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554 – Crimson Lotus Arrow
🕑 Added 2025-09-29 16:29:26 +0000 UTCThe Next Morning
Although Kyousuke still had plenty of matters waiting for him to handle, as the top student of his grade he knew well that a student’s real duty was attending school.
So, without hesitation, he left the bustling world outside behind and decided to head to class.
“Wow~ Kyousuke, you’ve really grown up,” Hojou Mikiko chuckled softly from the entryway steps. “I still remember when you were little, you used to say your dream was living a life of freedom—skipping school and work whenever you felt like it.”
“Actually, skipping class isn’t as easy as it sounds,” Kyousuke replied with a smile while slipping on his shoes. “Sometimes you skip so much that you actually want to go to class.”
In truth, his current school was simply interesting.
Both classmates and teachers were people who, until last night, had been under the same roof as him.
It almost felt like moving his home into the school. A strange, but refreshing experience.
“You’re still as lazy as ever.” Mikiko smiled, then added, “If you need help, don’t hesitate to order dad around.
Your grandfather has been nagging him to come back and work, but he keeps excusing himself by saying he’s busy helping you.
Honestly, he’s probably forgotten all about his wife and child lately.”
“Dad doesn’t come to Tokyo often, so just let him relax for a while,” Kyousuke said with a laugh.
His father had just been complaining about endless drinking parties, but now he was nowhere to be seen—clearly enjoying himself.
But Kyousuke couldn’t blame him.
Compared to Hokkaido, Tokyo was another world entirely.
Even Sapporo, the prefectural capital, couldn’t compare.
After being stuck in the vast emptiness of the countryside for so long, even the sight of Tokyo’s ceaseless crowds could move a man to tears.
“Onii!”
A sudden shout came from the little girl in Mikiko’s arms—Kasuko.
She clearly didn’t like her mom and big brother leaving her out of the conversation.
Mikiko quickly stepped forward, and Kyousuke leaned down obediently.
‘Pah!’
Two chubby little hands smacked against Kyousuke’s cheeks.
“Do your best at school, Onii!” Kasuko declared with a stern face.
At home, she often saw her grandfather encourage her dad the same way before he’d grab a pitchfork and march off to the cowshed.
“Got it. You be good too, Kasuko,” Kyousuke replied with a warm smile.
“Mm! It’s a promise!”
“Me too, me too! Say it to me too!”
Suddenly, a certain idiot barged in through the doorway, shoving Kyousuke aside and sticking her face forward, demanding a dose of encouragement from the cute little girl.
Unfortunately, her height was lacking.
Even on tiptoes, she couldn’t reach Kasuko, who was perched in her mother’s arms.
But that was fine. Kasuko had her ways!
Making sure her mom had a firm hold on her, the little girl bent forward as far as she could and pia! slapped her tiny hands on the blonde idiot’s cheeks.
Eriri’s eyes curved into crescent moons with delight.
“Do your best at school, Eriri!” Kasuko’s voice was much stricter this time—just like Grandpa’s whenever Dad tried to slack off.
“Ehh~~ why not call me ‘Eriri-neesan’?” Eriri pouted.
“Maybe after you start studying seriously!” Kasuko declared firmly.
“…Fine.” Her anti-school grumbling faded—just a little. “Come on, let’s go already.”
As she turned, Eriri jabbed her elbow into Kyousuke’s side.
Just then Kasuko waved her tiny arms at the group behind.
“Hey, Sakura-neesan, Utaha-neesan… Kasuko hasn’t given you encouragement yet!”
Eriri’s slender brows shot up.
Why was she the only one who had to ask for it, while everyone else got the VIP treatment?
Still, Sakura smiled fondly, leaned in, and let Kasuko hold her face.
The little girl even planted a loud smooch on her cheek.
Hearing “Sakura-neesan,” Eriri’s expression twisted.
Hearing the smooch, Kyousuke’s expression twisted.
Watching Kasuko bless each girl in turn, Eriri suddenly felt like she was witnessing a queen bestowing knighthood…
Finally, with the ritual complete, everyone chorused their “We’re off!” and stepped out the door.
