The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master

The same place as that day, the same hall.

A suffocating heat, though perhaps a little less scorching than back then.

In this bare room, where the only thing to look at were murals, lay Ryozo, a girl of barely sixteen. The hem of her archery uniform rose and fell gently.

She wasn’t asleep. The lessons Kojima subjected her to under his gaze were too harsh for her young body. That’s why Ryozo sought out this corner, far from the eyes of the servants, to catch her breath.

“…It’s exhausting…”

How much longer would she have to live like this?

Would anything change upon entering Joaquin Academy?

No, not much would change. That man Kojima didn’t know moderation. At the Academy, he’d pressure her with grades, harass her relentlessly.

She lived intensely. In and out of training.

It had already been ten years since she’d been reduced to a mere tool, destined to satisfy Kojima’s boundless ambitions.

— I expect great things from you, Ryozo.

Ha, what a joke.

He said he expected things, but in the end, it was nothing more than a stand-in for Kojima’s personal ambition.

‘Better if he said nothing at all.’

Because of that, among those who bore the Saki surname, Ryozo had been marked.

Her overwhelming presence meant her half-siblings were left outside Kojima’s gaze.

At an age where it was normal to crave a parent’s attention, her half-siblings could only see Ryozo as Kojima’s favorite and, bluntly put, as “that spoiled brat who lives off her own merits.”

But at sixteen, Ryozo saw it as nothing more than the tantrums of the useless. She neither had the disposition to worry about those envious looks nor the topics of conversation to connect with such dull minds.

The only inconvenience was that in that massive mansion, she had few places where she was welcome. Wherever she went, she had to endure the hostile stares of her half-siblings.

That’s why there was this tatami room. No one came, because it had nothing. One open wall let in a view of the urban landscape, but in that house, no one sought romance.

They preferred to spend their time dissecting every weakness of Ryozo—their unspoken common enemy.

‘My mental state must be like this room.’

Decorated only with others’ paintings, but offering not the slightest comfort. A barren, empty existence.

After a few minutes lying there, a shadow fell over her.

Ryozo kept her eyes closed, but from the footsteps, the presence, and the breathing, she identified the owner of that shadow.

“Move. I want to feel the sun.”

“Haha. And you talk to your older brother like that, as if I were anyone?”

“You’re not even my blood brother, and you’re still pretending to be…?”

“Don’t be so harsh. At least I, Ryozo, am someone who can understand you a little.”

“…”

Since she didn’t respond, Saki Haruto let himself fall down at a distance. He laced his fingers behind his head and lay back, staring at the sky.

Ryozo glanced at him sideways.

‘Hands hidden behind the neck…’

That meant he had drawn his bow until his fingers swelled like sausages.

‘So unnecessarily dedicated…’

Ryozo was all-terrain. She excelled in both strategy and archery.

She was the prodigy of the Saki family, Kojima’s pride.

Haruto didn’t reach that level.

Even so, Kojima still reserved a part of his expectations for him. Not strong intellectually, but psychologically. He had a special sharpness for seeing into people. It was probably a Blessing of that sort.

‘The others don’t understand why Kojima expects anything from Haruto.’

And so, they fell out of his interest.

When dealing with him, Ryozo activated a “stealth mode”—a defense to conceal her inner thoughts as much as possible.

‘If only he took advantage of that…’

Unfortunately, Haruto was mediocre with the bow. He was even below average among the half-siblings.

A ridiculous paradox—he could read others’ minds well but didn’t know how to hone himself.

Ryozo looked away in disdain and turned her gaze back to the sky.

Buzz— buzz— buzz—

The cicadas’ song pierced the clouds. In the middle of that uncomfortable silence, Haruto spoke up.

“Did you know? Sharks establish sibling hierarchy while still in the womb.”

“If you’re going to spout nonsense, leave. Don’t bother someone who wants to rest.”

“Just listen. The one who grows faster eats the smaller one.”

Ryozo let out a dry laugh.

“Exactly like this damn family.”

“We’re not the same.”

Haruto shook his head.

“At least we’re born and compete from the same starting line. Father may be harsh, but in that, he’s strangely fair.”

“That’s not justice—it’s pitting us against each other to fuel some stupid sense of rivalry.”

“Maybe~.”

Haruto snorted through his nose.

Ryozo’s eyes sharpened.

“…You know why that man treats us this way, don’t you?”

“How would I know Father’s grand design? I only know it’s not just about making us better.”

“Slippery…”

“In the end, you and I are competitors. It wouldn’t be fair play to tell you everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Not for a second do I consider you a competitor.

“What a pity.”

Haruto clicked his tongue.

“What?”

“It’s just… if we’re going to hate each other as siblings, better not put everyone on the same starting line. Giving them the same purpose is just torture disguised as hope. That’s why you and I end up hiding here.”

“I didn’t hide. It’s quiet here, and I like it.”

Ryozo sat up abruptly. Haruto remained lying down, staring only at the sky.

A chill.

Seeing those eyes, Ryozo felt an inexplicable cold. They were like empty bowls, soulless.

As if trying to convince himself—or maybe Ryozo—Haruto murmured lifelessly.

“If we hadn’t started from the same line, maybe they wouldn’t have even hated us.”

“You…”

“Huh? Ack!”

Ryozo punched him in the stomach. Haruto coughed and rolled on the floor.

