Tokyo's Most Affectionate - Chapter 114

Limits

Archery places importance on shooting posture, conduct, and attitude.

In this regard, when the two followed the eight steps of shooting, entering a concentrated state with the bowstring fully drawn, it was truly pleasing to the eyes. 

Coupled with their outstanding talents and looks, it became even more so.

“Snap! Snap!”

“Thud! Thud!”

The archery of the two was exceptionally synchronized.

Doing something with someone you like and hitting the bullseye created a wonderful feeling. 

Shiromiya couldn’t help but raise the corners of her mouth.

Smiles are contagious, and sensing her good mood, Kurosawa felt the same way.

Joyful moments are fleeting because immersing oneself in them makes time pass unnoticed.

“Miss, it’s time.”

At half-past five in the afternoon, Akai looked at her watch and walked over.

Archery was quite exhausting, as every arrow required full effort.

“Alright, I’ll change my clothes first.”

Shiromiya was resting by the wall, nodded, and stood up.

Kurosawa observed this scene but didn’t follow, considering the separate changing rooms for men and women.

Before long, Shiromiya emerged from the changing room.

In contrast to the gallant figure in traditional Japanese attire, she now wore an elegant one-piece dress. 

Her black hair cascaded down behind her, and her slender, tall figure was complemented by a black designer handbag. She wore a pair of ankle-wrapped pure white socks, giving her a cute appearance.

This attire transformed her demeanor back into that of a cool, elegant young lady.

As for Akai, she followed behind Shiromiya, carrying a bag and a cloth-wrapped bundle over two meters long – the bow.

“Senior brothers and sisters, after bidding farewell to sensei, Mirai will be leaving.”

Shiromiya walked to the middle of the area, turned around, and bowed slightly to everyone inside. Her voice was pleasant, cold, and articulate.

Seeing her leave, everyone waved goodbye, accustomed to her departure routine.

“Are you leaving?”

At that moment, Sato arrived at the dojo.

“Sensei, I’ll come back next Sunday for your guidance.”

Shiromiya nodded slightly upon seeing him appear without needing to seek him out.

“Have a safe journey.”

Sato stood with his arms crossed, nodding.

“Kurosawa, here’s my phone number.”

After the formal farewell, Shiromiya didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she walked up to Kurosawa and handed him a note, whispering softly.

“Don’t you have Line?” Kurosawa glanced at the note, feeling a bit surprised.

“My mother forbids me from using such applications,” Shiromiya shook her head slightly.

“That’s strict.” Kurosawa couldn’t help but sigh.

Shiromiya made no comment on that. She turned and glanced at Akai. 

Then, she tiptoed to Kurosawa, brought her mouth close to his ear, and whispered softly.

“Also, I absolutely won’t accept engaging in anything with three people together. I can turn a blind eye to your playboy tendencies, but that’s my limit.”

“Alright.” Kurosawa’s spirits were lifted by this intimate whisper, and he nodded in agreement.

In fact, he hadn’t thought to this level yet; after all, there was still a long way to go.

“Goodbye.”

Reaching an understanding, Shiromiya waved her hand and bowed slightly.

“Goodbye.”

Seeing her formal farewell, Kurosawa was also influenced and bowed slightly.

After that, she turned and walked towards Akai, and they both headed towards the exit.

Watching the departure of the master and servant, the moment of parting arrived. Kurosawa remained silent, feeling quite sentimental and reluctant.

Today’s date, despite being restricted in many aspects, facilitated a profound exchange of thoughts, allowing him to understand Shiromiya better.

Upon careful consideration, he recalled having a similar situation on the first day he met Ichinose.

Comparatively, he hadn’t shared heartfelt conversations with Ninomiya yet.

“Aren’t you leaving together?”

Sato, seeing the two leaving, approached Kurosawa.

“It’s because I want to talk with you.”

Kurosawa shook his head and looked at the old but still formidable man. He spoke, acknowledging that there was much about Sato’s expertise in archery that he didn’t know. 

To gain the approval of Shiromiya’s grandfather, he needed his assistance.

“Alright, let’s go to the tea room.”

Seeing that Kurosawa was willing to stay and chat, Sato’s stern face suddenly broke into a welcoming smile.

“Join us, Uesugi-sensei.”

Kurosawa nodded, then looked towards the side.

“Next time, it’s a bit late now, and my wife and daughter are waiting for me to have dinner at home.” However, Uesugi didn’t agree and explained.

After exchanging pleasantries, they bid him farewell.

Leaving the dojo, Kurosawa and Sato walked along the wooden corridor of the residence and arrived at a tatami-floored tea room.

As they sat down, soon a woman dressed in a kimono, kneeling in front of the door, opened it.

“Excuse me.”

Then, she carried a set of tea utensils and entered, preparing tea for the two men.

“No need to be polite, sit as you please. Feel free to ask any questions. However, after you’re done asking, it will be my turn.”

Sato’s sitting posture was very casual, sitting on one knee. Despite the age difference, his attitude seemed to treat Kurosawa as a peer.

“I want to become a Hanshi. What should I do?” (1)

Kurosawa sat cross-legged and went straight to the point.

“Have you made up your mind?”

Seeing his determined attitude, Sato was somewhat pleased.

“Yes, if possible, I want to become a Hanshi within a few years.”

Kurosawa nodded, showing concern about the four-year deadline.

Perhaps life is long, but some things cannot wait.

“You don’t need to be in such a hurry; haste won’t help.”

