Tokyo, Hakuraku International Hotel.
This wasn't the kind of place meant for the general public looking for affordable value. With its four-star rating, everything here came with a price tag that was anything but cheap.
And yet, none of that was enough to stop a father who, from the bottom of his heart, felt proud of his son, from booking out this place to host a celebration banquet in his honor.
Everything went smoothly. One phone call to the hotel, and a private hall was reserved almost immediately.
A dozen or so waiters and chefs moved busily inside, making preparations. By the time the guests began to arrive, the room was nearly ready.
Following the generous instructions of Senya's father, the banquet was laid out in style. The spread featured an array of Japanese, Western, and New Chinese cuisines, covering every taste.
At the very center stood a champagne tower, glimmering beneath the crystal chandelier.
In short, cost wasn't a concern. Tonight, his father's only thought was that his son would stand tall as the host, face glowing with pride.
He had already braced himself for the financial "blood loss" of the evening.
A four-star hotel. An entire private venue with a garden. Hall rental fees, waitstaff, drinks, food…
It would all add up to at least three million yen, if not more.
But fortune smiled on him. An unexpected sponsor stepped in to cover the entire cost.
And it wasn't Senya's friends, nor their parents.
If it had been them, Minamoto's father would have flatly refused.
No—the ones who offered to foot the bill were the top administrators of Kawaranami Middle School.
When they learned that their very own students, mere middle schoolers, had stormed through a competition filled with high school elites to seize the championship—winning both the boys' and girls' titles—the principal and chairman nearly leapt out of their seats.
Compared to the excitement they'd shown when the kendo club had won in Osaka, this was on an entirely different level.
They arrived at the banquet uninvited, bringing along the head of discipline as well as Senya and Saeko Busujima's homeroom teachers.
And then came the flood of praise for the club members.
Especially for the two who had carried the team: Busujima Saeko, and Minamoto Senya.
"Young geniuses! Dragons among men! Proof of fine upbringing!"
The string of overly sweet compliments flowed nonstop, delivered with smiles so wide that their wrinkles deepened with every word.
Senya and Saeko sat through it in silence, feeling more awkward with each line. The more the administrators gushed, the less they knew how to respond.
But it wasn't without reward. After announcing that the school would cover the entire banquet bill, the chairman—who oversaw the finances—shook both Senya and Saeko's hands warmly.
He spoke kindly, praising their hard work, their sweat and effort, and the unprecedented honor they had brought to the school.
And then, with deliberate drama, he declared:
"One million yen in prize money! Split evenly—five hundred thousand each!"
Senya noted the pause in the middle of his words. The man certainly understood the art of delivery.
The other competitors, and even the teachers who had accompanied them, would also receive cash rewards. But nothing close to what Senya and Saeko had earned.
The chairman wasn't naïve. The moment the news broke, he had rewatched the match footage online.
He knew full well that the pair's overwhelming performance would make them the darlings of the media.
And so, he had chosen generosity. If the students accepted the reward, naturally they'd be grateful to the school. Mentioning the school's name here and there would boost its reputation, drawing in more applicants in the future.
A million yen was nothing compared to that.
Of course, the actual payout wouldn't happen right away.
No, the school would make sure the money was handed over in front of cameras, a public display of their "generosity."
Senya understood all this perfectly well. But he didn't mind.
Mutual benefit was mutual benefit. If all he had to do was throw in a few kind words about the school, that was easy enough.
And tonight, it wasn't just school officials who had shown up uninvited.
There was another group: representatives from Nishiyamado Corporation.
They were the direct reason Senya had entered the tournament to begin with.
Upon learning that both Saeko—already a confirmed candidate—and Senya, who had been under observation, had seized the championship together, they rushed over, contracts in hand.
As previously discussed, they proposed a partnership.
Senya and Saeko would act as brand ambassadors for Nishiyamado's kendo equipment, lending their images to advertisements and promotions.
In return, Nishiyamado would pay them accordingly.
The representatives first tried to pull Senya, Saeko, and their families aside, talking quickly, trying to persuade them to sign.
But before long, three elegant women noticed what was happening.
Led by a certain newly famous pianist, followed by a diplomat's wife, and finally the wife of a political family's heir who was now a local councilor—three women of striking beauty converged upon them.
It was rare enough to see even one such woman in daily life. Together, their combined presence radiated such overwhelming charm that it made the businessmen break into cold sweats.
Tōma Yōko lifted the contract, brows arching in disbelief.
"A three-year contract for only twenty million yen?
Are you seriously undervaluing a pair of national champions? This isn't a children's playground match—we're talking about the Tamaryū Flag, a competition that's never seen a forty-seven-straight-win streak until now. Do you have any idea how much media attention that generates?"
Beside her, Mrs. Yukinoshita scanned the clauses, voice cool and sharp.
