Tokyo Exorcism Diary

It was hard to say if venting her frustration to a friend truly helped, but after recounting her morning ordeal, Shimizu Yuu found herself feeling a bit deflated.

Slumping over her desk, she lazily asked her best friend, “So… what’s your big revenge plan?”

Suzuki Sawami’s lips curled into a sly grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “You weren’t at the club yesterday, so you missed it—he joined the kendo club.”

“Every new recruit has to spar with a senior as part of their skills evaluation,” Same continued, her tone brimming with glee, “And who better to take that role than you—our middle school national kendo competition runner-up?”

Shimizu Yuu’s imagination ran wild as she pictured the scene her friend described: wielding a bamboo sword and knocking some sense into the jerk who had used her as a human shield. Her expression subtly shifted to one of anticipation. In no time, her usual disinterest in schoolwork was overtaken by daydreams of sweet payback, and she managed to idly drift through the entire day.

Before she knew it, the melodious chime of the school bell signaled the end of classes.

Shimizu Yuu instinctively glanced over to Hoshino Gen’s seat, only to see that he had already packed his bag and was heading for the door.

She turned her gaze to Suzuki Sawami, who was already looking back at her. The two exchanged a knowing smile, their plan unspoken but perfectly understood.

Segawa Private Academy was one of the top-ranked schools in Tokyo’s Kōtō district, renowned for its academic rigor and high tuition fees. Admission wasn’t just about good grades; a family’s ability to shoulder the hefty cost was equally crucial.

With such backing, the school spared no expense in providing students with top-tier resources—not only in faculty but also in state-of-the-art facilities for activities.

The sprawling kendo dojo, nearly a thousand square meters in size, boasted gleaming hardwood floors polished so thoroughly that skirt-wearing students hesitated to step inside.

But it wasn’t just the dojo’s grandeur that impressed. The club members’ gear was clearly high-end—new, spotless, and emitting a faint lavender scent rather than the usual unpleasant odors. This wasn’t because the members were all exceptionally neat but thanks to the custodial staff who cleaned the dojo and laundered equipment after each practice.

Such attention to detail attracted many students who were curious about kendo but hesitant to use communal equipment, making Segawa’s kendo club one of the largest, with over a hundred members.

Today, however, the dojo buzzed with more excitement than usual. At the center of the polished floor, within the white-lined sparring area, an evaluation match was underway.

Matches weren’t uncommon, but the participants this time had drawn quite a crowd.

On one side was Shimizu Yuu, a kendo prodigy who had earned team bronze and individual silver at the national middle school championships. On the other side was Hoshino Gen—handsome to a fault and, as some whispered, the brother of a popular idol.

The bout, however, was far from evenly matched.

On the sparring floor, Hoshino Gen, clad in a crisp white kendo uniform and blue protective gear, struggled to fend off Shimizu Yuu’s relentless attacks. His hands gripped the bamboo sword tightly as he blocked her strikes, retreating step by step until he was perilously close to the edge of the ring.

Then, Shimizu Yuu abruptly shifted tactics. Her swift thrust forced Hoshino Gen to sidestep, but midway through the motion, her lips curled into a smirk. With a sudden upward swing, her bamboo sword arced downward in a powerful diagonal slash.

“Men!”

The bamboo sword whistled through the air, hurtling toward Hoshino Gen’s helmet. Even with protective gear, the blow looked like it might pack a painful punch.

For a brief moment, Shimizu Yuu thought she caught a flicker of resignation in Hoshino Gen’s mismatched eyes. Up close, his delicate features and long lashes struck her as annoyingly flawless—why did he have to look this good?

At the last moment, Shimizu Yuu halted her swing, though her momentum carried the sword forward to lightly tap the top of Gen’s head.

A soft “thud” echoed through the dojo, followed by the referee’s declaration.

“Men, valid!”

The room fell silent for a beat before erupting into cheers and chatter.

“Wow! That’s our national runner-up for you!”

“Can’t even beat a girl? How lame~”

“Hey, do you think if I go comfort Hoshino Gen now, I can get closer to him and snag Rin-chan’s contact info? Hehehe…”

The voices swirled around them, but neither Shimizu Yuu nor Hoshino Gen paid them any mind.

Shimizu Yuu crossed her arms, her expression a mix of pride and sass. “You lost.”

Hoshino Gen smiled faintly and nodded in acknowledgment.

“And… apologize.” Her tone turned stern, her gaze sharp.

Hoshino Gen paused for a moment, then chuckled softly. “Didn’t I already give you the book you wanted as a peace offering? …Fine. Sorry.”

Noticing his voice for the first time, perhaps due to her earlier anger clouding her focus, Shimizu Yuu suddenly realized how pleasing it was. Clear, almost ethereal—it resonated beautifully.

Pair that with his face, those eyes… Tch. What a waste to give such attributes to a guy. Ugh, infuriating!

“Ugh… fine, I forgive you, but only because of the book,” Shimizu Yu huffed, averting her gaze. She couldn’t stand to keep looking at that unfairly perfect face.

“Hey, Yuu, what was that about? Why’d you stop at the last second?”

During the free practice session after the match, Suzuki Sawami made her way to the corner where Shimizu Yuu was practicing swings alone. Her curiosity was practically bursting.

Shimizu Yuu paused, took a few breaths to steady herself, and glanced through the crowd. Her eyes landed on the far corner where Hoshino Gen clumsily swung his sword with one hand. She hesitated before quietly answering, “It might’ve been my imagination, but… I got the feeling that final opening he gave me was deliberate.”

“Huh?” Suzuki Sawami looked thoroughly puzzled. She had watched the entire match—Hoshino Gen had been completely outclassed from start to finish. Deliberately creating an opening? If it wasn’t Yuu imagining things, then the only other explanation was that the guy had given up, knowing he couldn’t win.

Suzuki Sawami decided not to dwell on it. With her best friend’s “revenge” settled, her interest in Hoshino Gen had dwindled. Soon enough, the topic shifted to the usual chatter between high school girls.

“Oh, by the way, Yuu! Wanna hit Shinjuku this weekend? I heard there’s this amazing store…”