Ch.32Taking Off Your Glasses Doesn’t Exactly Make You a Hottie (7)

“Hey, I bought cola. It was a buy one get one free deal at the convenience store nearby.”

“Woohoo! You’re finally learning something useful.”

“Thanks, Hamin. Come on, sit down. Let’s have some together.”

“N-no, it’s okay. I already had dinner at school.”

Hamin had bought cola from the convenience store just two minutes away from the dojo.

I placed the cola on the table and grabbed the kid who was trying to quietly slip away, making him sit down in a chair.

“Enough of that, sit down. What is this, Sweden? If you bought cola, you have to share the responsibility.”

“I really don’t need to…”

“Come on, you need to eat at least enough to replace the nosebleed you had looking at my boobs. How else will you make it through evening study hall?”

“That’s right, Hamin. It’s hard for Doyoung and me to finish all this anyway. Even if it’s just a bite or two, please eat before you go.”

“Okay… Then I’ll gratefully accept.”

Though it wasn’t my intention at all,

this became the first meal I shared with Hamin at our home.

And with my parents, no less.

“Well then, let’s dig in—”

“AHHH!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Hey, what happened?”

“…I got the nerdy glasses character from the cola promotion goods.”

“…”

That’s the last time I’m ordering Papa Katz pizza.

…

“What? You’re going to teach Hamin kendo?”

“Yeah. There are no classes in the evening, so just for a little while then.”

While having dinner together,

I told Dad about my promise to teach Hamin kendo.

“If I’m teaching him as a hobby rather than you teaching him officially, we don’t need to bother with student registration and all that, right?”

“Well, that’s true, but… are you serious about this? Not just letting him hit the training dummy once out of curiosity, but actually teaching him kendo?”

Dad seemed quite surprised by my statement about bringing Hamin into the dojo.

He was so shocked that he didn’t even notice the pizza cheese tilting and sliding off what he was holding.

I quickly grabbed the slice with all the fallen cheese.

“What’s with that reaction? Are you surprised that he wants to learn kendo? Or that I’m teaching someone?”

“Both… actually.”

“That kind of hurts my feelings. It’s too late anyway. I’ve already received the tuition fee.”

“You got paid? Wait, when did that happen?”

“You’re drinking it right now, Dad.”

“What?”

Dad looked down at the half-finished cola in his cup with a bewildered expression.

If even one sip had gone down his throat, he was already complicit in this plan.

“He’s going to bring a cola every lesson. That’s our deal.”

“Well, if you’re satisfied with that, I don’t mind. But you were the one who told me never to mention starting kendo again, so why suddenly…”

“He said he felt bad about being called weak by me. So I’m teaching him.”

Dad’s gaze shifted from me to Hamin.

“Do you really want to learn from Doyoung, Hamin?”

“I-I came here because I needed to. If you’ll allow it, Master, I’d… like to learn.”

“I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’m grateful.”

Dad wiped the sauce and oil from the pizza with a napkin,

and extended his right hand to Hamin with a smile, as if asking for a handshake.

The kid hesitated for a moment, then wiped his hands and carefully took Dad’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Hamin. For whatever reason, thanks to you, my daughter is interested in kendo again. Doyoung’s mom will be really happy to hear this.”

“N-no, I should be the one thanking you…”

“If this is your first time doing kendo, you don’t have any uniform or equipment, right? I’ll get some from the storage room.”

“Can’t you hear me, Dad? Hey, Mr. Semiconductor?”

“I think there’s a spare uniform that’s just your size. I’ll bring it right away!”

“Um, Master—”

“You two keep eating, I’ll go down by myself!”

Dad, clearly excited, left his pizza half-eaten and went down to the storage room below the dojo.

He seemed genuinely happy about me teaching Hamin.

Ban Doyoung, you brat.

I don’t know for sure, but it seems you’ve given your parents quite a hard time with kendo.

Considering how I was able to move following Doyoung’s body movements the first time I picked up a bamboo sword, she must have had considerable talent.

“We could finish eating first and it wouldn’t be too late. Dad’s really serious about kendo.”

“He’s just excited, I guess. That his daughter is starting kendo again.”

“…Hmm. Is it that big a deal?”

“Looking at the master, it seems like he really wanted you to start again. Is there a reason you quit kendo?”

“I dunno?”

“Huh?”

I don’t really know anything about Doyoung’s past settings.

Those kinds of things are usually revealed much later in the original work anyway.

The only traces of her kendo past were a uniform and bamboo sword hidden in the closet,

and quite a number of certificates and medals from kendo competitions.

Looking back, most of the awards were from elementary school.

Based on the grades listed next to the name on the certificates, I could roughly tell when Doyoung had stopped doing kendo.

Since the certificates and medals stopped abruptly after elementary school, she probably quit kendo after entering middle school.

No wonder the uniform she was wearing seemed a bit small.

“You don’t know why you quit… then why are you starting again?”

“Hmm…”

Seeing the worried look in Hamin’s eyes as he sat beside me,

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Pfft, maybe because of you?”

