Step. Step.
A dungeon used for training…
Isshin, after leaving Choten, aimlessly wandered throughout the long mountain range.
“Grrr…”
“Bark, bark! Grr!”
Wild dogs the size of bears sward him, lured by his scent.
Dash!
They made their move and pounced on him. Isshin placed his hand on his scabbard.
“Growl!”
Chomp!
The dog’s teeth bit the boy square on the arm… Except that wasn’t his actual body.
Fshh!
His form scattered as an afterimage. The giant dogs scanned the area, drool dripping out of their mouths.
Only then did his body beco visible.
Slash!
All of the monsters were cut clean in half. Blood sprayed everywhere. Isshin stared at their corpses with a cold gaze before flicking the blood off his blade.
“…Tch.”
He clicked his tongue and sat on a nearby boulder.
Isshin couldn’t focus on his training. It felt odd.
‘This is all because of Hanajima. That stupid girl…’
He thought back to his middle school years.
Sumire had been her quiet, introverted self for as long as he’d known her. She was the sort of person who would grin like an idiot even as the people around her used her. The only impression he had of her back then was nothing more than an ‘annoying woman’.
Perhaps that was the reason why he had been so pissed off when they had been paired off by coincidence for a test. Middle-school Isshin treated her even more coldly than he had before.
[…Just why did it have to be you, of all people?]
[I’m screwed… I hate idiotic, frustrating won like you.]
But the one who made a mistake during the actual test had been Isshin. He had stepped on a trap that shot an arrow towards him from his side. Thankfully, it had only grazed his forearm.
Plip. Plop.
Blood had begun to flow from the wound.
Isshin may have been in middle school back then, but he had been living his entire life for the sake of becoming a hunter. He wasn’t the sort of person who was sensitive enough to be thrown off by the sight of blood.
In fact, Sumire was the one who made a big deal about the wound.
[K-Kirishima-ssi! Th-there’s blood!]
#TL/N: it says -ssi in the korean but since she's in japan she should technically be using japanese honorifics.
[…A wound of this caliber is nothing.]
[Th-that’s no good!]
It was the first ti Isshin had seen her angry. She had endured every insult he had thrown at her without complaint, yet the first ti she had blown up was because he had been hurt.
Dumbfounded, Isshin let out a snort, amused.
[Okay, then. What are you gonna do about it? Do you wanna give up on the test just for a cut of this size?]
[No! I-I’ll treat it! I brought a first-aid kit and everything!]
Right then and there, Sumire sat down and gave him first aid. She cleaned up all of the blood flowing out of the wound and disinfected it with a cotton ball soaked with alcohol. And in order to stop the bleeding, she placed a piece of gauze with ointnt on the wound and wrapped it tightly on with compression bandages.
Only after finishing the entire process did Sumire’s serious expression clear up. Her usual smile returned back to her face.
[All done!]
Isshin thought she was an idiot. Why would she worry about soone who had insulted her and called her an idiot to the point where she got angry in order to give him proper treatnt?
He couldn’t understand Sumire, no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t want to.
[…You really are a weirdo, aren’t you?]
And that’s how the test ended.
Isshin and Sumire were in different classes, so they didn’t have many opportunities to interact with each other. Still, she bothered him.
Why did looking at the blooming violets in their schoolyard make her smile so happily?
Why did she dazedly stare outside the window for long periods of ti on rainy days?
Why did she constantly let herself be used like an idiot by others who foisted work they didn't want to do off of her?
Watching Sumire made Isshin angry. He felt frustrated. He felt like an idiot. His emotions towards her flipped on a di, though he himself didn’t know why.
[Hanajima. Join my party.]
[…I’ll let you borrow my hair whenever you take a test.]
[No one in this school will be able to carelessly bother you. Whoever sses with you, sses with .]
Sumire, stunned, could do nothing but nod at his proposal.
She knew the boy hated her, so she had no idea why he had invited her to his party. The only reason she had accepted was because she didn’t have another party to join.
With Isshin’s help, Sumire grew stronger, bit by bit.
‘…And you run off to Korea without even a single word to , Hanajima?’
He gritted his teeth.
While attending Choten, he had managed to gain the strongest party mbers—Seiji and Sakura. He still felt angry, however.
To Isshin, the reason as to why was obvious: it was because soone like Sumire had betrayed him.
As his thoughts reached this conclusion, YuSung’s face suddenly appeared in his head.
‘…Korea’s Shin YuSung.’
It just so happened that Korea was slated to be Japan’s first opponent during the International Competition. Isshin made a face and sheathed his sword.
* * *
* * *
* * * *
Kunigami district on Okinawa island…
Sumire glanced towards YuSung as the two of them arrived at her house.
“Th-the portal…! So useful! We ca here really fast, didn’t we?”
It was a regular, two-story house one could find anywhere, even if it looked a little worn down. Sumire sucked in a breath right in front of the door.
“A-alright!”
In a sudden burst of courage, she pressed the doorbell.
Ding-dong.
The bell rang throughout the house. Not too long after, the window on the second floor opened up.
“来た (She’s here)!”
”お姉ちゃんだ (It’s onee-chan!)
#TL/N: “big sis” in japanese.
Sumire’s younger siblings greeted her in Japanese. She waved back, a bright grin on her face—quite different from her usual expressions.
The front door slowly opened, and a woman stepped out of the house. With a smile on her face, she waved as well.
Sumire turned her attention towards her, and, with a bright grin on her face, ran towards the woman.
“Mom–!”
She was Hanajima Suika, Sumire’s mother.
“Fufu. Welco ho.”
The two held hands and stared into one another’s eyes. To YuSung, it felt like a warm energy was radiating off them.
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