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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 6 - Genuine (Part 2)

My brain as I was translating this: what is bro yapping about

also please don't ask me to clarify anything that happened in this chapter, i also have no idea. i'm pretty sure only the author knows 😂all i know is that they were definitely doing kyudo.

TW: suicide mention

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

A saijiki is an almanac of Japanese seasonal terms used for poetry

Asahina's name (朝日奈) contains the characters for morning sun

Adults (成人) and saints (聖人) have the same reading (seijin)

A box-like structure where rain shutters are stored when not in use

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Masa-san, there’s something I want to tell you.

Don’t laugh and just listen to me.

The competitors from both schools met face to face at the prefectural finals. The sky began preparations to show off its triumphant end.

Asahina and Minato faced each other.

“Looks like ‘Minahead’ worked. Thanks.”

“Please don’t make surprise attacks like you did the other day.”

“Hahaha, sorry. The protection around you was strong, so that was the best I could do.”

Eddie pushed up his hair. “We have no need for superstition anymore.”

“That’s right, partner.”

Asahina and Eddie bumped elbows. They were like children who played a secret prank on their parents.

Haneina’s coach, Tsucchi, and Masa-san faced off.

“My archers are in top form. We’re going to win.”

“I don’t know about that. Kazemai can use the wind, after all.”

“I don’t want any funny tricks. Show us what you can do.”

“Go easy on us.”

The archers from both schools entered the shajo with orange and yellow-green headbands tied around their heads.

Haneina High School had Eddie, Matsuda, Kanuma, Igarashi, and Asahina.

Kazemai High School had Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, and Minato.

They each stepped onto the shooting line and spread their legs.

The oomae of Haneina was Eddie. His golden hair fluttered in the sun. Spreading his white wings, the archangel descended upon the land of the east. The eccentric was an assumed figure, and the truth was revealed.

He objected to the strange land of Japan, where everyone wore matching outfits to find jobs. Who told them to wear black? Was it because it wouldn’t stand out even if they settled down in a graveyard? Those who prepared loyalty tests for the company would have been promoted and given a nice apartment. Ceasing to think for yourself was what politicians wanted you to do. Misguided servility made the conceited even more fattened. If you were going to dance the same dance, then dance in your own colors.

The arrow was aimed at the demon’s heart. But Eddie and Kaito hit the center.

Next was Matsuda on the second target. One day, a house party was held. The servants, who were usually unsmiling, broke out into big smiles as soon as the host appeared in the room. Before he knew it, everyone in the room had smiles pasted onto their faces. “Supporting the disabled is my purpose in life. We are very concerned about you. With this product, you can reduce your anxiety about your future,” they whispered, but the bow made no distinction between the disabled and the able-bodied. The love that asked for nothing in return was always there.

The released arrow shattered the window glass. Ryouhei followed as well.

Kanuma on the third target opened his haiku saijiki. (1) Beautiful phrases that reflected Japan’s weather, astronomy, geography, and human affairs were lined up side by side. The finely honed senses of their ancestors that resided in each phrase hadn’t faded away even now.

Words were twisted, woven, knitted, and tied together. Weaving brocade was the living wisdom and culture of creatures without fur. The clothes we wore revealed our environment and thoughts. Those who could manipulate words and know the hidden power of words could transcend the concept of time and fly to the moment at any time. Right now, Kanuma has composed a song.

Kanuma and Seiya summoned tsurune.

Brain, be deceived. Make a miracle happen.

Taking the sound of the matooto as a signal, Igarashi raised his bow. Anyone could step into his flower garden. Flowers such as bellflowers, gentians, and campanulas were preferred, and the bells rang when the wind blew. Bees and butterflies frolicked amidst the flowers, grass lizards and rainbow-colored lizards lay in the grass, and red-flanked blue tails rested on the branches. He picked the withered flowers and thinned out overcrowded foliage. A garden that took time to grow was a treasure. Igarashi applied that image to his own bow. He slept every night holding his bow, of which only one existed in this world.

As Igarashi and Nanao’s arrows flew, flowers bloomed along the path.

In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo gasped. Since there were a lot of hits in quick succession, they braced themselves so they wouldn’t miss the chance to cheer.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful.”

“Both schools are sparkling.”

“This is exactly what ‘brilliance’ is.”

The ochi Asahina, as his name suggested, was the embodiment of the sun. (2) His red hair burned in the twilight.

Fire.

Fire knew what you had done.

It also knew the name and face of your accomplice.

If you wanted to purify yourself, go to the sea. If you wanted power, go to the mountains. Whichever path you chose, he would be a torchbearer and a guide. Heaven watched the deeds of those who lived on earth. Three children were born out of the fire. At any given time, there existed something that recorded the events on earth. Memories that were passed down became stories.

Asahina and Minato released their arrows.

For the second shot, nobody missed.

For the third short, the sound of the matooto didn’t cease.

The wind blew through the kyudojo, where conversation and even breathing were taboo.

Where was the wind going? Who was it bringing with it?

A memory of a day he spent with Masa-san flashed through Minato’s mind.

Yata Forest, where the crescent moon hang in the deep blue sky. The sound of rustling leaves sounded like the trees were welcoming them as the two walked along the white path illuminated by moonlight.

“Masa-san, there’s something I want to tell you. I had a strange experience a long time ago. I haven’t even told Seiya and Ryouhei about it. They’ll probably think I’m crazy or just laugh at me and say I was dreaming. Will you listen to me?”

“I will.”

“You won’t laugh?”

“I won’t.”

Minato took a deep breath.

“I was a bit out of it that day, and when people told me that it was Setsubun today, I was like, ‘Huh?’ It seemed like I got the date wrong by a day, and I had no memory of the day before Setsubun.”

“Hmm.”

“After scattering the beans, I slept like usual, and the next thing I knew, I was paralyzed. My arms and legs were numb, and I couldn’t move my body at all. While I was panicking, I heard three sounds. It kind of sounded like something used in an old sci-fi movie. Then, all of a sudden, a beam of light hit me from right above my head to my feet with a ker-wham. Just as I was thinking Oh crap, what do I do, I heard the three sounds again, and then I was hit on the top of my head with a wham. I still couldn’t move my body, so I was thinking about reciting the Heart Sutra when my dad woke me up. Apparently I was crying out in my sleep.”

Masa-san’s eyes widened. He burst into laughter.

“So you laughed at me after all. I’m a chuunibyou even in my dreams.”

“No, I was laughing at the onomatopoeia. I wasn’t laughing at what you said.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“I had a similar experience. I never told anyone about it, so it’s a secret.”

Masa-san began speaking.

I’ve told you before that when I was in my third year of high school, I got target panic and my master gave up on me. I’ve also told you that in my first year in university, my father sent me a notification of my brother’s death, but actually, when I was nineteen, I got into an argument with my master. I declared that I will never forgive the person who made my brother disappear and that I will take revenge, but my master just lectured me in the usual way, saying that revenge was a foolish thing and that my anger will burn me to death. I asked him why he had been ignoring it until now, and why is it that you, my own family, didn’t understand me. I showered my master with the hateful words that should have been directed towards my father. That ended up being our final conversation.

When I was twenty, in my second year of university, my master passed away. I overcame my target panic and received invitations from several kyudo schools to join them, but I had lost sight of the significance of drawing the bow. I kept asking myself why I was drawing a bow—and then I realized it. No, I finally admitted it. I wanted to be acknowledged as an archer by my “master Yasaka,” no one else. And that will never come true.

In the spring of my third year, I completed shooting a hundred arrows, but all I felt was a sense of emptiness. My father casually sent us letters, as if he was unaware of the despair and threat he posed to us. Was it okay to just do nothing? Would I have no choice but to take these negative feelings with me to the grave?

As summer approached, I began to deeply regret the last words I spoke to my master. Every time I entered the kyudojo, my body became stiff, and I found it hard to breathe. Before I knew it, I couldn’t sleep soundly, and the doctor’s comforting words and medicine didn’t make me feel better. My mother, unable to just watch, took me to a temple in Shikoku.

The chief priest was a quiet person. He read sutras in the morning and sat in front of the Buddha at noon and night. He would visit me from time to time, and we would talk about casual everyday things before going home. During that time, I remained lying on my bed.

Several choruses of cicadas passed by. Everything that lived was covered in shame, and I longed to disappear, but I couldn’t commit suicide for the sake of the family I would be leaving behind. At night, I closed my eyes, hoping that I would never wake up again. If I could at least forget everything, I could live.

I closed my mouth in the morning and laid down on the ground during the day and night.

Sleepless days. I couldn’t escape the memories that replayed over and over again.

One night, as I was looking back on my life and regretting every detail, I heard a voice coming from the upper left corner of my head. Just a single “Good.”

The two looked at each other and smiled.

It was a strange feeling of empathy with each other.

Ah, that’s right. Someday, when the time was right, I can tell others about this day. When the truth dwells in Minato’s words.

When Masa-san finished, he grinned.

This was a secret between master and disciple.

“Good.”

The sixth voice was heard.

With three scales, arrows of light descended from the heavens and pierced through Minato’s body. His whole body went numb and his head became hazy.

The sounds came again.

When he decided to “come,” the arrows passed through his body and spread from the soles of his feet to the ground.

Meigen. That was the sound of the dawn.

Three sounds and arrows of light fell from the sky.

The arrows of light pierced my body.

The ultimate goal of kyudo was “the true, the good, and the beautiful.” True archery didn’t lie, deceive, or betray.

Truth in archery was proven by the brilliance of the bow, the tsurune, and hitting the target. What was true was beautiful, and what was good was also beautiful. Once you met the genuine article, you would never be confused again.

Hayake—Yips was a state in which the body became warped due to accumulated fatigue and stress, and the brain ends up malfunctioning. That was why beginners didn’t get target panic. It occurred when the brain remembered the experience of failure so strongly that it issued an emergency alert every time those memories replayed. This became a regular occurrence, and if proper treatment wasn’t taken, it would only get worse. In archery, hayake was called “target panic,” and it was an accurate description of this sickness.

The solution was to regulate one’s breathing. It was to get rid of the distortions in one’s body and allow the brain and body to rest.

There were actually very few people who could maintain a natural and comfortable posture. Regulating the autonomic nervous system and improving the functioning of the central nervous system was the key to good health. The autonomic nervous system referred to the nerves that were responsible for unconscious processes such as pulse, breathing, and digestion. The sympathetic nervous system was dominant during the day, and the parasympathetic nervous system was dominant when sleeping at night. The central nervous system were the nerves that acted like a command center, issuing commands to various parts of the body.

Anxiety and fear were a kind of self-protective instinct. Once living things experienced something scary or painful, they tried to avoid it next time. When it was overreacted to, they became stuck in the memories of the past, worried about the future, and unable to take even a step forward.

When you drove a car, you got too scared to drive if you thought about what would happen if you caused an accident. You made sure you were in good physical condition and inspected your vehicle before driving. Even so, if you caused an accident, you would have to pay for it for the rest of your life. If you were willing to accept all of that, everything else would become possible.

Cars run on gasoline or electricity, but what did the human body need to move? Oxygen. Oxygen produced heat. “Breathing” was an important way to obtain oxygen efficiently. Because modern people breathed with their chests, they were unaware that they were about to drown due to the lack of oxygen in their brains.

Let’s slowly take a deep breath.

You could see what you couldn’t see before.

You could touch what you couldn’t touch before.

The days I spent with you.

The days I will spend with you from now on.

Who should I thank for this happiness?

Right now, I’m breathing.

Blessed are the creatures that shed their fur.

They have rented lodgings on earth and eaten many lives.

Now, I offer a moment of silence.

The fourth shot began. The ten’s heartbeats grated.

Gradually, slowly, the surroundings were dyed in green, like vines were creeping around. This place, with its spreading leaves and blooming orange flowers, was just like the earth after humans have left.

Those who gathered in the Land of the Rising Sun. Kaito, who had just been born, let out a single cry. The roar that announced the joy of birth hit right in the middle of the target.

Ryouhei also raised his voice. What beautiful stars, what delightful companions. Now, let’s set off. Let’s row the boat. What kind of place would the new continent be? What kind of encounters await us?

Seiya followed suit. I knew you were worried about me. I was taking advantage of your kindness. Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for getting angry.

Nanao was enjoying himself, happy, and sun—. The place I belong is where I draw my bow. I want it, I want it, I want it. But it didn’t come true. I got an abode that I should have given up sometime ago. Someone whispered to me that it’s okay to stay here, that there’s no need to leave so quickly. When he blew a whistle, the matooto resounded at the azuchi.

Minato was standing on the earth.

We are temporary residents who are renting a part of the earth.

His memory flew back to a few weeks ago, to something Saionji had said with blooming azaleas behind him.

“Narumiya-kun, please try to explain the ‘Heart Sutra’ to me.”