Yeah, it’s probably because of you.

Who else could make the main heroine, who had quit kendo, start again?

Who else could do that besides the protagonist of this world?

I don’t think there is anyone else.

“Hamin, take this. It might be a bit big, but if you tighten the waist, it should fit well enough.”

Meanwhile, Dad had brought a navy-colored uniform from the storage room for Hamin.

Thanks to the thorough cleaning of the storage room last weekend, the uniform was in good enough condition to wear right out of the packaging.

“Th-thank you. I don’t have money for the uniform right now, but next week…”

“It’s fine, no money needed. It was just sitting around anyway. I’ll give you a shopping bag to make it easier to carry.”

“Ooh, nice newbie-friendly policy. No wonder the apartment complex ladies love it here.”

“Thank you so much, Master.”

“I should be thanking you. For helping my daughter pick up the bamboo sword again.”

“Alright, if you’re done eating, let’s see if you’re worth that tuition cola? Change into the uniform and come out.”

After finishing our meal and clearing the table,

Hamin changed into the uniform Dad had given him and stood in the middle of the dojo.

“What’s that? Did you steal your mom’s skirt? Heh.”

“…”

The upper body seemed to fit reasonably well, but

since the uniform was clearly a bit larger than his actual size,

the hem was dragging slightly on the floor, covering his feet.

If he moved even a little wrong,

he might step on the hem and trip.

“Well, well… you’re still growing, right? If you keep exercising, you’ll naturally get taller. Hahaha.”

“Y-yeah, that would be nice.”

A taller Hamin, huh.

I can’t really imagine it.

“Anyway, both of you be careful. Got it? Especially you, Ban Doyoung.”

“Why are you only warning me?”

While Dad might have longed to see his child start kendo again,

perhaps he never imagined her teaching it to a friend.

Dad seemed particularly wary of Doyoung teaching someone.

“The better you are at something, the higher your expectations become when teaching others. Don’t think about swinging the bamboo sword at him just because Hamin can’t keep up with the pace.”

“Eh? That’s not allowed? I thought learning through getting hit makes you improve faster. I thought that’s how it’s taught at the dojo since Dad used to hit the back of my head with a bamboo sword.”

“Complaints would come flooding in if we taught like that, you idiot.”

Dad has a point.

Being good at a sport and being good at teaching it are definitely separate domains.

A great player doesn’t necessarily become a great coach.

“I’ve always emphasized being especially careful when teaching kids with glasses. They can get hurt more seriously if something goes wrong. Remember that.”

“I’ll take it to heart, so our dear master can just watch from the office. We’re wasting precious evening time.”

“…Fine. I’m sure you know what you’re doing. I’ll be in the office since I’d just be in the way. Let me know if anything happens.”

“Okay, Hamin. Pick up the bamboo sword. I’ll teach you kendo.”

“O-okay. I’m in your care.”

We didn’t have much time on the first day.

Between consultations and other things, we’d spent time elsewhere.

There were about 20 minutes left until evening study hall began.

It would be fine to start lessons next week, but since I’d already received the tuition fee today,

I should at least give him a taste of what’s to come.

“Follow my posture. You don’t need to follow the theory exactly, just get the general feel of it.”

Because I don’t know the theory either.

I’m just moving my body according to Doyoung’s muscle memory.

“Keep your legs roughly in a number 11 position, with the back foot slightly raised. When moving from this position, push forward with your front foot first, like this.”

“Oh, like this…?”

I faced Hamin as if we were sparring and took up the stance.

Even to my untrained eye, Hamin’s posture was terribly sloppy.

“Tsk. Something’s off.”

The angle of his feet was problematic, but there was something else that made his movement seem unstable.

It was partly due to the unfamiliar stance, but more than that,

he didn’t seem confident that he was moving forward properly.

“That bastard’s eyes.”

That’s when I noticed the broken glasses he was wearing.

The frames, barely held together with tape, were unbalanced and loose.

They might work well enough when sitting still to study,

but in full-body movements like this, the loose arms would quickly disrupt his vision.

And as he tried to adjust the unstable glasses by moving his head,

his posture wavered, and unable to see properly, his balance inevitably collapsed.

“I can’t stand this.”

“Huh…? What?”

“Hey, honor student, do you know what’s most important in kendo?”

“…What is it?”

“Not taking your eyes off your opponent.”

-SWISH!

I lightly raised my bamboo sword and knocked his glasses upward.

The glasses, hit by the bamboo sword, bumped against the ceiling with a thud, then fell to the floor in a completely unusable state,

the bridge broken beyond repair.

“W-what are you doing?! I had just fixed those so I could wear them!”

“Watch this.”

I ran straight to the office and shouted.

“Dad! I broke Hamin’s glasses during practice! I need to pay for them!”

“W-what…?”

“See? This is what happens when you take your eyes off your opponent.”

“You, you…”

“Looks like we need to go get you new glasses now?”

I’ve found an excuse to meet this weekend.