All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

The moment Kotomi Izumi gripped the sword’s hilt, the strange sense of being out of place vanished, and her aura surged.

At that instant, she felt as though her entire being had transformed into a sharpened blade—killing intent sealed within its scabbard, waiting to be unleashed in a flash of crimson.

Kotomi could feel the blood in her veins boiling, adrenaline surging through her system, and yet her mind remained terrifyingly calm.

She instinctively glanced outside the window. The passersby on the street, the bustling traffic—all seemed to slow down in her vision. Each moving object was wrapped in a network of black-and-red lines, chaotic at first glance, but actually arranged in precise and deadly order. It felt as though, with a single swing of the sword, she could cut along those lines and bring death even to gods.

Kotomi’s eyes widened slightly. Looking into a nearby mirror, she saw that her once pink eyes were now overlaid with a menacing blue-red hue—eyes that seemed to see the essence of death itself.

”This is...”

”Ohoho~ Did you just unconsciously awaken your kendo level?” Kazumi said with a chuckle inside her mind, audible only to the two of them.

”Kazumi, what’s going on?!”

”Relax, relax~ You just accidentally activated your kendo level. Think of it like a computer program suddenly booting up on its own. Nothing to worry about.

”Those black-and-red lines you see are the fatal weak points of every target in your vision. For example, if someone’s weakness is their arm, those lines will appear right on it.

”By the way, during official kendo tournaments, try not to rely too much on those lines. Even if you’re using a bamboo sword, slashing along those paths will coat the sword with the essence of death. If your opponent dies during a match, that’d be... problematic.”

Kazumi added with a mischievous smile:

”But if you’re dealing with villains, then go ahead—activate your kendo level and slash away along those black lines. Once you’ve taken care of them, just leave the cleanup to me. I might seem unreliable as a system, but dissolving a corpse into thin air and making it vanish like it never existed? That’s my specialty.”

Kotomi nodded. Gaining a self-defense ability like this wasn’t a bad thing. But as she looked at her eyes in the mirror, she couldn’t help but feel conflicted.

Would her eyes change like this every time she activated her kendo level?

If so, anyone who knew her would definitely find it strange.

Especially during official matches—judges might assume she was doping if her eyes suddenly changed color.

Also, Kazumi’s ”specialty”... Why did it sound so terrifying?!

Are you sure you’re just a system?!

”Don’t worry about the eye color thing,” Kazumi reassured. ”It’s like putting in a cosmetic contact lens when your kendo level activates. If you don’t like it, you can swap it out. Don’t you think it looks cool? The way you transform when you grip a sword, those intense eyes... Super stylish, right?”

”Yeah, but it draws way too much attention! Anyone would think something’s off when a person’s eyes suddenly change color!”

Kazumi puffed her cheeks in frustration. To her, this transformation looked super cool, and yet Kotomi wanted to turn it off?

Though a little sulky, she thought it over and realized Kotomi had a point. If an ordinary person saw a pink-eyed girl suddenly change eye color, they wouldn’t think it was cool—they’d probably just be scared.

”...If only you had reincarnated into another world. Then, as your system, I could let you show off all you want,” Kazumi pouted, looking down at her toes and mumbling in a small, aggrieved voice.

”Yeah, thanks for the sentiment,” Kotomi muttered, twitching her lips. She really wanted to yank Kazumi out of her body and give her a proper scolding.

In the end, Kazumi obediently taught Kotomi how to maintain her original eye color while using her kendo level. After listening to the explanation, Kotomi’s first impression of this feature was—like a switch.

A deep inhale would activate the blue-red eyes.

A long exhale would keep them pink.

Even though the eye color change during activation was a bit strange, Kotomi had to admit—it really did look cool when her eyes changed during a moment of heightened tension.

Still, she wouldn’t use it lightly.

If someone familiar with her noticed the change, it’d be troublesome.

Before anyone could notice, Kotomi quickly followed Kazumi’s instructions and switched her eyes back to pink. She weighed the pair of tantō blades in her hands, and could almost feel the weapons—lifeless though they should be—trembling slightly, as if in reverence.

Are these blades... responding to my kendo level? Kotomi wondered.

”Excuse me, may I test these two blades?” she asked the shop owner.

The man looked up and froze. Just a moment ago, this girl had looked completely out of place in a sword shop. But now, with the blades in her hands, she seemed like an entirely different person. A blade herself, exuding rising pressure.

”O-Of course...” he stammered, suppressing his shock as he nodded.

Kotomi reversed her grip and drew both tantō from their scabbards, carving two sharp arcs through the air.

Anyone trained in swordsmanship would have frozen in awe and fear at those sword trails.

These were blades soaked in bloodlust—meant solely for killing.

From the moment they left their scabbards, every movement Kotomi made carried one clear intent: to destroy everything before her, to kill anything within reach of her sword.

The shop owner sucked in a sharp breath, shaken to his core. What style were those sword slashes from?

The incredible impression those two arcs left on him didn’t even register with Kotomi. After a simple test, she felt satisfied. Despite their elegance, the blades weren’t feather-light; they retained a solid heft and satisfying weight when swung.

These were truly good swords.

Kotomi had never liked overly light blades. To her, a weapon with no weight had no impact, no satisfying resistance.

Tendo-senpai had a similar preference when it came to choosing swords. So after testing the two tantō, Kotomi made her decision:

She would buy them as a gift for Tendo-senpai.