“Yes. The universe is emptiness. If you think something exists, it exists. If you don’t think it exists, it doesn’t exist. You can see it if you try to see it, and you can’t see it if you don’t try. It’s dyed in every color, and it’s not dyed in any color. The mind is emptiness. The mind is the body, and the body is the mind. Although they are considered different things, they used to be one and the same. The ‘box’ that is me contains all the necessary software. Now, recite the password called an incantation and open the box. The box will then start up normally.”

“That’s a bold interpretation. It’s very interesting. Continuing studying in that vein.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It’s not about right or wrong, it’s about how you feel. That is the answer of the current you. Religion was originally meant to be a guidebook to help you live a better life.”

The mind and body were the same person.

The heart was responsible for pumping blood, the stomach was responsible for digesting food, and the brain was responsible for thinking. All were functions of internal organs, and each had a role. It was just that the roles were divided, and it didn’t mean that the brain was the best and the others weren’t. Confusion arose because only the brain was viewed as special.

Humans tended to rely on vision when obtaining information, and were creatures who liked to take things apart before observing them. However, if you were too short-sighted, you would lose sight of the true essence. If you take a step back, you could see the whole thing. Man and woman, good and evil, the surface and below, real and imaginary numbers, joy and anger, sadness and healing, health and illness, life and death, meetings and partings. Dualism was just one classification method, and the classification depended on the time and situation.

The two couldn’t be separated. They were intertwined from the start.

They were one from the beginning.

A spell was a mysterious word that went beyond human comprehension. Although words could be shown to have special power, the basis for the current phenomenon couldn’t be explained. Because it was “power beyond human understanding,” it was difficult for ordinary people to understand, much less put into words. Just because you couldn’t see, hear, or quantify it doesn’t mean that it “didn’t exist.” It was only latent, not yet manifested.

A text that had been simplified by an expert in the field by only extracting the important points was, on the contrary, even more difficult for beginners to understand. Rewording the text into concrete episodes, in other words, accumulating stories, helps to deepen understanding. Stories were the perfect tool to convey something. It was hoped that someday, someone would explain it in an easy-to-understand text.

Minato and Asahina’s arrows pierced their targets.

Ten people. Forty perfect hits.

This was in the exact region of a hundred shots and a hundred hits.

Viewing this amazing scene, there was a standing ovation in the spectators’ seats.

Ren, who was watching in the stands, squeezed his hands. Seiya’s brother Gaku hugged himself.

“It looks cold. How long will this continue?”

“…I hope it doesn’t end like this.”

No winner was decided, so it became a shoot-out. Each archer released a shot, and the school with the most hits won. If it couldn’t be determined in one round, it was repeated until the ranking was decided.

The oomae had begun to raise their bows.

Roaring bows. Arrows that cut through the wind. Summoning thunderclouds, colorful dragons swam through the archery range.

Dizzingly clear paths of light bounce, dance, and splashed. Legendary creatures ran to the end without turning around or stopping. The “insect” contained in the kanji for “wind” and “rainbow” meant dragon, and although they were feared as gods in the East and monsters in the West, they weren’t influenced by human expectations. Each went their own way. Their colors and speeds were different, but they all arrived at one place—somewhere bright.

Once more, everyone hit.

The people watching the ten, who never missed, felt a thirst in their throats. What were they witnessing? Did something like this truly exist? Were they becoming witnesses to history?

Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, and Minato faced the target.

The five melted into one and returned to that day. They were hearing Greensleeves.

Minato was talking to his mother in a dream.

“This song is about the moment when a disciple told their master the answer to a problem, right? I think the moment the master heard this, they smiled with joy.”

Greensleeves was a “Song of Naru.”

After completing his trials, the boy became an adult.

It was a rite of passage, an initiation.

Farewells and encounters were one and the same. On the winter solstice, the sun died and was reborn. Rather than having two sides, rather than being parallel, it was a chaotic thing that blended and mixed together. Today was like yesterday, and tomorrow was like today. Time didn’t exist there.

“Goodbye” was a magic word. It was devised from the beginning.

The sound of knocking on the door. A ringing sound.

Yearning, chasing, wishing.

Cowering, struggling, being doubted, despised.

Raging, despairing, cursing.

When you repent, mourn, accept death…

And give up.

Bow your head, love, and forgive. The door finally opens.

With a “welcome.”

Love meant forgiving yourself and others.

Could you embrace the person in front of you who you hated so much that you wanted to kill?

Those who cleared this final task were called “adults (saints)”. (3)

Admiration for the opposite sex and affection between parents and children were biological desires based on the perpetuation of descendants, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to love someone who had been kind to you. True friendship was rare and beautiful. Those who walked on the same path, master and disciple and friends. The two would be on a journey that would never end. The only difference was whether one went first or went later.

Even if one, two, three, or even four people finished, the match wasn’t decided.

The fifth, Asahina and Minato, began to raise their bows. They opened their chests wide and stretched their limbs in all directions. Two crosses emerged in the shajo dyed by the sunset. The boys flew into the sky. Migratory birds passed between the clouds, rivers meandering across the land, and cows grazing. A dragonfly rested its wings on the tip of an ear of wheat and flew away, seemingly uninterested in human activity.

A beautiful bow with a length unparalleled in the world. That was a divine implement. The sacred instrument inherited by archers chose its user. It looked for those with clear, unclouded eyes. The sun was a form of unconditional love. An existence that shined on everyone, both good or bad, without distinction. The Japanese called that star Amaterasu Oomikami.

When Minato’s arrow was sucked into its target, Asahina gently brought down his bow.

It was at that moment that Kazemai High School’s victory was decided.

Exclamations and screams arose at the long battle. The applause and cheers were deafening. In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, Seo, and Gaku were crying.

Kaito and Eddie, Ryouhei and Matsuda, Seiya and Kanuma, Nanao and Igarashi, and Minato and Asahina bumped gloves.

Asahina laughed. “That was so much fun. Let’s do it again.”

“Yeah, I had fun too.”

After they finished leaving the shajo, the first years Kanbayashi and Himuro ran up to them, and the members of Kazemai High School’s kyudo club hugged each other’s shoulders.

Minato and Kaito were screaming.

“Woooooooo!”

“Yeaaaaaah!”

“You don’t have to do your yagoe here. You’re hurting my ears,” Seiya chided them, but made no move to remove their hands from his shoulders. Ryouhei put his weight on them, causing the seven to lose their balance and collapse to the ground.

Nanao’s eyes were wet with emotion. It was not a little frustrating for him to be left out of the lineup in the preliminaries. He didn’t want to admit that he was frustrated, not wanting to show such an uncool part of himself, and unconsciously tried to keep up appearances. The other members all noticed this. They had the same feelings. Kaito, Seiya, Minato, Ryouhei, and even Himuro and Kanbayashi patted Nanao on the head. Nanao did the same thing back to them. Tommy-sensei watched the seven boys with a smile as they seemed to return to their childhood. Masa-san picked Nanao up and walked around with him. “Pick me up too!” Ryouhei badgered him.

The appearance of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club was deeply etched into people’s memories.

After the awards ceremony, Kazemai prepared to go home. The support group that brought the cars walked ahead, followed by the club members. The championship cup was held by the president, Seiya.

The feeling of elation couldn’t be contained. The scenery they usually saw was more color saturated and lacked a sense of reality. On the stage of the finals, all five of them achieved six shots without missing. This was exactly a dream came true.

As they were leaving the kyudojo, the Kirisaki members came to congratulate them. The Young Prince’s eyes were more melancholic than usual.

Ryouhei put his arms around Kaito and Nanao’s shoulders.

“Ah, I’m still excited. I feel like running.”

“Alright, let’s run home.”

“You guys are gonna get wiped out if you do that,” Kaito said, but he couldn’t remain still either and started walking faster.

Minato, Kanbayashi, and Himuro formed the tail end of the group. After the match, they walked slowly from exhaustion.

“I’ve been inspired. I’m going to become an archer like Narumiya-senpai.”

“You’re making too much of me. I’m not even close to Masa-san or Shuu.”

“All three of you are amazing.”

Himuro nodded wordlessly.

“Kyah, I’m sorry!”

Someone appeared, interrupting Minato and the others’ conversation. A girl passing by bumped into him when he wasn’t looking, it seemed. The contents of the plastic bottle she was holding spilled onto Minato, and he wiped the liquid with his sleeve.

“Your collar got soaked. Do you want to change?”

“Some of it got into my mouth, but it seems to be just water. It’ll dry right away.”

By the time they finished loading their bags into the car, Minato felt sluggish. He felt nauseous, and his whole body was itching. When he looked at the inside of his arm, he saw that a rash had broken out.

“What’s wrong with me? I feel itchy, and kinda sick…”

“Your neck is turning red! Should I call Takehaya-senpai? He might have some medicine.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I’ll wait until we get back.”

But soon, Minato was crouching down in a corner of the parking lot. Seiya, noticing that Minato and the others were acting strange, rushed over. Minato was clutching his throat as he crouched.

“What’s wrong, Minato!?”

“…I don’t know, but I feel sick and lightheaded.”

“Could it be heatstroke? Do you have a fever? How’s your stomach?”

“It’s hard to breathe…my throat…”

His voice was raspy and his breathes came in short gasps. Nanao rubbed Minato’s back, and the other members formed a human barricade to guard him. From Seiya’s perspective, he was experiencing system symptoms such as nausea, sweating, dizziness, rashes, and shivering. What was going on?

Seiya’s brother Gaku, who had gotten into the car earlier, also ran over and put his nose on the back of Minato’s neck.

“Seiya, wait. It’s really faint, but he smells different than usual. …It’s an unpleasant smell. What is this, ginkgo fruit?”

Seiya and Ryouhei looked at each other.

“Minato’s allergic to ginkgo!”

“That’s right. A long time ago, when our families went to pick ginkgo fruits, we were shocked when Minato got a rash even though he never touched them with his bare hands.”

“But there aren’t any ginkgo fruits this time of year,” Gaku murmured. “Are these symptoms of anaphylactic shock?”

Seiya’s expression froze.

Anaphylactic shock was a condition in which an allergic reaction to food or other allergens caused a drop in blood pressure and deterioration of consciousness.

Masa-san pushed through the human barricade and went to Minato. He was lying limp in the laps of Kanbayashi and Himuro. His face was chalk white.

“Sorry about this, Minato.”

Masa-san suddenly lifted up Minato’s hakama and pushed something that looked like a thick pen into his thigh. There was a click sound. Seiya widened his eyes, and Kanbayashi blinked rapidly.

“It’s a self-injection of adrenaline. I’m allergic to wasp poison, so I carry it around with me.”

Gaku got out his phone. “Coach Takigawa, thank goodness. Don’t worry, I’ll get him to the hospital right away.”

The injection seemed to have worked, and after a while Minato was able to sit up on his own. His breathing had settled down, and it seemed that his life was no longer in danger. Minato was escorted to the hospital by the Takehaya brothers.

Afterwards, the dashcam in one of the parents’ cars parked in the parking lot showed the girl who was holding the bottle. Despite repeated appeals that the water in the bottle was suspicious, the case was shelved without much investigation, as it was assumed that Minato had just accidentally ingested food that he was allergic to.

Seiya had a pained expression on his face.

“I know someone whose hobbies include hacking into surveillance camera data and using AI to analyze internet articles. The girl from the dashcam is a Kuon devotee. We also confirmed contact between a detective and a Kuon family servant. Apparently, the detective got their hands on ginkgo fruits from a university lab. It seems like there are all sorts of people at Kuon’s house.”

“Why Minato?” Ryouhei asked.

“It’s probably jealousy. The Young Prince only has one brother disciple. No one can take Minato’s place.”

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo stamped on the ground in frustration.

“I can’t believe we can’t do anything even though we know that much.”

“It’s frustrating.”

“Yeah, I feel you. But wouldn’t it also be bad if the hacking is discovered?”

Masa-san, who had been listening silently until then, rubbed his cheek.

“We have to punish him hard for this.”

Kuon was spending the weekend at the villa.

“Has that woman’s identity been exposed? How useless. Hmm, no need to bother with a orthopedic surgeon’s son and a bunch of commoners.”

His phone rang, and the screen displayed a certain person’s name.

It was Fujiwara Shuu.

“Kuon Takumi, will you apologize to Minato?”

Perhaps it was because he was calling from somewhere far away, but there was so much noise in the background that it was hard to hear.

“What are you talking about? I’m on vacation right now. Do you mind if I ask you to refrain from calling?”

“He’s heading your way right now. I’m not going to be able to stop him.”

“He?”

Asahina and Eddie had pinpointed Kuon’s location. He was in a richly decorated mansion deep in the mountains. The heavy doors opened.

Masa-san leisurely walked from the central entrance to the front stairwell. A female servant of the mansion, suspicious of the smiling, cheerfully walking stranger, called out to him.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you a guest?”

“Hey there, young lady. I’m glad you seem to be doing well.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot let you through to the next room.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m very close to Takumi-kun.”

Masa-san smiled softly, and the servant felt cold air blowing on the back of her neck. Contrary to his words, his quiet anger was something that couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard he tried.

The woman screamed. “Takumi-sama, there’s a suspicious person here! Somebody help!”

