Chapter 6
Association Central Branch, Third Examination Arena.
A public C-rank promotion examination is apparently usually a very sparsely attended affair. The audience consists mostly of candidates' families and Association employees with time to kill—that was the explanation given by the clerk at reception.
"Normally, that is."
That day, the five-hundred-seat audience section filled within thirty minutes of opening. Overflowing onlookers formed a standing-room line, while reporters and streamers set up camera tripods in the front row. The Association hastily decided to broadcast the exam live on its official channel.
The focus was candidate number one—or rather, today's exam had only one candidate.
Amaha Hina. Seventeen years old. E-rank. Four straight failures of the D-rank promotion exam.
【She's here. The student from that course.】
【A rank-skipping exam is packed? This has to be a first for the Association.】
【They say her opponent is Hiruta. One of the top C-rankers.】
【Ugh, of all people.】
The mock-battle opponent was Hiruta Takeshi, an active upper-tier C-ranker hired by the Association. During a press scrum outside the waiting room, he said this to the cameras.
"I won't go easy on her. If you give an E-rank kid some strange dream, she'll eventually die in a dungeon. Breaking her here would be an act of kindness, wouldn't you say?"
It was mean-spirited, but it was also true. So no one could argue, and the four-character phrase 【Public execution】 continued racing through the livestream comments in a blur of prayers and jeers.
◇
As for me, my day was anything but peaceful.
I cooked rice, leafed through my notebooks, and prepared for the night's stream. It was day seventeen of my wholesome unemployed life. Today, however, was my first time out on assignment. Anyone who recommends a candidate is required to attend the exam.
At the edge of the reserved section. Aside from being asked twice at reception whether I was the recommender, nobody paid me any attention. Being an inconspicuous middle-aged man was remarkably convenient at times like this.
Ten minutes before the exam began, I spoke with Hina-chan briefly outside the waiting room. Her face was pale. It was only natural. She was surrounded by five hundred people and broadcast cameras in a venue larger than the one where she had failed four times.
"Teacher, I, um, my hands—"
"Yeah, they're shaking. That's fine."
"I-is that okay!?"
"You don't have to get rid of your nerves. If you try to, they'll only distract you. Let them shake and focus on just one thing. —For the first thirty seconds, don't try to win. Just observe. Your opponent is human too, and everyone has a first crack. Find it, and then your exam can begin."
"Observe, draw him out, and make the shortest move."
"That's right. Same as the usual course. It's plain. Probably shockingly plain."
Hina-chan took one deep breath and finally managed a small smile.
"—But I won't die anymore, right?"
Yeah. Well said.
◇
The moment the starting signal sounded, Hiruta moved forward.
Chief Examiner Sakuma held his scoring board and sighed inwardly. He had been doing this job for twenty years, but this was the first time a rank-skipping exam had become a spectacle. And the ending of a spectacle was usually predictable. Hiruta's three-hit combination was fast—far too fast for an E-ranker to handle. She'd be knocked down within the first ten seconds, and that would be the end.
Thirty seconds later, Sakuma lowered his scoring board and narrowed his eyes.
She hadn't been knocked down.
The girl appeared to be entirely on the defensive. That was how it must have looked from the audience. In reality, she had not attacked even once. But there had not been a single mistake in the way she retreated. Her toes pointed outward, she never landed on her heels, and her gaze never dropped. Every one of Hiruta's attacks missed by half a step, each time at the smallest possible distance.
(...Is this girl watching as she dodges?)
Hina was watching.
(On the third strike of his three-hit combination, his right shoulder drops. Then—his heel lifts before the thrust.)
It was a familiar habit. Of course it was. She had seen it in the mirror every day for four years. Her center of gravity rose at the start of her step. Her upper body moved first, and her gaze wavered. —It was the same habit she'd had a month ago.
(No one ever taught you about it in words either, did they?)
Hina took the initiative for the first time. She took half a step to the left, inviting him in. Hiruta's favored thrust came toward the opening on her right. His heel lifted. His upper body moved first. His gaze wavered.