“Instead of wasting time on nonsense, draw your bow more. You didn’t even get into Joaquin Academy, and you’re the one who fell out of that man’s favor!”

“I’ve got nothing to do there! In the end, it’s just a place to find a partner… Ah! Now that I think about it, you’re enrolling soon. Congratulations.”

“There’s nothing to congratulate.”

“Hahaha.”

Haruto ruffled her hair. Though she pushed him away coldly, his radiant smile didn’t fade.

“When you get a boyfriend, introduce him to me. Even if I have to eat dirt, I want to see what kind of man you choose.”

“Boyfriend? What nonsense.”

Was he serious?

‘Me, fall in love?’

To Ryozo, that was a ridiculous sentiment. Love was just a hormonal whim dressed in a tender word.

‘Idiots, screaming as soon as they see a guy.’

Her inner wall was too high to be trapped in a social mold.

“You never know what might happen.”

Haruto always spoke in riddles.

“Maybe later, both you and I will be different.”

That was also true for the present.

***

“Go-eun, Go-eun, ¿eh?”

Haruto repeated the name with a smile on his face.

“I heard you’d changed it, but I didn’t know to what. It’s a beautiful name. Ah, now that I think about it, it’s the same as the new capital of Korea.”

His gaze fell on me, and with a long-overdue greeting, he said,

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Heavenly Sword.”

“Ah… yes.”

“I should’ve visited you on your wedding day, but family matters were a mess. Around that time, I had to sort out a bunch of pending issues. I’ll take this moment to both congratulate you and apologize.”

“No problem. It was something intimate, just among companions. Don’t worry about it.”

“As expected. You’re a great person.”

What did he mean by “as expected”?

It sounded as if he knew me well.

‘This is strange.’

Saki Haruto.

His presence was odd—similar to, yet different from, Kojima’s.

If Kojima dissected his opponent with that characteristic sharp gaze, this man seemed to wear several masks layered over one another. Politicians like that abound, but Haruto’s disguise was especially thick. Even knowing he had reduced his half-siblings to the status of servants, he still gave off a sense of harmlessness.

People often compare personalities to animals. It’s intuitive.

Ryozo is like a fox.

Abel, a big dog.

Rachel, a wild horse.

Chloe, a cat.

And this man?

A marine predator, with smooth and shiny skin, that seems harmless as long as it doesn’t bare its teeth—but the moment it smells blood, it shows them without hesitation.

A shark.

‘Maybe it’s because we went to the sea recently? This whole space reminds me of the depths.’

Behind Haruto, it almost seemed like the illusion of a fin and a tail swayed.

Maybe that’s why the air felt salty.

“Let’s stop the personal chatter here.”

Ryozo stepped in coldly.

“There was no need to insist on offering us lodging. Still, thank you for the invitation under that diplomatic pretense.”

“…Haha. You say that because I used our half-siblings as servants?”

“Unnecessary comment.”

“I’m just clarifying to avoid misunderstandings—I didn’t do it out of revenge toward Father, Ryozo.”

“Shin Go-eun.”

Haruto’s smile faded a little.

“…Alright, Go-eun.”

He finally sighed.

“At the very least, I don’t want the younger generations of the Saki family to go through what we did. Don’t you remember? Half-siblings consumed by envy, by jealousy—relationships so broken they couldn’t be mended. Do you know why it happened?”

Haruto clearly pronounced the word.

“Because of hope. That useless hope that if they showed talent, anyone could lead the family. That hope is what made them bite and destroy each other. You were always in Korea, Go-eun, but here it was hell.”

“So you lowered all the half-siblings so they wouldn’t even have hope?”

Ryozo replied with anger.

Haruto nodded.

“They call it hope… but it’s torture. You, me, even Mr. Heavenly Sword—we all know, in this world, a life’s fate is decided by how much one receives from the heavens.”

“Your argument is to castrate the human soul, Mr. Haruto.”

“I didn’t want to use such a harsh term, but it fits.”

“…I knew you’d change, but not that you’d end up this corrupted.”

Ryozo spat her words with disgust.

“We’re heroes. Our duty is to sow hope in people. And you want to cut the root of hope within your own family?”

“That’s idealism. The world doesn’t work in ideals.”

“Ha.”

Ryozo let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I just grew in a different direction.”

“I’m almost starting to prefer that man, Kojima.”

“…”

A vein bulged on Haruto’s temple. His previously soft eyes twisted.

“What a surprise. That you’d say something like that, Ryozo.”

Then he looked at me.

“She must’ve chosen the wrong boyfriend… oh, sorry, that slipped out, Mr. Heavenly Sword.”

“…”

“But my sister has changed a lot. She wasn’t like this before. It’s like she’s hypnotized. Even Prime Minister Hina’s been acting the same lately. It’s like everyone’s trying to buy tickets to make a mistake…”

“A mistake, you say?”

Behind Haruto appeared the shadow of a shark, its teeth gleaming.

He was considering me an enemy. Very well.

Rumble.

Tremor.

Rumble, rumble—

A rumble.

Rumble, rumble, rumble—

The tatami floor vibrated like a pot lid, until the entire earth began to shake violently.

Haruto remained impassive. To him, in Japan, earthquakes were a common thing, ingrained in his instincts.

However—

“I was wrong.”

When I added those words, his confident expression darkened.

He understood that this earthquake—

“…Was because I got too worked up.”

—wasn’t a natural disaster.