Kuon sensed the man’s impending presence and hurried outside.

Masa-san got behind the men guarding Kuon and slammed his fist into the back of his liver. He dodged another man’s kick, and when he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, Masa-san jumped over the stair railing.

All the while, Kuon was running at full speed. His pursuer closed the distance in the blink of an eye, and Kuon, panicking, tripped on the grass and fell. Despite this, he still crawled on the ground, trying to escape, but couldn’t move forward.

Masa-san grabbed Kuon by the nape of his neck.

“Swear that you’ll never lay a finger on Kazemai’s students again.”

“O-Okay. I swear, so let me go first.”

When Masa-san loosened his grip, Kuon raised himself up and faced him directly. Immediately after, he saw the shadow of a muscular man behind Masa-san. Masa-san punched him in the face without looking back.

Kuon clutched at the soil.

“Who the hell are you!? There’s no way an ordinary person can do that!”

“I’m sure you know that I’m Kazemai’s coach. A long time ago, I learned self-defense. You don’t seem to realize what you’ve done.”

“Isn’t it just a little bit of itchiness? A long time ago, I had a classmate who got itchy after eating eggs, but it cleared up after a week. Isn’t this just a child’s adorable prank?”

“Don’t tell me that you’ve done the same thing in the past? Allergies can be life-threatening if you don’t take care of them properly. What you did was equivalent to poisoning him. Lately, I haven’t been able to control myself…whatever will I do?”

Masa-san put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket. He took out a permanent marker, and after removing the cap, he placed the tip of the pen on Kuon’s cheek.

Approximately ten seconds later, Kuon’s face was covered with the same pattern as the one on the powder container Masa-san had received from his master. Yes, depending on how you looked at it, it looked like a bikini.

The look in Kuon’s eyes changed when he saw Masa-san turn on his phone.

“No way, you’re going to take a photo?”

“A souvenir. I borrowed the pen from Kazemai’s president, and it turned out to be a very tasteful picture, if I do say so myself.”

“You lowly citizen! I’ll call Father!”

“As you requested, I’ve already called him. ‘My foolish son has wronged your friend. Please scold him on my behalf,’ he said and invited me to this villa. Now that I’ve taken some pictures, I think I’ll send them to the Kirisaki twins.”

“Father would never… S-Stop it! Doesn’t Buddhism tell you to not take revenge even when something is done to you? Your real job is being a monk, isn’t it?”

“Everyone keeps calling me a monk, monk, monk. I’m not a monk, I’m a priest!”

As Masa-san’s finger was about to slide across his phone’s screen, the wind created by a helicopter made the leaves and branches of the mountains shake. It was a tremendous amount of dust. When he looked up, the door of the low-flying aircraft opened.

Shuu jumped down. His pale eyelashes were swaying.

“Kuon, if you’re going to use the power of your family, I won’t hesitate to borrow the power of my family as well. Have you forgotten my name?”

“…Fujiwara-senpai.”

Minato also peeked out from the helicopter.

“Masa-san, stop! Don’t do anything more than that! I haven’t learned pro wrestling yet.”

“Good grief, my disciples are always too soft!”

Masa-san and Shuu stood in front of Kuon, who bowed his head in resignation.

Young leaves danced in the sky.

Members of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club gathered at the Yata no Mori Kyudojo.

A fleeting time of overnight practice. The warm sunlight that poured down upon them made them sleepy.

“Oh, what happened to the boys?” Tommy-sensei asked Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo.

“They went to see the dormouse.”

Masa-san pressed his hand to his forehead. “They got too much power, don’t they? Let’s get started on dinner.”

“Yes.”

Minato and his friends were in the forest. They were standing in front of an old mountain hut.

Nanao pointed to the door of the hut.

“At dawn, I volunteered to go look for Miyama stag beetles. Then, I saw it there.”

“Wow, that early morning walk was all about collecting bugs? I’m glad I didn’t go,” Ryouhei said, patting his chest.

Minato asked him to let him sit on his shoulders and peered through the gaps in the tobukuro.* It was a nostalgic scene for Seiya, who was watching them from the side as he waited for his turn to sit on Ryouhei’s shoulders.

“You guys are way too big to do little kid stuff like this,” Kaito said to Seiya.

“You don’t have to look, Kaito.”

“…I guess it’s fine to take just one look.”

Keyaki and Kanbayashi were searching around for new discoveries, and Himuro was listening to the voice of the forest’s master.

The mountains were shining.

The mountains were singing.

By the time the owl woke up from its sleep, Minato and the others had dinner.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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thefinalcinderella · 3 months

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finally finished tsurune volume 3 (except for the afterword) and uh...wow...it certainly is a book

i will have it up later today

#tsurune

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thefinalcinderella · 3 months

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Thank you so much for all your hard work, every Tsurune chapters and contents you translated. I just recently found your blog (wish I knew sooner) but it’s must have been long journey for you now that it’s only a part left. I’m no guru for Japanese but from what I read, this series got many high-level kyudo and religious terms. And you nailed it! Can’t appreciated you enough😭

haha yeah it's definitely been a long journey! I was just looking back at my first tsurune posts and wdym it's been six (6) years!!!! I graduated high school and uni during that time!!!

it's definitely been very tough sometimes but also very rewarding. yeah the kyudo stuff and religious terms are a real bitch to look up sometimes but I did learn a lot (maybe too much). And im glad a lot of people got into tsurune through my translations! it's definitely an underrated gem imo

anyways i will get the last part up soonish and then i'll finally be free (until they announce a surprise book 4 or something)

#ask #tsurune

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thefinalcinderella · 3 months

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Hello I'm annon, but I want to ask one more thing. In the audio drama, the names of Kaito's two older sisters were mentioned. Are the name of Ryohei's sister and Nanao's sister ever mentioned?

No, their names are never mentioned. Although I haven't actually finished the third book so maybe we get a name drop there

#ask #tsurune

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thefinalcinderella · 3 months

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I recently came across your Tsurune's translation. Thank you for translating this. I haven't read the whole thing yet, but there's one thing I'm curious about... Are Nanao and Ryohei in the same class?

I don't think they are in the novels, but I'm not sure about the anime. I'll have to do a rewatch of the show one of these days

#ask #tsurune

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thefinalcinderella · 4 months

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 6 - Genuine (Part 1)

Finally...finally the last chapter...

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

The kumotatewaku is a traditional Japanese pattern that resembles rising clouds. It is often used in the costumes of ancient nobles

The expression used here is 白羽の矢を立てる (literally: sticking a white feathered arrow), which is an idiom that means "selecting someone out of many people"

A chindonya is a kind of old-timey marching band that dressed in elaborate costumes to advertise for shops

Block style or kaisho style calligraphy is the regular script and the most commonly used. Every stroke is carefully executed

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In early June, the prefectural preliminaries for the National High School Kyudo Tournament, also known as the prefectural tournament, were held.

Kyudo supply stores and photo studios were set up around the venue, and the storefronts were lined with commemorative goods for the tournament. The wind was strong on this day, and the young archers were moving against it. The competition event was close-distance shooting, using thirty-six-centimeter kasumi targets with a shooting distance of twenty-eight meters.

For the boys’ individual competition on the first day, Fujiwara Shuu of Kirisaki High School once again won by landing all his arrows. Second place was Kabashima, also from Kirisaki, and third place went to Asahina from Haneina High School, showing the strength of the powerhouse schools. For the girls’ competition, Seo from Kazemai High School placed fifth.

On the second day, it was finally time for the team competition. The format was five-person teams and four shots in zasha. In the preliminaries, the time limit was eight minutes. Forty-two schools were participating in the boys’ competition, and the top eight teams with the highest number of hits in the two rounds would advance to the final tournament.

Tommy-sensei raised his voice. “Now it’s time for the team competition. Kazemai will show its true strength. Everyone, I wish you good luck!”

“Yes!”

After completing the registration process, Kaito, Kanbayashi, Seiya, Himuro, and Minato put their numbers on their right hips. Ryouhei and Nanao were reserve members.

Himuro was expressionless like he always was, but Kanbayashi gently stroked his number.

“Oh no, I might be really happy after all…”

Keyaki nudged Kanbayshi. “Don’t grin like that and get it together. I don’t wanna hear you whine.”

“Of course.”

Next to them, Ryouhei was tying his yellow-green headband.

“Today, my sister, Sae-chan, and Toujou-san are coming to support us. I’m psyched!”

“That’s great, Ryouhei,” Minato and Seiya said.

The Nanao Fan Club had updated its cheering goods and prepared fans with a frog wearing a crown. They also handed them out to support groups and parents, and when the bright green of them swayed, it looked like a chorus of frogs.

As they were about to pass through the noisy venue, people approached Minato and the others. A young prince, twins, a boy with a square face and thick eyebrows, a boy with pleasant features and a crew cut, and an antique doll.

They were Kirisaki’s Fujiwara Shuu, Sugawara Senichi and Manji, Kabashima Umetarou, Yushima Kaoru, and Kuon Takumi. The twins burst into laughter in front of so many of their rivals.

Shuu brought his face close to Minato’s right ear. Since their master Saionji’s left ear was bad, Shuu only showed this habit to Saionji and Shuu.

“Thanks for the birthday present the other day. I’ll treasure it.”

Shuu put his thumb on his yugake. A white underglove with a purple pattern could be seen beneath it.

“I’m glad I was able to give it to you on May 11th this year. I thought it would be perfect for you.”

“The kumotatewaku pattern is rare for undergloves. (1) ——See you in the finals.”

“Yeah, the finals.”

The two of them bumped yugake and returned to their teammates.

Shuu’s gaze drifted to Kuon. Kuon was in the starting lineup for the day, but he was standing separate from everyone else. Everyone could tell that he was isolated, and was not a proudly solitary existence like Shuu. A dissonant sound was wafting from Kirisaki High School.

Kuon, who didn’t care about other people’s concerns, had moved onward. In fact, he was frustrated because he didn’t do well in yesterday’s individual competition.

Manji rested his elbow on Senichi’s shoulder.

“Will we okay with Kuon? I’m more suited to be the starter.”

“It’s frustrating, but his hitting rate is usually high. The coach said there was no problem either.”

“Alright, everyone, let’s go!”

At President Kabashima’s order, Shuu and the others headed to the venue.

Meanwhile, Tommy-sensei and Masa-san were in the shade of a tree, away from the crowd.

Masa-san straightened his collar.

“Why did you remove Ryouhei and Nanao from the starting lineup? There was nothing to criticize about their results.”

“If we make it to the finals, each person would have to shoot twenty shots in total. Even if it’s difficult to shoot twenty shots and hit, how about twelve shots? The aim is to preserve stamina.”

“There’s one more thing I’d like to confirm before we get into the tournament. On the day of the entrance ceremony, I heard you say to Minato and the others, ‘I have given you white-feathered arrows.’ (2) I’m sure that you knew that saying originated from the custom of playing an arrow with white feathers in front of the house of a girl chosen as a sacrifice. Why did you purposely use it?”

“It’s to prepare them. Once a ship leaves the port, you can’t turn back even if you shout to get off.”

“Are you telling them to prepare to share the same fate? Even though those who are wounded might fail again?”

“Hohoho, I didn’t mean it in such a sad way. Youth is the greatest weapon, since they can just start over again and again. I just felt that they could make it to the new continent. The first fleet, the Kazemai High School’s boy’s kyudo team, started with six members. Takigawa-san, you’re the first-born son. When I was able to convince you, I was convinced that we had completed our mission.”

“That’s a bold opinion, typical of Tommy-sensei.”

“It’s true of all sports, but one cannot win by the strength of the athlete alone. Especially in kyudo, the character of the master comes out strongly. Everyone resembles your shooting, Takigawa-san.”

“…My shooting was said to be very similar to my grandfather’s.”

“It’s the spirit of archer that is passed on.”

“…Yes.”

Masa-san looked at the treetops swaying in the wind and laughed.

Following the opening ceremony, the yawatashi ceremony was held.

The boys’ division was called for the preliminaries, and they headed to the waiting area with Masa-san leading them. As always, the most stressful time was sitting in the chairs and waiting. When the team before them finished, the “stand up” signal was given, and they rose from their chairs and advanced to the honza. They bowed at the signal to “begin,” walked to their shooting positions and knelt down. They chose two arrows from the four they had.

First up was the oomae, Kaito. It was lovely how he never trembled when facing the target. The lovelier he became, the more stubborn he got, and he would end up saying things that were different from his true feelings. He would say, “I have no interest in you,” but would grab the other person’s arm and not let them go in the same breath. He lived and breathed kyudo. That was Kaito’s everyday. After his right hand flicked, shouts of “good” came from the stands.

The second, Kanbayashi, raised his bow. The midsummer sun encouraged growth. He absorbed more and more of what was told to him and expanded towards the blue sky. He had seniors who he admired and pursued the shooting he admired. His longing had a zeal that surpassed his anxiety. His arrow pierced the target with a grand hanare.

