privately tutoring her!”
“Damn, I wish I got private lessons from the boss.”
“Dream on. Even with plastic surgery, you wouldn’t make the cut.”
“…”
The dojo instantly filled with chatter.
Everyone from Rampaging Angel recognized Mitsuha — one of the few “official” girlfriends of the great Hojou Kyousuke.
But the visitors, Himeno Seiko and Arisugawa Ren, were completely lost.
“Wait—Miyamizu Mitsuha? That Miyamizu?” gasped Saimeiji Mizuki, her face lighting up. “The two-time national women’s kendo champion?!”
Mitsuha flashed her a warm smile and nodded, clearly pleased by the recognition.
The younger girl practically squealed in excitement, grabbing Ren’s arm and gushing nonstop about the legendary female swordsman from Nara.
The one who once beat down the school’s top bully in a bathroom showdown and went on to lead her no-name academy to back-to-back national victories before getting into Tokyo Women’s University.
Ren listened, her expression twisting with every sentence.
‘So she’s that kind of rival, huh?’
Still, she couldn’t help but think — thank God she wasn’t the one up against Mitsuha right now.
‘You can do it, Seiko! Show her what a true queen from Shiwa Academy is made of!’
She silently cheered for her friend, though she had no intention of stepping in herself.
There was something about the confident, ponytailed Mitsuha — standing there in her kendo gear like she owned the place — that made Ren lose the will to interfere.
“Even if you’re good at kendo, so what?” Himeno Seiko said stubbornly, biting her lip.
“You can’t possibly be stronger than Hojou-kun. I was training with him — sparring! I’m Himeno Seiko, captain of Shiwa Academy’s Kendo Club, and I’m here for the interschool training camp hosted by Kaihin High!”
Her voice trembled but didn’t falter. The girl had spirit — and that caught Mitsuha’s attention.
It reminded her of herself, back when she’d first swapped lives with Hojou.
Surrounded by prodigies like Eriri, Sakura, and Shouko, she’d been a bundle of nerves — never this brave.
This girl deserves some respect, Mitsuha thought.
“That’s a coincidence, then.” She smiled radiantly.
“I’m a first-year at Ochanomizu Women’s University, invited by Hojou to help instruct the female participants of this camp. My swordsmanship isn’t as refined as his, but I should be good enough to teach you.”
Seiko’s nose twitched in defiance — but before she could reply, Saimeiji Mizuki had already started clapping like crazy.
“Amazing! Hojou-senpai actually brought in Mitsuha-senpai as an instructor! We’re so lucky!”
The cheer spread fast, and the girls from Kaihin High all turned pale.
Hojou, meanwhile, could read Mitsuha’s intentions like an open book.
He sighed quietly and shot a sympathetic look toward Seiko and Ren.
He wanted to tell Mitsuha to take it easy — but his survival instincts kicked in.
Better to keep his mouth shut.
“Then it’s settled,” Mitsuha said brightly. “Hojou, you’ll be the referee. And if any of the girls happen to trip again… you can help catch them.”
No one dared object.
Even knowing she was outmatched, Seiko refused to back down.
She stepped forward immediately.
“Bow!” Hojou called.
Both girls bowed, clad in full protective gear this time — Seiko had learned her lesson.
She wasn’t about to give Mitsuha another excuse to humiliate her.
“Men!”
A crisp strike.
Before Seiko even realized what happened, her wrist stung sharply.
Kyousuke raised his flag. “Point, Miyamizu Mitsuha.”
“Still sharp as ever,” he commented.
Mitsuha grinned, wrinkling her nose playfully. “Of course~.”
“Go, Boss Lady Mitsuha!”
“That hand strike was pure art! Truly the Devil’s Sweetheart!” Onizuka Eikichi shouted from the crowd.
“…”
As the dojo erupted in cheers again, Himeno Seiko clenched her jaw, refusing to yield.
Her bamboo sword rose once more.
The real match was only just beginning.