Seeing that he wanted to become a Hanshi right away, and within a few years, Sato comforted him.

Kyudo is the most elegant martial art, it isn’t a competition with others but a challenge with oneself. It requires immersion, restraint, and patience.

This young man, despite his extraordinary archery skills, lacked refinement in his mindset. It was normal for a young person to be impatient in certain situations.

“It’s a critical matter.”

Kurosawa explained that he was not an impatient person.

“Do you have an understanding of the grading system in martial arts?”

Sato was aware of his situation but remained calm.

“Not much.”

Kurosawa hadn’t researched much about these matters.

Sato wasn’t very surprised by this, as he had discussed it with Uesugi. He then began to explain.

“Archery, like other martial arts, has grading levels from one to five and dan levels from one to ten. Beyond that, there are titles like ‘Renshi,’ ‘Kyoshi,’ and the highest title, ‘Hanshi.’

To be awarded the title of ‘Renshi,’ one must be at least a sixth dan in archery, publicly recognized in the archery community, participate in seminars, receive a completion certificate, and possess knowledge of archery forms, referee rules, instructional methods, as well as practical skills. Additionally, one needs to present a handwritten thesis proposing archery principles.”

“It’s that complicated?”

Kurosawa didn’t expect that being awarded a title would also require publishing a thesis.

“From Renshi to Kyoshi is even more challenging. It requires being recognized as Renshi for five years, evaluating one’s character, skills, insights, experiences, and outstanding instructional abilities. At this level, one can officially establish their own dojo.”

“I don’t have that much time.”

Kurosawa frowned upon hearing the requirement of five years.

“Under normal circumstances, following the rules, it would take at least fifteen years to be recognized as a Hanshi.”

“Are there any exceptions?”

Kurosawa was surprised by the strict requirements for the title of Hanshi, realizing how formidable the old man in front of him truly was.

“At the moment, there aren’t any, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be. Rules can be broken.” Sato’s lips gently curved upward, and his aged eyes glistened as he looked at the young man.

“What should I do?”

“In reality, you don’t need to be too concerned about the title of Hanshi. With your strength and potential, it’s just a matter of time. As for what you care about, as long as you demonstrate enough potential, it should be sufficient to get what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not necessary to become a Hanshi to gain recognition. Potential and strength can also achieve that. Just like today, without me saying much, you impressed my students with just two arrows.”

“Are you saying…”

Upon hearing this, Kurosawa felt a stir, sensing something important.

“I’ll bring my old friend to watch the finals of the archery competition during the summer vacation. You better perform well then.”

Sato nodded, confirming his speculation, and said with a smile.

“Is it that simple?”

“It’s not that simple, but there are many things I can help you with.”

“Why are you helping me like this?” Kurosawa was a bit surprised and not entirely clear.

After all, society in Neon was known for its cold and indifferent social ecology, where everyone tended to mind their own business. 

Moreover, when he first arrived at the dojo, he had offended Sato to some extent. Although they had reconciled later, it still seemed hard to justify such help.

“Appreciation? That sounds a bit arrogant. I should say it’s anticipation and affection.”

“Anticipation and affection?”

Kurosawa felt that this statement was contradictory and strange. 

Wasn’t affection more arrogant than appreciation?

“Your talent is truly rare. I’m curious to see how far you can go on the path of archery. As for the thorns and obstacles along the way, I’ll help you clear them. Affection is for the future. I don’t mind saying this frankly; I treat her as half a granddaughter and hope she finds happiness.”

Seeing his expression, Sato added.

Having lived for so many years, he could tell at a glance that the child, Shiromiya, really liked Kurosawa.

Since it wasn’t a matter of being incompatible but rather a perfect match, why wouldn’t he support it?

“I see.”

Kurosawa finally understood that when Sato talked about affection, he was referring to Shiromiya, not himself.

“Regarding the issue of becoming a “hanshi,” those who make outstanding contributions often receive special treatment. If you can establish your own school, promote archery, contribute to its development, and bring glory to archery, combined with the support of other “hanshi,” it’s possible to make an exception.”

“Is it only a possibility?”

“Becoming a ‘hanshi’ within a few years might not be realistic, but I can help you become an ‘instructor’ and let you establish a dojo.”

“Can I avoid opening a dojo?”

Kurosawa realized that performing well in the competition would be sufficient and immediately wanted to simplify things.

“Why not open a dojo? Opening a dojo is very profitable.” Sato didn’t expect this reaction from Kurosawa; he was momentarily stunned and decided to speak plainly.

“How profitable is it?”

Kurosawawas not familiar with this.

“I have 231 students, and there are over two thousand disciples at the Windchaser Dojo, scattered throughout the country. Several of the students you saw today are executives of listed companies, officials, and even presidents. Just the donations from the students to the dojo, can you guess how much it is in a year?”

“I have no idea.”

“1.5 billion yen, and that’s just their donations, not counting various authorized shops under the Windchaser Dojo.” Sato saw his confusion and explained with a smirk.

“Is archery so profitable?” Kurosawa was somewhat surprised.

Although the face value of the yen was relatively high, 1.5 billion was not a small amount.

“Wealth is an external thing; the key is status and reputation.”

Sato was not exaggerating because archery, as the most elegant martial art, had evolved into a noble sport and was not lacking in funds.

TL Notes:

1. 1. “Hanshi” (範士) is a Japanese term used in martial arts, including Kyudo (Japanese archery). In the context of Kyudo, a Hanshi is an individual who has attained a certain level of mastery and is often recognized as a teacher or instructor.