The third, Seiya, was quiet. Wearing a straw hat and an insect cage, he entered the forest, but stopped when he saw a field of flowers. The neat and trim flowers swayed. When he lay down and looked up at the rising clouds, he felt like he was about to float away. He heard a familiar voice and stopped returning to the sky—he hit.

It was the fourth, Himuro’s, turn. He took the bowstring with a bodhisattva’s hand and looked at the target with a bodhisattva’s eyes. His ability to make an uncurving douzukuri was probably something he was born with. It was his natural posture with no effort put into it. The frogs in the stands jumped when he hit.

The fifth was the ochi, Minato. The white-feathered arrow was proof that he had been allowed to come into contact with the gods. He didn’t resist, go against it, and accepted it as it was. His limbs, stretching vertically and horizontally, were incredibly supple. His body of sixteen, which couldn’t be wished once more after it had passed, embraced the earth, wide and endless.

The matooto sounded.

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo, sitting in the stands, held their breath.

“The boys are amazing.”

“I feel like they have become more and more refined.”

“I heard that Narumiya and Takehaya have also been going to Saionji-sensei. Their drive is different.”

For the second shot, everyone except for Kanbayashi hit.

For the third shot, Kaito, Seiya, and Minato hit.

Keyaki’s chest swelled at the success of his fellow first-years. “Kazemai, do your best!” Shuu’s younger sister Sae and their butler Toujou cheered in a small voice.

For the fourth shot, Kaito hit with all four of his arrows and left the shooting range to applause. After him, Kanbayashi, Seiya, Himuro, and Minato all hit the target. Their result was four, two, four, three, and four for seventeen hits out of twenty. It was a very good start.

Kirisaki was the sixth team to enter the shooting range. A wall of people filled the surrounding area to catch a glimpse of the champions’ shooting.

The oomae, Kabashima, released his arrow.

Senichi, Kuon, and Yushima all hit. The ochi was Shuu.

Wash your heart and turn it into incense; revere your body and turn it into flowers. Those were Kukai’s words, meaning that it was the duty of a virtuous person to serve others without any thought. Those who had a pure heart were fragrant. Shuu knew firsthand that this wasn’t a metaphor. The feeling of euphoria he felt when he brought his face close to the owner of that scent. He heard whispers of wanting to be intoxicated, of not minding sinking to the bottom of the lake if he could have it all to himself, but those were the words of a demon. He must not fall for the sweet words of someone who looked like him.

Shuu’s evil-expelling arrow dashed forward.

The results for the two rounds were announced.

For the boys’ division, Kazemai had thirty-four hits out of forty, Kirisaki had thirty-six, and Haneina had thirty-five.

The Kazemai girls had only twenty-eight hits, so unfortunately they didn’t pass the preliminaries.

Minato and his teammates got the ticket to go to the finals.

After lunch, the finals began. In the afternoon, the wind became stronger and their hakamas fluttered violently.

“It’s time to change the lineup. Yamanouchi-kun will be second, and Kisaragi-kun will be fourth. I’m counting on you,” Tommy-sensei said.

Ryouhei and Nanao received their numbers.

Minato adjusted the position of Ryouhei’s number.

“It looks like the five of us will be standing on that stage again. A year ago, you invited me to the information session for the kyudo club. That was the first time we five met face to face.”

“I wasn’t the only one who invited you. Everyone wanted to do kyudo with Minato.”

“Now, I can draw a bow. I’ve never been happier.”

Kaito brusquely held out his right hand, and the five boys looked at each other. Passionate feelings could be conveyed without words or skin contact.

Ryouhei, Nanao, Kaito, Seiya, and Minato bumped their yugakes together.

Kazemai’s opponent was Uyoshiro High School.

They were wearing bright red headbands. They lived in an area associated with military commanders who were famous during the Sengoku period, and when they went to a competition, they wore a certain armament. It was glasses. It might seem comical from the outside, but they did it very seriously.

The group stood in the first shajo. The oomae readied his bow and fixed his eyes on the target.

The bow maker, the yugake maker, and the arrow maker were the three gods of kyudo. The archer was the one who became intimate with these materialized gods. If there was a slight doubt or confusion, the string would make a muddy sound with those negative emotions. The twill brocade woven by the trinity of gods resembled battle attire. The flowers, birds, wind, and moon on the robe were the prayers of the samurai, and the butterflies (moths) represented the parents of the silkworm, production.

The flowers scattered. The flower battle was a warrior’s honor.

The oomae’s matooto resounded.

Kazemai’s oomae, Kaito, was undaunted. The wind beat mercilessly at his face, and his douzukuri felt like it was about to collapse under the wind, but he withstood it. Patience was his natural disposition. He might seem short-tempered, but he had the conviction to never give up. To not run away from the way of the bow. He was determined to cling to it for the rest of his life.

The nimato, Ryouhei, was listening to the news of the wind. Seeing the faces of his parents and sister in the stands, he felt strongly that he wasn’t alone in this fight. It seemed that people became stupid when they were angry and when they were happy. Their brain stopped working properly. The state in which one’s mind was clear and free from all distractions was called munen musou, and he learned from the path of the blade that you couldn’t fulfill your duties if you weren’t passionate.

The naka, Seiya, had found the answer to Minato’s question some time ago.

Why did humans shed their fur? It was to continue walking.

The ancestors of humans who left the forest for the grasslands learned to walk or run long distances in search of food. Body hair had a heat insulating effect and protected the skin from UV rays, but in order to prevent the body temperature from rising too high, they chose to abandon their fur and sweat instead. Humans had great endurance. The way one breathed was important in walking the long way of the bow.

The ochimae, Nanao, was thinking. Thinking was a linguistic activity.

There were two types of word formation. One was to give a name to something that had been hidden and make its existence manifest, and the other involved the intention of first creating a word and having the concept follow. When you learned a language, you not only acquired wisdom, culture, and thinking, but also the spell of words.

Letters and patterns were magical techniques that had their own power. If you looked down on them as just a means of communication, everything would be embodied and pour down upon them. There were no magic words; words were magic. A story was a kind of magic and truth. If you write it as tsurune, it would be called tsurune. A tsurune was the beautiful sound of a bowstring.

Nanao’s sharp hanare brought forth the next wind.

The ochi, Minato, held his bow.

Just how heavy was this shot?

Just how light was this shot?

“I” was the one who gave it meaning. The god of the bow didn’t smile at those who couldn’t love themselves or others. Because humans were incarnations of the gods.

Minato forgot that he was a human and turned into the matooto.

Uyoshiro had three, three, four, two, and four for a total of sixteen hits.

Kazemai had three, four, three, four, four for a total of eighteen hits.

Minato and his team made it through the first round without incident.

The second round began.

The stands were filled with people wearing blue and yellow-green headbands. The two waves struggled, almost swallowing each other up, almost to the point of spilling over onto the yamichi.

Kazemai’s opponent was Konoe High School.

Their blue arrow feathers and headbands were their trademarks.

Only those with kyudo experience would understand the exhilarating feeling of seeing the actions of five people overlap. There were rules even for movements such as taking a step forward, sitting, and nocking an arrow into a bow, and because there were rules, it was possible to match each other. Ikiai was the embodiment of the red droplets that circulated around the body.

They shot arrows every day. The faces were almost the same. The repeated daily routines were a series of miracles. They take up the bow, hoping to grow even just a millimeter better than they were yesterday. For most people, landing a hundred hits with a hundred arrows was just a dream, and it was precisely because they couldn’t do what they wanted to do that they got absorbed in it. The sound of the arrow hitting the target was pleasant, and they wished it would happen again, but the god of hitting was a contrarian. The moment you wished it, the chance escaped. Approaching something without wanting to approach it was nothing but a dilemma for humans, who had developed enlarged brains.

Don’t think, just feel, as a martial artist once said. How long would it take to reach that state? Even if it was achieved, would it be possible to maintain it? If you kept thinking like this, it seemed that you still had a long way to go.

Kazemai’s archers faced themselves in the form of the targets.

The aggressive Kaito, the lively Ryouhei, the intelligent Seiya, the sparkling Nanao, and the pure Minato.

They highlighted and polished their inherent colors.

Their inexperience became a weapon. Even though they were told that there was darkness an inch ahead, they wouldn’t be able to understand unless they looked into it, and they wouldn’t notice it unless they fell into it. Pain was something you only knew when you suffered it, and hate was something you feared only when you possessed it. The cry of the inner soul could only be learned through experience, and words were powerless there. No matter how many words you wrote, they would never be understood by those who never experienced it. Only an archer knew the heart of an archer.

A world of just two people, the bow and the human.

The bow caught the innocent body falling.

The ecstasy a bow gave you was different from that of humans. Skin with goosebumps and surging droplets. It was a ritual to bind the soul that was about to drift away to the body. There was no sound without a container. You couldn’t make a sound with an empty shell.

Minato and the others raised their bows, spread them wide, and released their arrows. Ashibumi, douzukuri, yugamae, uchiokoshi, hikiwake, kai, hanare. They followed these eight stages and headed towards the heights.

The results of the second round were as follows.

Konoe had three, four, four, three, four, for a total of eighteen hits.

Kazemai had four, three, four, four, four, for a total of nineteen hits.

Kazemai won by a difference of one hit.

Since there was some time until the finals, Minato went out to the front.

He wasn’t feeling bad. If anything, he was focusing on calming himself so he didn’t go too fast. A dull mind and a weak body. At first glance, it might seem like a state far removed from martial arts, but eliminating the “self” was the secret to being able to freely manipulate the body. As long as “I” resided in the body, the god of the bow would not descend upon you.

To become empty.

Even if it could be understood as a concept, it was extremely difficult to embody it.

An elderly man called out to Minato.

“It’s almost time for the finals. Just like last year, the match between Kirisaki and Kazemai is a must-see.”

“Thank you very much. But the match between Kirisaki and Haneina is about to begin.”

“No, no, the match is already decided before it even began, right? Did you see the head of those students from Haneina? A chicken’s cockscomb and a horse’s tail. The training clothes they wore in their Yotube streams looked like something from an old marching band. (3) You’re wearing a clean white kyudogi and your hair is neat. It’s praiseworthy. That’s what a Japanese boy should look like.”

“…I do have short hair, and I like white kyudogi. But, if someone is serious about kyudo, I will acknowledge them as an archer no matter what they wear.”

“What’s with that way of talking? Seems like I thought too highly of you.”

The man left. Minato went outside to focus his mind, but he ended up inviting needless interference.

His yellow-green headband was fluttering. It was something a master had prepared for his disciples.

Minato took a deep breath once more.

The card of Kirisaki versus Haneina in the second round got people excited.

Asahina raised the corner of his mouth.

“Nice. It looks great.”

Eddie tied an orange headband tightly.

“I am trembling at the prospect of a worthy opponent, that I am.”

Matsuda, who had poor eyesight, placed his hand on the shoulder of the poet Kanuma. Igarashi started walking while holding flowers. People naturally gave way to them. The existence of Haneina’s kyudo club was already dramatic in itself. The five of them walked leisurely down the flowery path.

The two schools began to enter the shajo, and the spectators held their breath as they watched.

In the first shajo, Eddie raised his bow. His blond ponytail swayed and sparkled in the sunlight. A stop, an upward turn, and a sweeping stroke. His shooting was like the block style of calligraphy. (4) A work of art that changed seven ways depending on the tools, brushstrokes, style, and word selection. His stance was to never prepare practice sheets, but always treat it as though it was the real thing. He quickly drew back his brush, and the arrow flew towards the target.

The second, Matsuda, hit.

The third, Kanuma, hit.

The fourth, Igarashi, hit.

The fifth, Asahina, begun to raise his bow. His red hair stood out against the green grass. His self-confidence and warm-hearted personality brought out the bright sun. When he drew his bow, his limbs stretched to infinity. The matooto resounded.

Kirisaki also matched their pace.

The oomae, Kabashima, hit.

The nimato, Senichi, hit.

The naka, Kuon, hit.

The ochimae, Yushima, hit.

When the ochi Shuu hit, the scoring board was lined with circle marks.

No one missed their second shot as well. The sound of the matooto and the cheers of the crowd made their bodies numb, and the elation made them desire more and more matooto. They became greedier and greedier.

Kuon was confident that he would never lose to the red-headed guy. If they went on to win, he would be placed in the same picture frame as the Young Prince, Fujiwara Shuu. What a beautiful picture it would be!

He melted into the world of images.

Now, let’s sneak in.

This was Tsujimine High School.

A boy with the hood of his white hoodie pulled deeply over his head walked over. A boy with streaked hair was standing a little further away. He stole the key from the staff room and hid it in his pocket.

Nikaidou and Fuwa were in the music room. They stood in front of the piano and gently opened the lid.

Along with Fuwa’s piano melody, Nikaidou played the drums using his hands and knees. He was very into music games and could even reach an uncanny level of fast drumming in games like Kotaiko no Tatsujin.

One day, after club activities, Nikaidou was tapping a rhythm on his knees on a whim when Fuwa correctly guessed the name of the song.