She gripped the floor with her toes and slipped aside by half a step. Her sword, following the same path as her practice swings, struck the gauntlet of the advancing Hiruta and, on the return stroke, stopped just in front of his throat—a sheet of paper's breadth away.
The arena fell silent.
"The match is decided."
Sakuma's voice fell into the silence. Hiruta continued staring down at the sword point at his throat, motionless for a while. At last, he forced out the words.
"Was I... lured into that? Just now?"
He understood it before anyone else, even as the loser. Sakuma quickly filled in the scoring board and, as required, turned toward the livestream microphone. He had prepared formal remarks, but the first words made them all unnecessary.
"—No question. Pass."
The comment section exploded.
【Wooooooah!】
【Unscathed!? She's unscathed!?】
【She lured a top C-ranker in and scored a clean hit—what was that?】
【The course was legit...】
【I'm tuning in starting today.】
【They say she's the second person in history to jump from E-rank to C-rank.】
In the corner of the audience, I saw a petite woman crying with both hands over her mouth. She was probably Hina-chan's mother. The promise that Hina would quit if she hadn't shown promise by the time she graduated high school was no longer needed as of today.
I wrote a single short line in my notebook and rose from my seat before anyone noticed.
【Amaha Hina—C-rank. Fundamentals complete. Next assignment—the habits that follow a victory.】
◇
That night's course stream began with a viewer count of 【30,000】. I had stopped letting the numbers surprise me.
"Good evening, I'm Shin. There seem to be a lot of first-time viewers, so let me say the usual thing. This is a course for beginners. I won't be covering flashy techniques or talking about the strongest gear. It's dull. Probably shockingly dull."
【We know.】
【Which part of today was dull, exactly?】
【Is this where the victory parade is being held?】
"And today, we have a special guest. At her request, audio only. —Hina-chan, go ahead."
'...Y-yes!'
The voice from the other side of the speakers already sounded a little tearful.
'Um, thank you to everyone who watched today. And, um... Teacher.'
"Yes?"
'I failed four times, and my mother and the guild instructor both told me to quit. I knew I wasn't talented, either...'
She stumbled over her words again and again. Unusually, the comment section slowed its flow and waited.
'But you were the only one who told me there was just one reason I kept failing. I never knew that something as plain as gripping the floor with my toes in a hallway—something so plain—could lead to a view like this...! It's all thanks to you, Teacher. Thank you. Thank you so much...!'
I could sense her bowing on the other side of the screen. The microphone made a soft rustling sound as it rubbed against fabric. She was such a dutiful girl.
"Yes. ...But, Hina-chan, there's one thing I need to correct."
I said it in my usual tone.
"All I taught you was how to grip the floor with your toes in a hallway. You were the one who did it a thousand times. You were the one who found Hiruta-san's bad habit today, lured him in, and brought your sword to a stop at the end. You were the one who put in the effort. —I'll accept only half of that 'thanks to Teacher.' That's about the right amount for a coach."
'...Teacherrr...'
【That's such a good story...】
【This teacher-and-student pair is unfair.】
【I'm not the only one crying, right?】
【Look at the subscriber count. It's 101,847 now. It broke 100,000 overnight.】
—It was then.
Amid the torrent of comments, a single gold-framed message surfaced.
Super Chat—the maximum amount that could be sent on this streaming site. It was the first time I had seen that color since the course began. The attached message contained only a single word.
【Congratulations.】
I counted the digits twice, then tried to read the sender's name aloud—and stopped.
"...Thank you. But, uh... isn't this a bit much?"
The sender's name was a single letter.
【R】
The comment section filled with 【Who!?】. I didn't know who it was either. And yet, for some reason, staring at that single letter gave me a strange feeling—somewhere between nostalgia and unease.
—The sender was, at that very moment, aboard a flight crossing nine thousand kilometers of sky toward Narita.
We had no idea.