When Kotomi brought the two tantō to the counter to ask about the price, the shop owner didn’t hesitate to secretly knock 30% off.

”Originally, these two tantō cost 40,300 yen, but considering how young you are and how impressive your swordsmanship is—truly, the younger generation is formidable! Just pay for one blade. I’ll round it down too. 20,000 yen is fine!”

That wasn’t just 30% off—it was half-price.

Naturally, Kotomi—

Accepted gladly.

The sword shop owner had his own reasons for this. The girl didn’t look like someone who had trained for years in kendo—her delicate hands certainly didn’t suggest that. But the moment she gripped the swords, the entire world seemed to shift.

Was it a coincidence?

When Kotomi grabbed the tantō, all the swords in the store seemed to tremble faintly at once.

Looking back, it was surreal. But for someone who had trained in swordsmanship to the highest level, seeing miracles manifest wouldn’t be all that shocking.

The shop owner had been practicing kendo for nearly fifteen years, in addition to crafting blades. Those who practice the sword naturally show respect to the truly strong.

If the skill difference isn’t too vast, the passionate may draw their sword and issue a challenge.

But if the gap is enormous—so wide it creates despair—then only a fool would challenge someone so far beyond them.

It’s best to simply respect them from afar.

To ignore such a gap and issue a challenge isn’t confidence. It’s delusional arrogance.

Back in the Edo period, that kind of challenge could get you killed.

And the challenger wouldn’t even be acknowledged as a worthy opponent.

Back to the point: Kotomi’s strength inspired not only admiration but also a sense of hopelessness—

The feeling that one could train their whole life and still never reach her level.

So the owner gave her such a steep discount. He didn’t offer them for free because he figured, with her pride as a swordswoman, Kotomi might feel insulted. Like he was looking down on her.

Sometimes a discount is better than a gift.

Seeing the price drop so drastically, Kotomi was overjoyed. She wondered if she had shown even greater strength, would the owner have just handed the blades to her?

Of course, she was just fantasizing. Times were tough. Nobody gives things away for free.

”Excuse me, do you offer shipping services here?”

Kotomi wasn’t about to be foolish enough to carry two real tantō onto the Shinkansen. These weren’t toys—they were real, bladed weapons.

Bringing real swords onto a train? She might as well request a free meal at the police station.

”Yes, but shipping weapons like these takes a few days. We need to process some paperwork. Are you in a hurry?”

”No rush. Please send them to Chiba City when you can.”

”Got it. Just write down the address. If all goes well, they should be out the day after tomorrow.”

Looks like Tendo-senpai will have to wait a few extra days for her gift... Kotomi thought as she filled out the shipping form.

After writing down the address, Kotomi asked the shop owner for a sheet of letter paper and an envelope, then began writing a letter to Kisara Tendo.

This would be her twelfth letter.

The owner, seeing she intended to write, quietly left her alone after setting down the paper and pen, heading back into the storeroom to avoid disturbing her.

Twelfth Letter

”To Kisara Tendo:

As the nominal head of the kendo club, I haven’t shown up for quite a while. Even though I know being a ’nominal’ head means I don’t actually have to do anything and just reap the benefits, I still feel a bit guilty about it.

So now, during this quiet, sleepless night, I sit under the glow of a desk lamp, writing you this letter, hoping it arrives together with the gift I’ve prepared for you.

Let me explain why I’ve been absent lately. Though you may already know, I’ve been participating in the National Youth Art Award hosted by the University of Tokyo. I was lucky enough to be selected for the first exhibit, and I’ve been busy packing. I’m now in Kyoto.

Even so, I feel bad about not going to the kendo club even once during these few days! I’ve been wandering Kyoto’s streets, racking my brain about what kind of gift would best express my apology—and my sincerity.

In the end, I chose a pair of elegant tantō. Don’t be fooled by their small size; they have a nice heft to them—the kind of balance and feedback I like. I wonder if you like the same kind of feel?

If you do, please don’t tell me. Because if you do, I’ll be so happy that I won’t be able to sleep for a whole month—I’ll just keep rolling around on my bed, squealing with joy.

The scenery in Kyoto is truly a feast for the eyes.

No wonder there’s a saying online: ’There’s no bad time to visit Kyoto if you want to enjoy its beauty.’

Unfortunately for me, now isn’t the ideal time.

Why?

Because I can’t get a certain picture out of my head—cherry blossoms drifting through the air, petals landing on a quiet stream, and you and I walking side by side along a path lined with blooming trees.

Now that I’m here in Kyoto, I realize this isn’t the right time.

It’s not spring. There are no cherry blossoms.

You didn’t come with me, and I can’t walk beside you on that imagined sakura path.

I really hope, next time I visit Kyoto, I can come with you~”

After finishing, Kotomi folded the letter, placed it in the envelope, sealed it, and carefully tucked it into the package box.

Leaving the sword shop, Kotomi headed to a sweets shop to buy yatsuhashi for Chizuru Asuka.

She’d had yatsuhashi a few times before and remembered how delicious it was. If Chizuru liked sweets, she would probably love this.

Kotomi chose a beautifully wrapped box, paid for it, then once again asked for a pen, letter paper, and an envelope.

A short while later, her thirteenth letter was done. After filling out the delivery address for the sweets, Kotomi left the shop, skipping happily as she hopped into a taxi and headed back to the hotel.

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