“Konahanasakuya-hime.”

“…Correct.”

Since then, the sneak-in sessions, not street piano, had continued.

Konohanasakuya-hime no Mikoto, the origin of the song’s title, was the name of the most beautiful goddess in the history of Japanese mythology. Her father was Ooyamatsumi no Mikoto, and her husband was Ninigi no Mikoto, grandson of Amaterasu Oomikami. Her husband accused her of infidelity, and in order to prove her innocence, she set fire to the delivery room and gave birth to three children in the flames.

When the two of them were babies, they had a scarlet seal stamped onto their faces at a festival called Hatsuyama to pray for their healthy growth. It felt creepy thinking that they might have passed by each other somewhere.

Fuwa began to play a song. As he proceeded at a walking pace, Nikaidou stood next to him.

A fearless smile—the start of a duet.

My fingertips hit the keyboard. The melody, chords, and bass line. Nikaidou sped up the main melody while adding improvisations. There was no way Fuwa wouldn’t take up this challenge.

“Nikaidou, can you keep to my speed?”

“Hah, there’s no way I’m following you.”

“Good grief.”

Fuwa ignored Nikaidou and decided to go fast. He was crafty with techniques such as giving someone glimpses and keeping them in suspense. Fuwa always kept his distance from others. Though he had purposely drawn a line telling them not to come over, those who crossed that line were, so to speak, prey. There was no need to hold back. He would shake them, shake them, shake them until they begged for forgiveness.

Nikaidou attended piano lessons when he was a child, but quit after learning “Turkish March” and had been studying on his own ever since. On the other hand, Fuwa’s mother was a piano teacher. Knowing the difference in their abilities, Nikaidou devised a plan. He tried to find rhythms that players might not be comfortable with, such as lowering the key by a semitone or changing chords.

Fuwa made full use of his techniques. Nikaidou clicked his tongue, then reached over Fuwa’s arm and hit a high key. It was more of a fierce battle than a fun session. Sound and breathing filled the room. The music room wasn’t air conditioned in order to prevent unauthorized use. If the sound leaked out, the shame would be unbearable. They played the whole song while sweating.

“It’s not fun at all playing with you,” Fuwa muttered.

“Same here.”

“Get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve always been an arrogant king, Koushirou.”

Nikaidou took off his white hoodie. His body was hot and he was breathing heavily. He reached into his bag to get something to wipe off his sweat and grabbed a towel and his phone.

The results of the prefectural tournament where Minato and the others were in were displayed on the screen.

“…Oh man. I think I’m gonna laugh.”

“You laughing by yourself isn’t a good thing. Alright, I’ll ask. What happened?”

“Kirisaki lost in the second round of the final tournament.”

“What!?”

Fuwa stared into Nikaidou’s large eyes.

“That’s a big upset. Who was their opponent?”

“It’s the school of the Yotubers Asahina and Eddie. Shuu-kun really is a lovely man. As expected, my special won’t let me down. I wonder if Minato-chan will entertain me as well.”

Nikaidou loosened the collar of his white shirt.

After the wind that had been blowing since the morning calmed down, an incredibly bright blue sky spread out above Shuu’s head.

Kirisaki had nineteen hits.

Haneina had twenty hits.

The powerhouse Kirisaki High School was defeated in the second round of the prefectural tournament.

Under the sunlight, the Kirisaki members calmly began cleaning up. “We all did well,” the president Kabashima exclaimed, and Yushima smiled and said, “It’s been a fulfilling three years. I’m grateful to everyone,” but Senichi and Manji couldn’t hide the heaviness of their steps. They endured the overwhelming mixture of feelings of inadequacy and jealousy toward those who had earned the smile of the goddess of victory.

There was only one person who missed in this team, and that was Kuon. Despite the weather having returned to calm, he looked as though he had inhaled a cloud of dust.

One could almost hear the crunching sound of it.

“Fujiwara-senpai, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“But, still! Even if it’s to yell at me, please just say something to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

Shuu left without saying any more.

Devastated, Kuon turned to face the person who appeared in the corner of his vision.

Minato, who was going to talk to Shuu, saw what happened.

“Kuon-kun, it’s usual for Shuu to not express his thoughts after a match. Don’t worry about it,” he told him, then immediately followed Shuu.

Kuon stared at Minato’s back and bit his lip.

Was he pitying me?

Who on earth were you talking to when you said “don’t worry about it?”

I can’t believe someone of the lower class is looking down on me!

Minato had no clue about Kuon’s delusions. He was running after someone he must not lose sight of.

He shouted the name of his brother disciple.

“Shuu!”

Shuu turned around and smiled. It was all he could to not drop his bow.

“I’m sorry, Minato. I wasn’t able to fulfill our promise to meet in the finals. It seems that I don’t have any luck with team matches.”

“That’s not true, Shuu. You’re my first bow friend—a genuine archer. We met at that kyudojo when we were little.”

“Minato.”

“Someday, we will definitely team up together.”

“…Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”

What a cruel person.

You were the one who lit this fire under me.

God of the bow, please save me.

We are babies who don’t know anything. Although no ships nor people have arrived there, the sun is a red, blazing star that will someday turn to dust. We never witnessed the beginning and end of the story, and we believe in an empty dream that cannot be verified. Dreams are seen when one is asleep. People are still sleeping. A dream from which we can never wake. In the darkness, only my old friend knows what I did. Only you can burn me to ashes.

Shuu touched Minato’s forehead with his yugake-covered hand. His cold fingers were trembling.

He couldn’t let go of that unforgettable body warmth.

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#tsurune translation #tsurune

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thefinalcinderella · 4 months

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reborn is getting a dub??????

#and the cast is stacked too???#long time followers will know that this blog used to have a reborn phase #reborn

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thefinalcinderella · 4 months

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 5 - Declaration (Part 2)

Some juicy Masa-san lore drops

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

A pun. The original is "denwa shite mo dare mo den wa"

A yorishiro is an object capable of attracting spirits and giving them a space to occupy

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At the long-distance range, Kazemai and Kirisaki were doing a joint practice.

Kyudo competitions were divided into short distance and long distance. For short distance, the distance between the archer and target was twenty-eight meters, and for long distance, it was sixty meters.

They were scored on this day, using scoring targets with a diameter of one-hundred centimeters. From the center, yellow was ten points, red was nine points, blue was seven points, black was five points, and white was three points. There were also large targets with the same pattern as the kasumi-mato. They used arrows normally used for long distance shooting. The shaft was thinner than that used for short distance, and the feathers had shorter widths and lengths. That was because the lighter the feathers, the better the arrow’s flight.

After entering the shajo, the three Kazemai second-year girls advanced to stand before the targets.

“Wow, that’s a long distance. I feel like a heavier bow would have an advantage here,” Hanazawa said.

“My bow weighs ten kilograms, but will my arrow reach the target?” Shiragiku said.

“I heard that you need to score at least thirty points on four shots to place at the National Athletic Meet,” Seo said.

It was then that Motomura and Sase, alumni of Kirisaki High School, appeared. They had been invited here as today’s special coaches. Those who met the two for the first time exclaimed, “It’s the legendary Saserin!”

Motomura had achieved eighth place at the National Athletic Meet. There was a gentle smile on his face.

“Even with a light bow, you’ll be able to hit the target if you learn the tricks. The purpose of this lesson is ‘hanare’. Since the first-years have just started holding a bow, their hanare tends to be small, so practice using your entire body to make a big hanare. The shooting method is the same Eight Stages of Shooting as usual, but the key point is ‘douzukuri.’ There is something called the ‘Five Torsos’ when it comes to douzukuri.”

Sase stood in front of everyone, holding an illustrated document. The illustrations depicted the idol Noririn, and there were detailed illustrated explanations of the Eight Stages of Shooting.

He opened the douzukuri page and showed it to everyone. Soru-dou, where the torso bent backwards. Kagamu-dou, where the torso bent forward. Kakaru-dou, where the torso was leaning towards the target. Noku-dou, where the torso was leaning to the right. Chuu-dou, where the torso’s center of gravity was the most stable with an upright douzukuri.

The Kazemai first-year Keyaki asked a question.

“I’ve heard that chuu-dou is better for short distance, but does that mean it’s different for long distance?”

“That’s right. Even if a slender princess like Noririn drew her bow like usual, her arrows won’t be able to fly far. First off, ashibumi should be almost the same as for short distance, or just a little bit narrower. And that’s where noku-dou comes in. Tilt your torso to the right. For hikiwake, the bow should be pointed slightly upward, and the arrow tip should be aimed slightly higher and at a fixed point. The arrow isn’t as horizontal as it is in front of the target!”

Sase, perhaps more enthusiastic than usual with Noririn in front of him, was speaking differently than usual. Kanabayshi’s eyes sparkled as he spoke vigorously, and Himuro was his usual Maitreya.

Motomura hid his mouth with a closed fist, brought the talk to an end while stifling laughter.

“I want you to focus on nobiai. In long distance, you should have a low trajectory, fast speed, and stretch yourself forward.”

Using Motomura’s voice as a signal, they stood in front of the targets with their bow and arrows.

First, Kanbayashi faced the target. Standing before a target that was farther and larger than usual, it was difficult to get a sense of distance. He wasn’t sure which direction to bend his body, so he swayed like a seesaw.

“Ah, I guess I raised the tip too high. It hit way too high up.”

He followed the arrow in a pose similar to a salute.

Keyaki went next. At kai, he leaned his body to the right, stretched left and right, and released his arrow. It missed the target.

“It’s surprisingly difficult to stretch out on the arrow line.”

Himuro shot in his usual form and hit the outermost white ring.

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo went after him. At daisan, they tried to bend backwards. They usually practiced to keep their douzukuri upright, so they had to do it a few times to get used to it. They had Motomura and Sase observe them from behind, and visually memorized which part of the yazuridou overlapped with the center of the target. After about twenty shots, they seemed to get the hang of it, and their hit rate skyrocketed.

At break time, they opened their lunch boxes. Minato passed around a large Tupperware to everyone.

“A former member of the bad pun association lives nearby, and he gave me some vegetables he grew himself. Have them if you like.”

Ryouhei immediately dug in.

“It’s eggplant and pork grilled with ginger. It really makes the rice taste better!”

“Recently, I’ve been trying my hand at home gardening. I was surprised to learn that there are so many varieties of vegetables.”

“Is there such a thing as a vegetable sommelier?” Nanao said.

Honeyed lemons were being passed around among the Kirisaki members. It was a staple snack of the Kirisaki kyudo club, which had been around for more than thirty years. Senichi put one in his mouth and another into Manji’s.

“I think I’ll learn how to cook too. I want to treat the person I like to a homecooked meal.”

“Sen-nii, you love me that much?”

“It’s obviously so that he’ll be popular with girls,” The third-year, Kabashima, hung his head. “Stop it. What happened to kickboxing? You guys are doing too many things.”

Next to him, Yushima nodded.

Kuon was also given a honeyed lemon. However, he said, “I don’t eat food made by amateurs,” and wiped his chin without even touching the container. The people around him either said “What’s with that attitude?” and “As expected of Kuon-sama.”

After the lunch break, the competition began.

Members of the Kazemai and Kirisaki kyudo clubs lined up with four arrows in their hands. The oldest students were going first.

Kirisaki’s Kabashima and Yushima were rolling their shoulders in preparation.

“Just you watch. I’m gonna land my arrow in the center in the name of Kirisaki. The Kazemai girls are paying attention. Yushima, why don’t you wear a wig? That’ll make you popular with the girls.”

“I wouldn’t mind going along with that if you put on a hippo’s tail, Kabashima.”

“…Did the twins’ foul mouth rub off on you?”

“Our club has a Young Prince, twins, and an antique doll, doesn’t it? If you keep staying in such an extraordinary place for a long time, hair will grow in your heart, even if it doesn’t on your head.”

“You’re quite right.”

As declared, the two hit the yellow and red rings and achieved the high scores of 35 and 31 points.

Among the second-year students, Shuu, Senichi, and Manji shot in a three-person team. The twins looked smug.

“Pupupupu, we’re the strongest trio.”

“Sen-nii, shoot right in the middle.”

Shuu’s arrows all landed in yellow, the highest point, and Senichi and Manji both got thirty-three points. When it was the first-years’ turn, Kuon also got a high score.

As for Kazemai, Hanazawa got eighteen points, Shiragiku got twenty, and Seo got thirty. Kaito got thirty-four, Ryouhei got twenty-three, Seiya got thirty, Nanao got twenty-seven, Minato got thirty-three, Kanbayashi got twenty-five, Himuro got twenty-eight, and Keyaki got sixteen.

After everyone finished shooting, Shuu had forty points and Kuon had thirty-nine, giving Kirisaki a one-two finish.

Unable to hide his delight, Kuon walked past Senichi and Manji and approached Shuu.

“Fujiwara-senpai, did you see?”

“Yes, congratulations.”

That was all Shuu said before he left. There were flames in Kuon’s chest.

That’s all? That’s all? He should have more praise for me.

