The sword rack had seven tiers.
The lower tiers overflowed with variety.
The topmost seventh tier held just one bokken.
"The top one's the best quality," Sakura said softly, standing behind Satoru. "Tournament swords are standardized, but for training, we seek the one that feels right."
"Ohohoho," the shopkeeper granny chuckled, her old-lady laugh echoing. "Exactly! Your sister's an expert, kid. Listen to her. I recall Sakura bought one like that before. This one's new stock—if you don't grab it, it'll be months before we get another."
"Can I see it?" Satoru asked.
"Ohohoho, of course!" The granny stood, reaching for a pole to fetch it.
"No need."
Satoru tiptoed, easily plucking the bokken down.
The granny blinked. "Not bad for a boy! Sakura, your brother's tall."
"…Mm."
Sakura nodded sweetly, gazing up at Satoru, her eyes sparkling as if she were really looking at a little brother.
Kobayashi-kun's so tall, she thought, heart fluttering.
Satoru gripped the handle.
Though wooden, it felt sturdy, perfectly balanced.
He swung it lightly—smooth, effortless.
Back at the kendo club, Kato's tossed bokken felt off compared to Sakura's. He'd thought it was his imagination. Now, the difference was clear.
This one matched Sakura's bokken vibe.
High-end, classy, top-tier.
"Ko…"
Sakura started to ask, "Kobayashi-kun, what do you think?" but hesitated. Her lips twitched, then she said, "Little brother, does this sword suit you?"
"Yeah, it's good," Satoru nodded.
Hearing him accept her "little brother" call, Sakura's face flushed crimson. Her knees rubbed together, calves trembling slightly.
So… so good. Why's this thrill so unexpected?
"Then let's get this one, little brother," Sakura said, leaning her slender neck to inspect the bokken.
As she spoke, her sweet, fragrant breath hit Satoru's face.
He turned away, unnerved. So sweet. How does talking smell that good?
…What toothpaste was she using?
Forcing himself not to look at Sakura or linger on her scent, Satoru lifted the sword, ready to say, "This one. Let's pay."
Then he saw it—the price tag.
He counted the digits. One, two, three, four, five… Fifty thousand yen.
What the—?! Is the blade gold or the handle diamond? Rob me blind and toss in a free bokken, huh?
"Ahem…" Satoru coughed, casually moving to return it. "Hey, nee-san, that one looks good too…"
He eyed the bottom tier—cheaper options.
As a regular guy, he'd stick to budget buys. Hobbies shouldn't outstrip your class.
Sakura pursed her lips, holding out her hand. "Can I see that sword, little brother?"
"…Sure."
Satoru sighed. Rich people. Already got a favorite, now chasing a new fling.
Sakura seemed keen on this pricey bokken too.
As expected, she took it and marched to the counter.
Sakura bowed to the granny. "I'll take this one."
The granny beamed. "Thank you, dear! Fifty thousand yen… but for Sakura, I'll knock it down to forty-five. Cash or card?"
"Card." Sakura pulled a bank card from her crossbody bag, swiping it smoothly.
So nice, Satoru thought, envious. Unlike these rich folks, he'd been scraping by since arriving in this world.
He crouched, eyeing the bottom-tier swords—three thousand yen, two thousand yen. These fit my vibe… Pick one that's decent.
"Little brother, let's go," Sakura called.
"Huh?" Satoru looked up. "I haven't picked yet."
"You're done." Sakura waved the wrapped bokken. "We're getting this one."
Satoru: ?!
"Ohohoho," the granny laughed, covering her mouth. "Don't be shy with your sister, kid!"
"Mm, mm!" Sakura gripped the bokken, nodding vigorously, her breaths heavy, nostrils flaring with excitement.
Satoru: …
Why do I feel like I stepped into a trap?
…
Outside Kendo Kari, Sakura shoved the bokken into Satoru's arms.
"Here, Ko… Kobayashi-kun."
She almost said "little brother" but caught herself—outside the shop, it felt out of place.
"…Miyajima-senpai, what's this?" Satoru asked.
Was it his imagination, or did she look… disappointed when he said "senpai"? Her lips even pouted slightly.
After tasting "nee-san," "senpai" felt bland to Sakura.
But she hid it, straightening up, hands clasped politely at her waist, smiling gracefully. "I think this sword suits you, Kobayashi-kun. And I think it'd agree you're the right wielder."
No, Satoru thought. I don't think I'm worthy—because I'm broke.
"Also," Sakura said, her purple eyes lowering, "I don't want someone like you using a low-quality bokken. It doesn't match your status."
"Status?" Satoru blinked. What status? Did she figure out I'm the heir to socialism or something?
"A hero."
Sakura's voice was earnest. "When you took down those delinquents, you became a hero in my eyes. A hero deserves a great sword."
"Anata"… She used respectful language, seeing Kobayashi-kun as a revered senior.
But then, his earlier "nee-san" echoed in her mind…
Her cheeks bloomed pink. Just one more time… Call me that again!
One more, and I'll buy you anything!
…
…