“Mmngh~~”
Huh? What was that sound?
Eriri spun around sharply, eyes narrowing on the boy and girl behind her.
But all she saw was Kyousuke’s puzzled look and Sakura’s mischievous grin.
“What is it?” Yamauchi Sakura asked.
“I thought I heard something weird,” Eriri answered honestly.
“Probably just a fish jumping in the pond.” Sakura giggled.
“…I guess so.” Still doubtful, Eriri allowed herself to be ushered forward.
Behind them, Kyousuke lifted a hand to his cheek.
That was close. Luckily Sakura only ever wore clear lip balm.
It was barely seven when they left, yet the streets were already filled with office workers.
Unlike the carefree students strolling leisurely to school, the salarymen in black suits looked utterly drained.
No surprise—most had probably slept less than five hours.
And they weren’t even the worst off.
Those catching the train now would only reach the office by 8:30.
The truly unfortunate were already chained to their desks, and the bravest warriors… were probably asleep under them.
Spotting Kyousuke in the middle of a group of beautiful girls, looking lazy as ever, the salarymen first cast jealous glances, then sank into deep despair.
‘Ah, my lost youth…’
High schoolers weren’t superhuman.
High school itself was just that precious—a time worth reminiscing about for life.
Even if it meant waking at six for seven hours of daily practice, it was still a golden memory worth raising a glass to.
Arriving at school, Kyousuke didn’t head for the classroom building.
Instead, he, Sakura, and Mitsuha cut across the special building toward the athletic fields behind—where the soccer pitch, baseball diamond, tennis courts, and kendo hall were all located.
Although the skies had cleared early in the morning, heavy rain had poured down at midnight.
The soothing white noise had almost tempted Kyousuke to stay in bed.
But what was soothing to him was less welcome to the sports clubs.
The soccer and baseball fields had turned into muddy swamps.
Kyousuke expected the baseball club to retreat indoors for practice, but as soon as they rounded the special building, he spotted the team already hard at work.
“They’re so dedicated,” Sakura remarked in admiration.
“As their team manager, is it really okay for you to just stand there and admire from a distance?” Kyousuke teased.
“Reporting in! As the team manager, my top priority is ensuring the ace stays happy and healthy! Yamauchi Sakura is fulfilling her duty perfectly right now~” she grinned.
“Fair enough.” The so-called ace, who still couldn’t pitch smoothly, nodded in agreement.
Beside them, Shouko covered her mouth, laughing quietly at their banter.
Ever since Kyousuke had joined the baseball club, she’d taken the time to learn about it—and quickly realized that a manager’s responsibilities were nothing as simple as Sakura made them sound.
The first responsibility of any sports club manager was laundry.
At some schools, it was tradition for first-years to wash their seniors’ uniforms.
If the seniors were kind, they’d hand over a little pocket money.
If not—wash it poorly and you’d end up getting yelled at, maybe even smacked around.
After that came equipment management—mending gloves, patching up balls, keeping everything in order.
Cooking, serving tea and water, and just about every chore you could think of also fell to the manager.
The only job remotely related to actual baseball was keeping stats and scouting the opposition.
That meant watching endless recordings of rival teams’ games, analyzing their ace pitcher’s habits, figuring out what pitches worked for their cleanup hitter and what didn’t, and predicting how they’d react in different situations. Boring, tedious work.
Naturally, Yamauchi Sakura never touched any of that.
Tsuchiya Ryouta wasn’t tired of living just yet.
He brought Sakura in as the team manager and even promised her that if the team made it to Koshien, her name would officially be listed on the roster as a “recorder.”
That was the only way a girl could enter Koshien as part of the team.
Kyousuke noticed some baseball players glancing their way.
He casually raised a hand in greeting, then walked straight toward the kendo club.
His life was destined to be different—if he couldn’t even make time distribution between clubs fair, how could he hope to treat everyone fairly in the real world later?
After all, inequality was the fastest way to spark conflict.
Only he needed to train today, but since everyone at the dorm had gone to bed early yesterday, they all woke up bright and early this morning.