Why can’t he give me the smile he gives to the lowly?

He watched Shuu talking to the twins with a smile.

After the competition, Minato stayed in the entrance hall with Keyaki, Kanbayashi, and Himuro.

“Narumiya-senpai, thank you for the delicious lunch. It’s sad that Masa-san is absent today. Is his urgent business related to the shrine?” Kanbayashi said.

“Maybe. I don’t know either.”

In actuality, since Masa-san said that he didn’t like eggplant, Minato made “eggplant and pork grilled with ginger” for him to try. Maybe Masa-san realized that he was going to make him eat eggplant and ran away.

Next to him, Keyaki frowned.

“I texted him in the afternoon, but it was left unread. It’s exactly ‘I tried calling, but no one answered.’ (1) Hah, the flexible thinking training paid off, didn’t it?”

“Hahaha…it’s like there are two Seiyas,” Minato said.

“Me reaching Takehaya-senpai’s level? How unthinkable. Anyways, this is the first time that something like this happened, isn’t it? We could try sending something like, ‘What are you doing right now?’ but I don’t feel comfortable with club members prying into the coach’s private life while he’s away.”

“You have a point.”

Just when the four were about to step forward, they ran into Kuon, who was acting alone.

Kuon had a blatantly disgusted look on his face.

“Is this a commoners’ gathering? How vulgar, standing around and talking near the doorway. Narumiya-kun, you seem to be going around talking about target panic like it’s a disease, but target panic is just an excuse for the unskilled.”

“Narumiya-senpai has never gone around telling people that he had target panic,” Keyaki objected.

“Really? Target panic is just the result of a bad instructor or bad practice method. It isn’t a disease at all.”

“Are you saying that you have follow-up studies on people who had target panic? It’s valuable that you’re doing your own research on yips. I’d like to take a look at that research.”

“Well, even without something like that, the best proof is that my middle school was a strong kyudo school, and there was no one with target panic around me.”

Just when it seemed like Keyaki was going to continue arguing, Himuro spoke up.

“That’s like saying, ‘No one around me has died from the flu or the new strain of virus, so you just have a cold…’”

Minato, Kanbayashi, and Keyaki’s mouths dropped open when Himura, who they had hardly ever heard before, spoke. Meanwhile, Kuon’s face turned bright crimson.

“You dare to speak to me, you lowly commoner!? Who do you think you are?”

Behind Kuon, who was engaged in a war of words, the twins stood with their arms crossed.

“You’re the one who should be answering that question, Kuon,” Senichi said.

“There’s nothing great about people who act self-important. Our kickboxing instructor is a former champion, and his motto is ‘Stay high in ambition, low in stature,” Manji said.

Just as Senichi and Manji struck a fighting pose, the Young Prince appeared. Ryouhei was with him.

“Kuon, the first-years have been summoned.”

Kuon gave Minato and the others a sharp look and left immediately. Keyaki and the others followed.

Shuu saw them off, then stood on Minato’s right side.

“Minato, there’s something I want to ask you. I talked to Ryouhei about it earlier.”

“Okay, what is it? You’re acting so formal.”

“I’m building my own dojo. I’m planning to invite famous archers from all around the country. Minato, will you help me?”

Minato looked into Shuu’s eyes.

“…Of course.”

Senichi and Manji also pounced on it.

“Fujiwara Dojo!? Wow! Let us join too!”

“Yeah, Sen and Man can also join.”

“Woohoo!” Contrary to the enthusiastic twins, Minato was looking at his palm.

When the people around them talked about their dreams for the future, Minato felt lonely, like he had been left behind. Shuu, his brother disciple and bow friend. He was going further and further ahead. Minato was busy with kyudo, housework, and schoolwork, and had no interest in anything else.

What did he want to do in the future? What kind of job did he want to have?

He couldn’t find anyone he wanted to talk to.

During that time, Masa-san was walking along a gravel road filled with the scent of the sea.

His stepbrother, Ren, was next to him.

“It’s nice to be able to go on a trip with my cute little brother.”

“Why did you follow me?”

“I helped you when you got injured, didn’t I? The nurses found out about that and got mad at me.”

“I was an idiot for making myself owe you a favor. We’re not sharing a room at the inn.”

“This is what they call ‘in for a penny, in for a pound.’ I guess this can’t be avoided once we became family.”

Masa-san had no choice but to remain silent.

The loud chirping of birds descended from above. Since the trees were covered in leaves, it was difficult to find the source of the voice. The slopes of the mountain were dotted with beehives.

The two walked around the island and looked around the wharf. Perhaps because Ren was holding a single lens reflex camera, he was often approached by locals who thought he was a birdwatcher. Everyone was friendly here. They got into the rental car and headed to their next destination.

Primitive Shintoism still remained on this island. The object of worship was a rock, which was the deity’s yorishiro. (2) The torii gates were built later with the introduction of Buddhism, and were not originally present. It was a land of strong taboos, and because it had resisted human intervention, the beautiful, untouched forests and creatures were still visible in their ancient form.

They stopped by a certain shrine. They climbed the stone steps that stretched through the thick forest. There was no one around the shrine, and the front shrine was locked.

Ren peeked inside.

“There’s a huge kasumi-mato on the side.”

“That’s an oomato used for long distance shooting.”

“Now, where does the chief priest live?”

There was an unnatural vacant lot. Weeds were overgrown, and there was no house at the place indicated by the address.

As they descended the stone steps, a local called out to Masa-san.

“The shrine up there is wonderful. It’s said to have a sealing power.”

“Yes. There’s an oomato inside.”

“The chief priest shoots the target every year. It’s the town’s biggest festival that goes on all night long. In addition to the object of worship, human ashes are also enshrined at the shrine. They are the remains of an ascetic who’s said to seal every conceivable thing and returned them to nothingness. Someone claiming to be his descendant appeared, wanting his ashes to be buried somewhere else, but of course the parishioners refused. However, one of the townspeople secretly sold them. Three days later, they were struck by lightning. They reaped what they sow. The gods were watching.”

“Is this person the buyer?”

Masa-san showed the local a picture on his phone.

“…Yes, they look very similar. Let me go check it with the others.”

Masa-san looked up at the trees.

That night, the innkeeper spoke to them.

“We’ve been waiting for you two to come. Would you like to join our morning tour tomorrow at six? Let us take you to places tourists normally don’t go to.”

The club members were changing clothes in the Kazemai kyudojo’s changing room.

Outside the window, there were three tits perched on the fence. In the rain, they puffed out their fluffy feathers and huddled together.

After Ryouhei finished changing, he took out a book from his bag.

“Nanao, look, look. The First English Phrases Learned by Negatives.”

“Don’t you mean ‘natives’?”

“Huh? Yeah, that’s right. The store on the cover is retort.”

“You mean retro?”

“Huh?”

“Everyone’s been so out of it lately. Maybe the pun training was too effective. Is it because Masa-san’s away this week? Prefecturals is just around the corner, so we need to get our spirits back up.”

“You’re right. By the way, where’s Minato and Seiya?”

Speak of the devil, the door to the changing room swung open, and Minato appeared. He didn’t look good.

Nanao approached him.

“What’s wrong, Minato? Did you go back to get something you forgot in the classroom?”

“I’m going to be late for club activities today. My yugake’s missing.”

“What!?”

Ryouhei, Nanao, and even Kaito ran out of the changing room. They pinched their hakamas between their fingers like princess’s dresses and ran up the stairs, trying not to step on their hems. When they went to Minato’s classroom, they saw a crowd of people there. Seiya was among them.

The ends of Seiya’s eyebrows were lowered.

“It’s highly possible that it was stolen. There are several other students who are missing their wallets and phones.”

“At school? That’s crazy,” Kaito said.

“The teachers are checking the security camera footage right now. There’s no point in us staying here. Let’s go back to the kyudojo.”

Afterwards, all of Minato’s classmates were gathered together. They answered individual questions such as who was the last to leave the classroom, whether anyone from other classes had entered, and whether they had seen anyone suspicious.

Minato was also questioned.

“You’re the only one who had kyudo equipment stolen. Did you leave it at home?”

“No, I had it with me when I went to school in the morning.”

“Maybe the thief thought that there was a wallet in the drawstring bag. What time did you leave the classroom?”

“It was right after homeroom ended, so around four o’clock.”

“Is there anyone who can prove that?”

“A student from my club came to get me, so I think he can prove it.”

Even though they were victims, they were being treated like suspects. When everyone left the classroom after what felt like an interrogation, there was an air of exhaustion surrounding them. Now that they knew that the culprit might be one of them, all of Minato’s classmates suspected each other. The after-school interview lasted several hours.

Once released, Minato hurried to the kyudojo. With prefecturals coming up, he became impatient when his routine was disrupted and his practice time cut short.

Tommy-sensei and Seiya came out to greet him, and the three took deep breaths together.

“The staff contacted me earlier and said that a suspicious person was captured on the school gate’s camera. For the yugake, how about you borrow a beginner’s glove for the time being?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wouldn’t a great detective solve this case? Like an elementary school kid with glasses, or a university student with bushy hair,” Kaito said.

“Add a man who likes black tea to that. I hope the yugake is found,” Nanao said.

“I’ll lend you my underglove. How about a Java sparrow pattern?” Ryouhei said.

The other club members also gathered around, and Minato’s cheeks slackened at everyone’s concern.

Minato quickly borrowed the club’s yugake, but it was too big for him. The thumb was so long that he couldn’t flick it at hanare. However, if he put his thumb in a different spot than usual, it wouldn’t fit, and the position of the tsurumakura also became slightly off. He learned unexpectedly that there was a sense of discomfort when the yugake craftsman was different.

He wanted to talk to Masa-san. But it also pained him to add to his errands when he was already so busy that he couldn’t even show up. Minato was restless that night, unable to sleep even when he went to bed.

The thief was arrested the next day. It was a man in his thirties, who confessed that he did it after he got annoyed at seeing high schoolers enjoying themselves. Minato’s yugake returned to him, warped by water absorption after the thief threw it in a river. Apparently, he got rid of it because it had Minato’s name written on it.

It was something truly irreplaceable. He hugged his yugake tightly.

His replacement strings and giriko powder were also ruined, but the dragonfly-patterned pouch was miraculously unscathed.

Masa-san, who was contacted by Tommy-sensei, finished his business and rushed over.

“Minato, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be with you as your coach during this critical time.”

“It’s fine. This yugake I borrowed seems to be a little big.”

“There are also yugake at the Yata no Mori kyudojo, so let’s try them out and think about whether you should buy a new one.”

“Okay.”

Minato breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his master’s smile for the first time in a long while.

He tried using the borrowed yugake for a few days, but it never felt right. His yugake was something he met when he was in his first year of middle school and used for more than four years. His hand had become so accustomed to it that it rejected other yugake. Normally, one should avoid changing gloves so close to a match, but it couldn’t be helped. After consulting with his father, he decided to buy a new one.

Minato was at the Yata no Mori kyudojo.

The moon spread ripples of light that pulsated. An owl hooted from somewhere, and the trees rustled. The night sky and the forest seemed to be singing.

Masa-san, dressed in a kimono, picked up his bow.

“The only way to get a new yugake to adapt to your hand is to shoot many times. Let’s do that.”

“I only need a place to shoot, you don’t need to accompany me. You seem busy.”

“I also feel calm here. Can I shoot with you?”

“Of course.”

Masa-san raised his bow up high at the target behind Minato.

Hikiwake, kai, hanare—. There was a sound of something piercing the azuchi. Masa-san also missed his next shot. For him to miss twice was very rare.

When Minato returned from retrieving the arrows, Masa-san had put his arm back into his sleeve.

“Even you have off days sometimes, Masa-san?”

“I haven’t held a bow for almost a week, so this is the consequence. Gramps would explode from anger if he saw me. He’d say that archers need a strong presence of mind and ask me what was I doing.”

Minato mentioned something that was bothering him ever since he visited Masa-san’s apartment the other day.

“Sorry for the rude question. I saw a bag of medicine in the corner of your kitchen. Are you going to the doctor?”

“Oh no, no. That’s for hornet stings. I was stung by a hornet in the past, so it’s just in case. I just bought a new one because the warranty had expired.”

Minato was relieved now that he knew that Masa-san wasn’t feeling unwell.

“I’m glad to hear that. By the way, when I came here, I ran into Ren-san and received souvenirs for the club. They are island specialty sweets. He said that he went on a secret trip.”

“It’s not a secret trip anymore, then, is it? That Ren, what is he planning?”

“Planning?”

Masa-san put his hand between his brows and took a deep breath. He had an “Oh crap” look on his face. He reached his hand out for the moon, and something with wings descended upon him.

“Oh, we’re high school students, so don’t worry, we won’t investigate who Ren-san went on a trip with,” Minato added.

“Ren went on the secret trip with me.”

“We were looking for someone. My birth father, and my deceased younger brother.”

“…What?”

Fuu the owl nibbled on Masa-san’s long fingers, then started to groom its feathers. Masa-san put Fuu on Minato’s shoulder and went to the archery range.