"And this here—'Party B must cooperate with Party A in promotional activities, including but not limited to advertisements, posters, offline events, and collaborations with Party A's sub-brands.'
What exactly are you offering—an ambassador contract, or cheap child labor?"
Finally, Mrs. Sawamura delivered the finishing blow, still smiling sweetly.
"My husband dabbles in kendo. From what I've heard, Nishiyamado isn't the only notable equipment maker in Japan. There's Ken no Michi, Daibushū, Kagami-dō…
If these two champions reached out to them instead, do you really think they'd turn the offer down?"
Senya had already been unimpressed with the contract's lowball offer and lopsided terms.
With the mothers of his friends stepping in so fiercely, all he could do was sit back and watch the spectacle.
"Three heroes against Lü Bu," the phrase came to mind—but honestly, Nishiyamado's negotiators weren't even close to Lü Bu's level.
And the three wives? None of them were women who could be outmaneuvered. Their charm came with keen instincts and no small amount of political or social savvy.
Together, they were unstoppable.
Under the mounting pressure, the Nishiyamado rep broke into a sweat, finally forced to call the vice president for approval.
Though scolded half to death over the phone, the vice president ultimately gave in—especially after seeing Tamaryū Flag champions trending across every platform online.
A revised contract was faxed over.
This time, the unfair obligations were removed. The term was reduced from three years to two.
And most importantly, the ambassador fee was raised from twenty million to fifty million yen.
Two and a half times more.
It was the first time in Senya's life he had earned such a staggering sum through his own ability.
Yes—their help was invaluable. These wives truly knew how to get things done.
Once the contract was signed, Nishiyamado's PR team wasted no time. Cameras were set up, and they filmed quick promotional videos of Senya and Saeko.
The three wives drifted away, joining Senya's parents for drinks.
Meanwhile, his sisters reacted in very different ways.
Tōka was dazed, unable to process how her little brother had just earned fifty million yen in a single stroke. Yukino took her to the garden to calm down.
Rikka, face flushed red, hurried to her friends, unable to contain her excitement.
"Senya just signed for fifty million!" she practically shouted like she'd won the lottery.
Eiri's eyes widened in shock. Yukinoshita Yukino and Kasumigaoka Utaha, however, were much calmer.
They'd already expected that Senya's heroics would draw attention and money.
Even so, their hearts carried the faintest tinge of bitterness.
Across the hall, Senya and Saeko were seated close together for the cameras, smiling, speaking naturally—looking every bit like a couple.
The girls who had come here with expectations—hoping to congratulate him in person, perhaps even share a more intimate moment—had been left on the sidelines all night.
From the moment he entered, Senya had been pulled in every direction, with no chance to even greet them properly.
They could only watch, unable to speak with him, their disappointment heavy.
Even Tōma Kazusa felt the sting. She had prepared heartfelt words, but seeing Senya surrounded, laughing with Saeko so naturally, her frustration boiled over. Without so much as a goodbye, she left the banquet early.
Later, in a quieter corner, Yukinoshita Yukino found herself joined by Kasumigaoka Utaha.
At first Yukino was surprised. They weren't on good terms, not really. Rivals more than friends.
But Utaha began speaking, voice tinged with melancholy.
"I thought I'd be happy for him. But now? I almost wish he hadn't won."
She admitted it plainly. That Senya, shining so brightly, left her wishing for things to stay unchanged.
For a while, the two traded words—half confessions, half barbs. Their rivalry burned anew, yet there was a strange comfort in it too.
By the time Utaha rose to leave, her spirit felt lighter.
"Strange," she laughed. "Why did I end up saying so much to you?"
Watching her go, Yukino's expression softened ever so slightly.
Sometimes, even rivals could give each other strength.
At last, near the end of the night, Senya finally had a few moments to speak with his friends. By the time he returned home, it was nearly dawn.
The championship, the contract, the money—it was thrilling, yes, but he couldn't afford to get complacent.
Because in just a few days, another competition awaited.
Not in kendo this time, but in music.
He packed a few clothes. Outside, Yōko was waiting with a taxi.
To prepare for the upcoming piano competition, he would be staying at the Tōma household for closed practice.
After reassuring his family—especially asking his mother to take care of herself—Senya left.
As the taxi pulled away, his mother whispered her worry.
"Dear… do you think Senya can handle all this? Tournament after tournament… Will his body hold up?"
Her husband smiled faintly.
"Don't worry. He promised he wouldn't push himself too far. Besides… perhaps our son is even stronger than we realize."
That night, Yōko, in rare high spirits, sipped a little wine.
When they arrived at the Tōma home, she noticed her daughter's shoes left haphazardly at the entryway.
That alone told her Kazusa was in no good mood.
"She should be in the music room now. Go see her."
Handing Senya a small bag of puddings, Yōko's smile turned knowing.
And with that, Senya stepped inside.