The moment Kyousuke slid open the kendo hall doors, a thunderous shout greeted him.
It had only been a few days, but he realized he’d missed that sound.
Then he slapped himself mentally.
‘Damn it. Am I going deaf already?’
Inside, the club members immediately noticed their “boss.”
Without needing any orders, they lined up at the entrance, stood at attention, bowed, and greeted him in unison.
“Keep training. Once I’m done warming up, we’ll spar in order of the roster,” Kyousuke said with a smile.
At the word spar, the entire club lit up.
Honestly, it had been a few days since they’d been beaten up by their captain.
They were starting to miss it.
Of course, this sweat-drenched, testosterone-filled atmosphere didn’t suit Sakura and Shouko at all.
The two only dropped by to say hi, then slipped away.
There were plenty of other places to pass the time—the badminton club, brass band, gymnastics team, all already deep into morning practice.
A quick walk around would kill time until classes began.
Kyousuke changed into his kendo uniform and started stretching at the edge of the hall.
With training this intense, skipping warm-ups was asking for trouble—even with his inhuman stamina.
Meanwhile, Kisaki Tetta paused his own training, notebook in hand, and began reporting on yesterday’s tasks.
Being Kyousuke’s right-hand man, agent, and manager rolled into one was no easy job.
Midnight street fights, intimidation jobs, managing staff—his list never ended.
Kyousuke had already secured serialization and publication for his novel with the editors, but the details? That was all on Kisaki.
Who would design the cover—let the publisher’s juniors practice on it, or hire professionals? What about the promotional blurbs on the book jacket?
The president, Konno Kenzou, had already agreed to write one, but Kisaki needed to handle the coordination.
Friends in the literary world like Misaki Megaku in Kyoto, Mashiro Masashi, and Osaka Gou—all had to be contacted too. Each new blurb could mean more readers.
Then there was media outreach, mobilizing online promotion teams, and countless other details.
If not for Kisaki Tetta—the genius strategist with absurd intelligence and unmatched work capacity—Kyousuke would never have enjoyed such a relaxing day yesterday.
While Kyousuke drifted to sleep listening to the soothing rain, Kisaki hadn’t closed his eyes once, and at dawn he’d still shown up at school to organize training.
That’s right—he was also the kendo club’s manager. It wasn’t a role unique to baseball; technically, every club could have one, depending on whether they needed it.
Kisaki had actually planned to take the day off to keep working, but as a true strategist he knew his real duty as a delinquent was assisting his “boss” in managing the crew.
So even though he was dying for some rest, he still showed up to lead the juniors in proper training.
Besides, the weekend was coming up—perfect timing to scatter the boys across Tokyo handing out flyers for Kyousuke’s new work.
“…That’s the current situation,” Kisaki concluded, snapping his notebook shut and adjusting his glasses.
“The publisher wants you to attend a promotional event. The demand to see you in person is strong—if you show up, the number of preorders will probably double.”
‘Huff—'
Kyousuke exhaled deeply as he finished stretching.
Warm-ups could feel like a chore, but nothing compared to the rush of having his body fully awake.
It was like waking up for the fifth time that morning.
The first was opening his eyes in bed.
The second was hearing the girls’ cheerful good mornings.
The third was Kasuko’s heartfelt encouragement.
The fourth was Sakura’s goodbye kiss at the door.
“I got it. I’ll take the afternoon off—you confirm the time with them. Promotional events, signings, that’s all fine. But watch the schedule.
The sports festival’s coming up, then the national kendo tournament, and Koshien preliminaries. Keep all that in mind,” Kyousuke instructed.
Having such a capable subordinate really made life easy. Worth every penny.
“Yes, sir. I’ve noted everything. I’ll also see if there’s a chance to secure some sponsors for both the kendo and baseball teams,” Kisaki said respectfully, arms at his sides.
“Sponsors, huh…” Kyousuke paused, then realized what Kisaki meant.
No sport came cheap.
Daily training and equipment already ate up funds, but competitions were another beast entirely.
Even with the glory of reaching Koshien, there were schools that simply couldn’t afford the trip.