“Cutting things short, this time was also in vain. I had a younger brother who was three years younger than me, and we were related by blood. Even though I was young, I was proud of the fact that I became an older brother. I really loved him. But when he was three, he was kidnapped by my birth father.”

“Your dad and your little brother?”

“Yeah. He was in the photo Nanao gave me. I asked the parishioners to confirm it, so I’m pretty sure. Who is in the picture next to him? I couldn’t tell if he was my little brother grown up or someone else. In my memories, my brother was curled up sleeping in my lap.”

“W-What did Ren-san say?”

“Ren said ‘in for a penny, in for a pound.’ It looks like he’ll be going along with me. Ren’s father and my mother are childhood friends, and they’re helping me find my brother. When they found out that my birth father was planning to take me away as well, they hurriedly entered the family registry because it would be easier to move in case of an emergency. We’ve also consulted with the police, but it’s just an endless cycle of getting hints of them before they disappear again.”

“Why is your birth dad so obsessed with your little brother and you?”

“He said something nonsensical like, ‘Those who have the same special genes as me should be raised in the proper place.’ Even if I can see paranormal things, why does it matter? He was disliked for being shady but worshipped by others at the same time. Either way, he was treated as a heretic. Since Yata Shrine isn’t affiliated with any organization, there is no rule for inheriting surnames, and he’s a distant relation of the Yasaka family. He never did his duties as a priest and spent all his time in the shrine’s archives, and he never acted like a father even once. It happened the year after my mother remarried, when I was in my first year at university. He sent me the death certificate for my brother. And what’s more, it was on my birthday… Ever since that day, my birthday no longer existed.”

“That’s awful…”

“Give my brother back, give him back, give him back. I’ve chanted those words tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of times. It’s no longer a prayer. It’s a curse.”

“Masa-san!”

Minato reached for Masa-san’s hand, but was deflected. Fuu took off in surprise.

“Minato, don’t touch me right now. No one believes that my brother is dead, but there was a doctor who assisted my birth father in his evil deeds. He has supporters. I’m glad I didn’t find him this time. I don’t know what I’ll do if I see him and the people who helped him.”

Masa-san looked up at the sky. The full moon was shining.

When people looked up, it could mean a statement of declaration.

A declaration—a contract with the gods.

“My birthday has become the anniversary of my brother’s death. I will never forgive those people who rewrote the story of me and my brother. No matter how many times we’re reborn, I’ll always find them and end their lives with my own hands—”

Every day, he put his hands together in prayer.

I want to see you, I want to see you.

Why aren’t you in this picture?

Would his soul be reincarnated with this hatred that rose up within him? Memories engraved even in undifferentiated cells transcended dimensions. A flame that wouldn’t be extinguished for a thousand or ten thousand years.

Was it possible to live with such a heavy burden? Living was hell, dying was hell, there was no heaven or earth in the looping spiral staircase. Wandering forever, never getting anywhere. Unable to put down roots in the earth or soar through the sky. Days when he cut his own body with a knife. He knew it wasn’t something to be said aloud, so he kept quiet.

I wasn’t born to hate anyone.

That was what Minato heard.

A heartbreaking cry. A soundless voice.

He didn’t know whose voice it was, but this was Masa-san’s real voice.

“Correction! I’m correcting you. What you said earlier wasn’t true. Masa-san is just a dirty old man. That’s all!” Minato shouted.

“Mi, Minato?”

“If a priest said something like that and his wish was granted, wouldn’t it be a problem? I’m going to learn professional wrestling. I’ll put you in a chokehold and stop you!”

Masa-san blinked a few times, then burst into laughter.

“It’s too much, Minato.”

“What is?”

“Everything. My disciple really is cute.”

“Huh? Don’t call me cute! In the first place, everyone celebrated your birthday for you, and then you say that you don’t have a birthday? What a selfish thing to say. My mom used to say that your birthday is a day to say thank you for being born.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll keep it in mind. I take back what I said earlier.”

“Masa-san, you’re acting like a middle schooler.”

“I don’t want to be told that by a kid.”

“I’m not a kid! I’m sixteen, a second year in high school!”

Masa-san was clutching his stomach as he laughed. How rude. I’m being serious.

The bright red something that had shrouded Masa-san disappeared.

Guren, meaning “crimson lotus,” was originally a Buddhist term, and the seventh of the Eight Cold Hells, the Padma hell, was also called the “hell of the crimson lotus.” Those who fell into this hell were said to suffer from severe pain as their skin and flesh were torn off due to the severe cold. They were said to look like red lotus flowers.

Please, don’t go to the farthest reaches of the north.

Don’t disappear from my sight.

A second time.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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thefinalcinderella · 4 months

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ok here's the long awaited folder with the tsurune: irodori no issha audio dramas!

the videos aren't subbed but i have translated them all here

#tsurune

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thefinalcinderella · 4 months

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hmmm, sorry but do u know where i can find the video for the audio drama? i tried to look for it on ytb but i didnt see any.

I actually have all the videos downloaded but im unsure how to share them with people. idk if putting them on youtube is a good idea considering how they're supposed to be limited time videos. Maybe I can put them in a google drive folder? or another video hosting site? please give me some ideas

#ask

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thefinalcinderella · 5 months

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google maps wrapped 2023

you confused your right and left 523 times

your most traveled-to destination was your own home

you said "girl shut the fuck up" to the voice giving directions every time it told you you'd made a wrong turn

#this is me

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thefinalcinderella · 5 months

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Hanabishi fusai covers kill it every time ☺️

This series needs a manga!!!

#hanabishi fusai no taima chou

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thefinalcinderella · 5 months

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 5 - Declaration (Part 1)

whoa it's been more than a month since i posted here

anyways masamina fans come get ur food

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

The original Japanese is "生者必滅、会者定離", which contains the characters for kai and hanare

These are all traditional Japanese wind instruments

Takamagahara is the home of the gods in Shintoism

An imina is the real name of a noble or deceased person

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The light rain was falling onto their kyudo raincoats.

Minato and Shuu were visiting the kyudojo where Saionji had taught them when they were young. It was the perfect place for intensive training as they could avoid the public eye. But something unexpected happened.

“Please let us join the Saionji school,” the twins Senichi and Manji said.

“I as well. I would very much like to learn from the master of the Saionji school of kyudo,” Seiya said after them.

Saionji’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Oh my, you are all being very dramatic, aren’t you? I don’t have such a sign put up, though. Do you have the approval of your current teachers?”

“Yes, there is no problem.” “Please let us become your disciples.” “Please.” The three refused to budge, their heads bowed. Saionji laughed aloud as he looked at the three round heads lined up.

“I’m not taking any disciples, but let us draw our bows together. It’s a pleasure to have more companions. I welcome you all.”

Seiya bowed deeply, and Senichi and Manji pumped their fists.

First, they swept, sang prayers, read sutras, meditated for three minutes, and did warm-up exercises. Then, Saionji told them to do these things at home next time.

“It has been a long time since I’ve held a bow in front of people, but Fujiwara-kun asked me to do it, so I had no choice but to accept it. Please watch my shooting.”

Saionji went before the targets with four arrows. He raised his bow up high. His eyes were half-closed, similar to the Buddha’s meditative state. The genuine article couldn’t hide his brilliance even when he became old. The rain hid the scenery that should have been visible, even erasing the sounds of people that should have been audible.

The drawn bow overflowed with joy and begged him not to let go yet. The kyudo terms “kai” and “hanare” came from the Last Teaching of the Buddha, “Death is the doom of every living thing, those who meet must part.” (1) The truth that no one could overturn, and a proud statement of will by the archer who accepted his mortality but never stopped walking. The bow and archer were together until the very end.

When the arrow landed at twelve o’clock, just before the target frame, Senichi and Manji let out cries of admiration.

The second arrow landed at six o’clock, also right before the target frame.

The third shot hit the target at nine o’clock, near the target frame once again. At this point, Seiya’s body was trembling. “N-No way,” Senichi and Manji muttered. Shuu and Minato were silent.

For the last shot, Saionji hit the target at three o’clock, the arrow just grazing the target frame.

Minato went to collect the arrows. Meanwhile, Senichi and Manji were still extremely excited.

“It’s difficult just to hit the target, but to hit the target in different directions!? That’s superhuman!”

Unusually, Shuu showed emotion on his face. That was no wonder, since his master granted his disciple’s wish. He was intoxicated with this greatest luxury.

“Aim at the target without aiming, while having the skill to hit the spots he’s aiming at. After personifying a hundred shots, he aims for even higher peaks. Awa-hanshi from Zen in the Art of Archery was able to do the same thing, apparently. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be in this miraculous place.”

“As expected of Shuu’s master. I got goosebumps.”

“It feels like a legend becoming truth, and truth becoming myth.”

Senichi and Manji were speaking enthusiastically, but Seiya felt something like despair.

“I’ve heard about it, but when I actually see it with my own eyes, it just makes me realize how weak I am. No matter how much I practice, I don’t think I’ll ever reach that level.”

When Minato returned from arrow collecting, the five of them sat in front of Saionji.

“My earlier shots are improper, so please don’t copy them. The way of the bow is about perfecting one’s personality and uniting with nature. It is not about hitting a target with arrows. It would be difficult to suddenly free your mind from obstructive thoughts, so the first step is to visualize good form. Believe in yourself and love yourself wholly even if you are hopeless. Then verbalize ‘I can do it’ and fix that into your brain. Your brain will faithfully respond to your words and send commands to each part of your body. If you change your thinking, your body will also change.”

Shuu added, “This is an easy-to-understand example of the placebo effect. If you take a simple nutritional supplement after hearing that it’s ‘medicine,’ your symptoms would recover or be alleviated. It has been medically proven that the expectation or pleasure of a drug activates the part of the brain that boosts the immune system.”

“That’s right. And if we go one step further and follow the voice of our inner soul rather than the voice of our brain, the powers we have as living beings will begin to function. Saying ‘keep at it’ with your heart even when your body is tired will only create an estrangement. Your soul should be telling you that it wants to rest.”

“So, you’re saying that the words uttered by the body, mind, and soul should be the same.”

“We are immature creatures who have not yet matured as humans. It could also be interpreted as saying that we still have room to grow. When we learn to listen to the voices of our inner souls, good situations naturally follow.”

Then, they let out yagoe.

As soon as they released their arrows, they let out a powerful “Yah!”

Minato and Shuu roared without hesitation. It was a lion’s roar. In the other martial arts kendo and judo, one shouted kiai, but this technique had somehow disappeared in kyudo. Seiya, unused to it, was reserved, but Senichi and Manji shouted without hesitation.

“Whoa, this actually feels good.”

Saionji observed everyone’s shooting forms.

“Keep stretching, keep stretching. Yes, that’s perfect.”

“When you reach daisan, your right elbow will remain tense. At kai, the bow hand and sword hand twist, as though wringing a rag.”

They also practiced stretching out their arms and lightly gripping the pillars, then twist their elbows without moving their hands.

After finishing two hours of practice, Minato took out his bento box.

There was takoyaki inside.

“There might not be enough since it was intended for three people. Shuu is around here.”///

Senichi and Manji were glued to Shuu.

“It’s kinda refreshing to see Shuu eating takoyaki in his kyudo clothes.”

“Sen, Man, if you’re not going to eat them, then I’ll have them.”

“Hey, wait, we’re eating them! What, this is really good.”

“They seem to contain the Narumiya family’s secret ingredients.”

“No wonder Shuu loves takoyaki.”

Senichi and Manji devoured them in no time, and Shuu, who was trying to enjoy them thoroughly, stared at the empty bento box.

When they were about to head home, Saionji stopped Minato and Shuu, and asked Seiya, Senichi, and Manji to return home first.

The rain had stopped before they knew it.

The azaleas withstood the weight of their wet petals.

On the scarred floor of the dojo, the long shadows of one man and two boys faced each other.

The sun tilted to the west, dyeing the horizon red, and the sky became a river of deep blue and madder. Purple-tinged clouds dyed by two-colored light flowed slowly along the river. The clouds constantly changed their expressions as they drifted, never remaining in the same shape. Everything returned to the mother sea.

The setting sun gave off its last rays behind Saionji’s shoulders.

“The statute of limitations has already expired. I was hiding something from both of you. In actuality, I told Narumiya-kun’s mother that he was drawing a bow under my tutelage. After the accident, Fujiwara-kun was saddened by the fact that he wasn’t informed of anything. It was a foolish act on my part. I apologize.”

Shuu was ashamed.

“Since Saionji-sensei didn’t say anything, I thought that there must have been some sort of deep reason behind it. I also knew that it wasn’t as though Minato had suddenly lost interest in kyudo.”

Saionji looked into Minato’s eyes and continued.

“Narumiya-kun’s mother once watched a match that you and Fujiwara-kun were in. She told me that she cheered for you both. The promise that you made with your mother has already been fulfilled. Please be rest assured.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

Shuu put his hand on Minato’s shoulder. A faint vibration was felt.

