V2Ch4: The First Spark

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Translator: Xre

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After standing in line for about twenty minutes, we finally made it into the dome where the pool was located.

Ii-chan and I exited the men’s locker room and sat under a parasol near the concession stand. We’d agreed to meet the others here. Girls take longer to change than boys.

It was a bright, sunny day. Through the transparent ceiling, we could see a flawless blue sky and the shining sun. Thanks to the glass-covered dome, the indoor temperature was comfortably warm—hot enough to feel like summer, but not so hot you’d break a sweat.

It felt like midsummer.

I wanted to strip right down, but I couldn't take off my hoodie until I got in the water. There was a reason I couldn't undress in front of others. I always changed with my back to the wall during PE class. Ayaka had once caught a glimpse, though.

That concern was shared by him, too.

“Boo, this is boring. I wanna swim with you, Kazu-nii.”

Still not changed, Ii-chan clung to my side, mumbling under his breath. He gently rested his head on my shoulder. Seems he was planning to soak up as much affection as he could before the others arrived.

“You came along knowing how this would be, right?”

“I just… feel uneasy thinking the senpai might get ahead of me.”

The Shirasagi family has a long, storied lineage.

Girls born breech are required to live as boys until they turn eighteen. Otherwise, it's said, misfortune will befall the entire family. I'd heard the story once. It's that kind of superstition that binds Isami Shirasagi, the theater club's star performer.

“Actually, Kazu-nii… I'm wearing my swimsuit underneath this.”

“Oh?”

I glanced over and saw a faint glimpse of pale blue fabric through the oversized T-shirt under his windbreaker.

“Well, they do make bras for men nowadays.”

“It's a swimsuit! Geez!”

Because his clothes were so baggy, you wouldn't notice just by looking, but—pressed up against me like this, it was obvious.

“Hey, Kazu-nii?”

Ii-chan tugged my right arm closer and pressed that sensitive pale blue curve against it.

“Let's go somewhere private until the senpai show up, okay?”

“……”

“If we can't swim, at least I want you to see my swimsuit. …Please?”

With that bittersweet expression, even if it wasn't a swimsuit, people would definitely start suspecting she was a girl.

“Alright. Let's go.”

“Ehehe. I love you, Kazu-nii~”

Two boys, arm in arm, walking together. We got stared at, sure—but I convinced myself we were just presenting a vision of a forward-thinking couple. Just showing society what could be a new norm.

As we walked alongside the pool, a loud cheer erupted from a crowd near the southern end.

“What's that all about?”

“Looks like an outdoor stage. Maybe there's some kind of event?”

A live idol performance? Or maybe a dance show?

But there was no music playing.

Instead, we heard the sharp exhalations of breath—“Hah! Hah!”—the sound of leather scraping, and dull thuds like flesh striking flesh.

Basically, it sounded like a boxing gym or a full-contact karate dojo.

“Could be that Kiyohara brothers thing. Maybe they're filming a video.”

“Come on, let's just go?”

Ii-chan tried to tug me along, but his shoulder bumped into a man walking toward us.

“I'm so sorry!”

Fear swept across Ii-chan's face.

Standing before us was one of the very Kiyohara brothers we'd just been talking about.

Judging by his height, probably the youngest.

“Oh, what a shame. I guess you're not interested in us, huh?”

His voice was high-pitched.

He had a brown-dyed punch-perm hairstyle.

A flashy shirt tossed carelessly over a deeply tanned torso.

An expensive-looking necklace.

So far, he looked like the kind of guy you'd see in droves at a Don Quijote at midnight—but then came the extraordinary parts.

An abnormally thick neck.

Battered ears and a flattened nose.

Scars covered his face.

And when he grinned, his unnaturally white front teeth flashed.

No casual sportsman would end up looking like this. This was the face of someone who made combat sports his profession.

Flanking him were two women who looked like gravure idols—no, more like they were attached to him. Their skimpy, showy string bikinis gave off more vulgarity than sex appeal. He seemed like the type who wore women as accessories.

“But I'm interested. In you.”

“Eh? Um… I'm a guy, actually.”

As Ii-chan backed away with a nervous smile, the man reached out and grabbed the collar of his T-shirt.

“Eek!”

The scream was unmistakably that of a frightened girl.

As the shirt was yanked, a deep, cleavage-revealing valley of soft blue was exposed.

“Heh… With t*ts like those, you're really gonna claim you're a boy? C'mon, how about starring in one of our videos? We've got industry connections, y'know.”

Still grinning, he reached for Ii-chan's wrist next.

…Haa.

Guess I have no choice.

“Oh ho? Here comes the knight to protect his princess?”

The youngest brother spoke mockingly. “Ooh, scary, don't hit meee~” he said, shielding his head in jest. The two women burst into loud laughter.

I wasn't going to hit him. He's apparently a bit of a celeb, so I just wanted to shake his hand.

I casually extended my right hand.

He brushed it aside.

Parrying.

It's one of the most fundamental moves in striking martial arts.

In street fights, a lot of amateurs try to dodge with big movements, but that just creates openings or gets them off balance. The proper way is to deflect, to redirect. That was a solid, practiced move—clearly the movement of a pro fighter.

But parrying means your hand makes contact with mine.

And that's all I needed.

“Gugh?!”

I grabbed his wrist.

Instinctively, he tried to pull away.

In sync with that reflex, I channeled energy into him.

Aiki.

“Ugh—whoa, heavy?!”

His knees hit the ground.

Of course it's heavy.

It's like having both our body weights pressing down on his shoulders.

Normally, this would be enough to finish things—but…

Not for you.

Scaring Ii-chan and exposing her secret—those crimes are heavy.

“Gah!”

I sent another burst of energy into him.

He fell forward, unable to break his fall, and slammed his chin hard against the concrete.

Not done yet.

“Gaf! Guhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!”

He let out a mangled animal-like growl as drool splattered down. His jaw crushed against the floor, his front teeth scraping the concrete. His wrist bent grotesquely in a direction it shouldn't.

Just a little more “ki,” and he'd be out of the ring for a while—maybe two weeks of left-handed living.

And with that, I let go.

“Guah…”

The youngest Kiyohara brother lay crumpled on the ground, panting. Sweat pooled beneath him, spreading slowly across the floor.

That should keep him quiet for today and tomorrow at least.

“Let's go, Ii-chan.”

“Y-Yeah!”

I took Ii-chan's hand (just normally this time), and we walked away.

The two gravure girls, who had been standing frozen, quickly stepped aside. Neither made a move to help him. “Accessories” don't do things like that. So much for attracting people—what matters is what's inside.

A voice rose from the ground.

“Y-You're gonna regret this… I'm telling my brother…”

……

Why is it that these types always say the same thing? “You'll regret this.” Do they think we have terrible memory or something?

—Well, maybe they're right.

Lately, my memory's been pretty bad.

I decided not to waste my brain's storage on this.

I forgot it in a second.