“I guess it was bad of me to keep things a secret… After the accident, I distanced myself from the kyudojo and didn’t contact anyone. Because of that, I made Shuu worry as well. I’m sorry, Shuu.”

“I understand, there’s no problem. I’m glad that your mom was able to watch your shooting.”

He responded by lightly patting Shuu’s hand on his shoulder. Afterwards, something spilled over and wetted his hakama.

Around that time, Kuon, a first-year from Kirisaki, was stretching his legs on a chair. He was watching the footage of the yabusame competition that took place the other day on his phone.

“Fujiwara-senpai, how beautiful you are. In comparisons, how impudent that commoner is!”

On the screen was Minato answering interview questions. Kuon tossed his phone onto the side chair and grabbed several pages of documents.

This was the report from the detective agency.

“Narumiya Minato, born on December 21. Graduated from Kotonoha Elementary School, graduated from Kirisaki Middle School, has a medical history… What, he has such an obvious weakness? This might be useful.”

Kuon uncrossed his legs and stood up. He called for a maid.

“Give this detective his completion bonus. Also, tell him that there are additional requests. The others are incompetent, so keep them out of my sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the maid left, the corner of Kuon’s mouth raised.

The sound of a flute resounded through Yata Shrine.

Gagaku music was being performed to the members of the Kazemai kyudo club, who were gathered in the front shrine. Minato and the others, sitting in seiza, waited impatiently for the moment when the performance would begin.

Gagaku was a form of Japanese classical music, and was a unique art that combines traditional Japanese music and dance with music introduced from the continent. It boasted a history of more than 1,200 years, and many people might have heard it at hatsumode or Shinto wedding ceremonies.

The performers were Masa-san, Ren, and Masa-san’s mother. Masa-san’s mother was in charge of the main melody and played the hichiriki, Masa-san played the shou, and Ren played the ryuuteki. (2) They were all made from bamboo. The hichiriki, shou, and ryuuteki were called the “three pipes,” and the taiko, kakko, and shouko were called the “three drums.” The wagon and biwa were also included at times.

The shou represented the sound of heaven, the light that shined from heaven. The ryuuteki was the sound of the sky, the cry of a dragon that rushed between heaven and earth freely. The hichiriki was said to express the sounds of the earth and the voices of the people, and it was believed that by playing these instruments together, it was possible to create the universe.

“I’ve heard that Western music adopts the rhythm of the heartbeat, and Japanese classical music adopts the rhythm of breathing,” Keyaki whispered to Kanbayashi.

“It’s truly elegant music. It sounds like the divine voice of heaven, or the voice of the sobbing dead.”

Ryouhei and Nanao also joined the conversation.

“It’s not the dead, it’s a cute dragon. Pyuu, hyororororo.”

“That’s the sound of a water whistle. Isn’t it more like fuaan, kyuu, bobobobobobo?”

A shadow descended over Kaito’s face.

“You guys talk too much. Shut up and listen.”

The three girls decided not to listen to the boys’ innocent conversations.

After the performance was finished, Minato ran to the performers.

“Masa-san, may I ask you a question?”

“Is it about the priesthood stuff from the other day?”

“No, that’s not it. A long time ago, I read an explanation book on the ‘Heart Sutra’ after Saionji-sensei told me that I didn’t study hard enough, but there’s a part that I was confused about.”

In Buddhism, there were the “six sense organs,” the “six objective fields of the senses,” and the “six consciousnesses.” All together, they were called the “eighteen components of perception.”

The “six sense organs” were the sense organs humans were equipped with—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.

The “six objective fields of the senses” were the objects of perception—color, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental presentation.

The “six consciousnesses” were the perception that arose from the six sense organs perceiving the six objective fields of the senses—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, and reasoning.

“The Buddha gave words to the materials and phenomena of this world, classifying them in detail. He also taught that we should abandon our obsessions. But the Heart Sutra says that the organ called the ‘eye’ perceived ‘color’ and perceived it as ‘beautiful.’ So, it’s saying that all of this is just an illusion, right?”

“Yeah, that’s probably the most common interpretation.”

“I also found it strange that the sixth of the six sense organs was translated as ‘mind.’ The others are names of parts of the body, so why is the sixth one different?”

“I can’t answer that right away due to my lack of study, but I think that what the Heart Sutra was trying to convey wasn’t so much the first half, the empty mind, but the second half. If I were the writer, I would put the important points in the conclusion.”

“The ending is an incantation, right? ‘Let’s all chant it together,’ like that. I thought the theme of the Heart Sutra was to learn the truth and wisdom of the universe, wasn’t it?”

“If you cannot attain enlightenment unless you give up earthly desires, then most people would be unable to reach this state. Because wanting to save people is also greed. Heaven wouldn’t give to man useless things. Kukai taught that the desire for food, sleep, excretion, and sex, are all of the status of a Buddha. If the desire to eat and sleep disappear, the survival of living beings is in danger. The Buddhist teaching to abandon greed means ‘do not covet, do not go too far.’”

Ren, who was listening nearby, laughed lightly.

“Archers have to learn Buddhism too? Sounds busy. Sorry to interrupt, but I think it’s time to call it a night. Masaki, you have another errand to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah, got it. Sorry, Minato, next time.”

Masa-san hurriedly left the scene. The other members were also preparing to go home. Minato realized that he was the only one left behind and was about to follow everyone else.

Suddenly, he felt something like an electric current near his shoulder blade. He turned around and saw Ren with one finger outstretched.

“You’re a sensitive person, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I just put my fingers on your back and sent some qi. Is your sensitivity hereditary? Does it run in your family? Actually, Masaki is also sensitive, even more so than me. He can see and hear all sorts of things. Minato-kun, what is the color of the outside lights of Yata Shrine to you?”

“It’s usually rainbow-colored. I’d say the purple is deeper.”

“To most people, myself included, it only looks white or yellowish. You may be one of those people who don’t realize they have a strong connection to the gods, or in other words, nature. Since both of you are spiritually inclined, you should ask a lot of questions now. That guy may not be back for a while. And I don’t know if he’ll continue coaching at Kazemai.”

“…What?”

“It seems that he found something he couldn’t catch if he didn’t chase it now. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him back.”

“What do you mean, you can’t hold him back?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Ren took off his eboshi hat and put it on Minato’s head, then turned on his heel.

As always, Ren did nothing but tease and didn’t talk about the important parts. To only drop hints and not inform him of anything was too malicious if he was doing this while knowing that it would cause him a lot of stress. It would be fine if it was good news, but that would transform into anger if it was a rejection email.

The sound of the gagaku music lingered in his ears, and the scar on his left side started to itch.

Minato stood there, holding the hat.

One Sunday, Minato was riding his bike.

He was taking a short trip to town to go shopping. He was buying daily necessities for the summer.

The wind caressing his neck felt comfortable. The sky was blue with rising clouds. Flowers were in full bloom in the gardens of the houses he passed, and he saw two cats sleeping snuggled together. A dragonfly was flying parallel to Minato’s speed, but he wondered how far it would follow.

After passing through the crowd, he parked his bike in front of a store. It was a casual clothing store. While looking at the suggestions for coordinated outfits, he proceeded to the department he was here for.

On the way there, someone called out his name.

“Minato?”

“Masa-san.”

“I saw a bike similar to yours in front of the store, but I didn’t think you would really be here. You came all the way here by bike? I thought your house is a long way from here.”

“I also just wanted to ride my bike. There’s a hole in my jeans. Which one do you think is better?”

“Let’s see, you look good in the classic indigo blue, straight-leg style. For the upcoming season, chino shorts would also look good.”

The two looked around the store. They separated for a while and then promised to meet up again at the exit.

Masa-san handed Minato a package.

“If you want, you can take this guy home too. I think it’ll go well with the jeans from earlier.”

“Huh? Oh, t-thanks. Um, actually, I also…”

Minato also held out a gift-wrapped package containing clothes. It was the exact same wrapping, only the color of the ribbon was different. Both people were momentarily speechless.

“We ended up exchanging gifts.”

“Haha, that’s right.”

“Thank you, I’ll try it on as soon as I get home. I’ve also bought some other stuff, so I’ll give them to the other Kazemai members tomorrow. Minato, are you free right now? You can come and pick up the book I was telling you about.”

“Oh, the book that wasn’t for sale.”

Masa-san had come by car, so they loaded Minato’s bike into the car, and Minato sat in the passenger seat. After a while, they arrived at the parking lot of a two-story apartment building. Masa-san’s apartment was a one-bedroom apartment, and it was built not long ago. When Minato first visited, he imagined that Masa-san was living in a four-and-a-half tatami room that was built over thirty years ago. “What kind of image do you have of me?” Masa-san had lamented. There were ornamental plants by the window, Scandinavian-patterned cushions on the couch, and a Shinto altar enshrined on the wall, as expected of a priest. Everything was neat and tidy, but Minato noticed a prescription bag in the corner of the kitchen. What was more, there was something sitting there that didn’t fit the season at all.

“Masa-san, the kotatsu…shouldn’t you be putting that away soon?”

“I was too lazy to clean the kotatsu futon, so I just left it there.”

Masa-san opened the closet and took out three cardboard boxes. He spread his arms out towards them, which looked heavy.

“Search to your heart’s content.”

“Were you tired of searching? Is that why you called me here? That’s what I thought. You’re so lazy.”

He found the book he was looking for when the box was almost empty. After putting it on the table, Minato and Masa-san sat down at the kotatsu facing each other. Their feet were touching, and they both laughed.

Minato was searching for a book titled The Archery Saint Awa Kenzou—The Representative of Heaven, Earth, and Nature by Sakurai Yasunosuke. It was published to commemorate the 120th anniversary of Awa Kenzou’s birth, so it was thick and heavy.

Masa-san slid his long fingertips over the cover, as though caressing something dear.

“Awa-hanshi’s words are difficult to understand unless you have a background in Buddhism, Shinto, or Confucianism, but this book explains the ‘path of shooting’ in detail. Beyond a hundred shots and hundred hits, there are the ‘one shot and expire’ and ‘shari misei.’ Shari misei refers to the inherent manifestation of someone’s inherent Buddha nature or divinity through archery. It involves letting go of negative emotions such as worry and anger, and it emphasizes dantian breathing. He even said that ‘Takamagahara is inside people’s stomachs.’” (3)

“Saionji-sensei told me once to listen to the voice in my stomach, not head. ‘One shot and expire’ is the teaching of ‘you died with a single shot. Now, become a newborn baby.’ So, I wonder if shari misei is growing even further from a baby.”

“In fact, the hundred shot-hundred hit level is the lowest of the five stages called ‘shakai,’ and it’s still at the entry level of ‘learning shooting.’ However, Awa-hanshi says that even if you don’t hit a hundred shots, you can still reach the realm of one shot and expire and shari misei. He also taught kyudo at high schools, and it’s said that he loved young people very much. When his disciples shoot with all their might, he would embrace them and cry with joy.”

“I’ll take my time to read it. …Um, Masa-san, Ren-san said something recently…”

“Did he say something again?”

“Um, something about your eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes are fine. Because I’m living in a place surrounded by so much greenery.”

“That’s right. I also grew up in the mountains.”

It was weird to forcefully ask someone about something they were keeping secret. Nothing was clear yet, so he was sure Masa-san would tell him if it was true.

Minato was about to return the book to where it was before and found another book at the bottom of the box. It was as though it was hidden away. He picked it up.

“There’s a name on this picture book. Maybe it got mixed up with someone else’s book? How do you read this?”

Minato was pointing at a name written in oil-based marker.

It read 玉守正樹.

“It’s ‘Tamamori Masaki.’ My old name.”

“Is it your old last name?”

“I changed it along with my first name. For me, my old name is a cursed name. I don’t really want to remember it.”

Masa-san had a bitter look on his face, which was unlike him.

Just like Ren the other day, these brothers had too many secrets. Minato didn’t care if he didn’t tell him the reason. But, it was too sad that he hated his own name.

“No, it isn’t, right? Iminas were used until the Meiji era, and they were important things that only the lord and his family knew about. The only time someone would tell it to another person is when they are proposing marriage.”*

“…Huh, that’s bad. Seiya would beat me up if he finds out about this. So, can I hear your answer?”

“Answer?”

“Your answer to my proposal.”

“Huh? I-I don’t get that kind of thing.”

“That kind of thing, huh…”

“I’ve never thought about that kind of thing.”

“You’re calling it ‘that kind of thing’ again.”

“You’re a terrible master.”

“Minato, you’re a surprising Urashima’s casket. I can’t even imagine what’s inside you.”

Masa-san chuckled. Apparently, Minato was being made fun of. Ugh, I seriously can’t win against this guy.

Minato stood up.

“I have to go home soon.”

“Shall I give you a ride?”

“It’s okay.”

When he pushed the doorknob, a gray sky spread out before him.

“Oh, it’s raining. I didn’t bring my raincoat today.”

“A rain that’s trying to prevent you from leaving, huh? Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Minato closed the door.

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