All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Kisara Tendo glanced at her junior, who looked like she might float away at any moment, and chuckled silently. She wondered if she should pin Kotomi Izumi down again, just to keep her from drifting straight into the clouds.

”Though our match was short, very few people have ever pushed me to go all out. You gave me those daggers in Kyoto, and now you’ve given me an exhilarating duel. Kotomi, how would you like me to thank you?”

Kisara asked with a soft smile.

Kotomi froze for a moment, then sat up excitedly and asked, testing the waters:

”Do you mean… you’re going to give me a reward?”

”Mhm! Of course!” Kisara nodded cheerfully.

”Anything at all?!”

Kotomi hurried to confirm again. She didn’t even know what reward she wanted—she only knew her voice was trembling now, overflowing with excitement.

”O-of course.”

Even Kisara was startled by her junior’s sudden change in tone. Just what kind of reward was she thinking of?

Kotomi’s eyes fell on Kisara—still in her kendo uniform, ponytail tied neatly. She swallowed hard. If she could say it without Kisara getting angry, if she could believe that no matter what she asked, her senpai would accept it, then she would pour out her heart:

Kisara-senpai, please don’t shower yet. Put on thigh-high black stockings, and let me kiss your feet and lick your toes! Please, that would be the best reward for me right now!

Kotomi knew how strange this request sounded. But she just wanted to kiss her senpai’s delicate feet, fresh from training.

If it were Megumi or Mashiro, she wouldn’t have hesitated—they’d already be kissing by now.

But with Kisara… was their relationship even that close yet?

Sure, girls often did intimate things together and called it friendship. Especially in all-girls’ schools, physical closeness was common. Even pranking each other with too much intimacy was often followed by laughter. Sharing a bed at night wasn’t unusual either.

But Kotomi’s request went way beyond any of that.

As a side note, it was lucky she hadn’t gone to an all-girls’ school. Otherwise, she would’ve been eaten alive for sure.

Not the wolf among sheep—but the lamb among wolves. After all, how could Kotomi, who thought of herself as the ”attacker,” ever really be the wolf?

She would’ve been a soft little lamb, perfect prey. Worse, she was a lamb who knew how to flirt.

Kotomi was fully aware of how strange her desired reward was.

She truly feared that if she spoke it aloud, Kisara would instantly draw the katana from the rack and unleash the kesa-giri she hadn’t gotten to use fully in their duel.

”…I haven’t thought of a reward yet. Let’s just say, Kisara-senpai, that you owe me one.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Kotomi settled for this.

”Alright,” Kisara agreed without a second thought.

She must think I meant a normal girl’s kind of reward… That’s why she accepted so quickly… Kotomi thought, feeling a pang of disappointment. The one reward she truly wanted could only be given by the person right in front of her. Yet it felt impossible to speak it aloud. And that feeling was awful.

Suddenly, she remembered she had once promised Aimi a reward after her entrance exams.

At the time, Aimi hadn’t said what she wanted either—just that she’d think about it.

Now, slipping her current feelings into Aimi’s place, Kotomi shivered. Could it be that Aimi also wanted some strange, outrageous request as her reward?

…Surely not?

Her dear little sister Aimi was so obedient, only ever caring about her older sister.

After resting on the wooden floor for a while, Kotomi followed Kisara Tendo into the locker room to shower and change. The girls’ locker room had a bath area deeper inside, which Kotomi hadn’t noticed before when she came here.

Looks like I really don’t know the layout of the kendo club’s locker room well enough. I should come check it out more often in the future, Kotomi joked to herself in her mind.

Of course, there was no large bath in here. Being the kendo club’s bath area, it was just a set of efficient showers.

Stripped bare under the hot spray, Kotomi suddenly realized a problem: she hadn’t brought any shampoo, body wash, or even a bath sponge!

Not surprising—she had never planned to bathe in the kendo club’s locker room while at school.

”Kotomi, here,” Kisara said. Having lathered shampoo into her own hair, she habitually squinted her eyes while bathing and handed the bottle to Kotomi.

”Thanks.”

Kotomi didn’t refuse. Though the duel had been short, it had drained an enormous amount of stamina.

She had only noticed while changing that her borrowed kendo uniform had been completely soaked through with sweat.

Kisara told her not to worry. The uniform Kotomi had worn was just a spare, usually kept in the club’s wardrobe. It was occasionally washed, dried, and then stored away again.

The kendo club’s locker room had a washing machine. After training, uniforms could be tossed in directly, and the machine would run through washing, spin-drying, and drying all in one go.

It only took about twenty minutes.

Kotomi hadn’t trained in kendo since childhood. Aside from her monstrous reflexes, predictions, and the powerful techniques she’d picked up, her knowledge of kendo itself was nothing but that of a dabbler.

In terms of strength, she could fight Kisara Tendo—the Sword Demon, heir to a fully licensed school—to a near standstill. But in terms of understanding and insight, she probably knew less than a beginner who’d studied kendo seriously for just a few months.

Naturally, she had no idea how to properly control her stamina in training.

She relied entirely on her Queen of All Females physique, with its bottomless energy and overall buffs. When swinging her sword, she always used as much force as she could.

If Kisara hadn’t been a Sword Demon, any ordinary opponent trying to block Kotomi’s bamboo sword would have been sent flying by the sheer force behind it.

Her speed was the same—always as fast as possible.

After all, in a true clash, Kotomi knew she couldn’t possibly match Kisara. Kisara’s reflexes, built from a lifetime of kendo, were muscle memory. Kotomi could only rely on speed, trying to create openings.

But even when she found one, as when she used Gatotsu in midair instead of a downward slash, Kisara’s hesitation was only a heartbeat. Almost instantly, she adapted—dropping her bamboo sword, bending back to evade, and countering with the sheathed dagger to pin Kotomi and claim victory.

This had been Kotomi’s first real test of her kendo level. And it made her realize she was still lacking. She could probably place well in the Six Schools Tournament, but if her opponent was someone on Kisara’s level… she might win, but it would be a bitter fight.

Worried about facing someone too strong, Kotomi began to consider maxing out her kendo level.

There had once been a girl who feared pain, so she maxed out her defense.

Kotomi also feared pain, also feared strong opponents. But she had no intention of maxing defense.

Mainly because her system panel didn’t have a defense stat. If it did, she would’ve raised that to MAX before writing or drawing levels.

Just imagine—if she’d had massive defense back then, would she have ever feared Megumi stabbing her with that knife?

Since there was no defense stat, Kotomi wondered if she should just max her kendo level instead.

If she could cut down her opponent before they even made a move, then she’d never need to worry about being hurt!

Laying out this logic, Kotomi couldn’t help but feel like a genius.

”Kisara-senpai.”

”Mm?”

Kisara Tendo was rinsing the shampoo foam from her hair under the hot spray when she heard Kotomi calling her. She leaned closer—between the sound of the two showers, it was hard to hear otherwise.

”In the Six Schools Tournament… will there be opponents stronger than you?”

”If I were to fight through every match for Sobu High in the tournament, as long as I don’t run into a few particular people, I should be able to cut my way straight through to the championship.” After rinsing the foam from her hair, Kisara splashed water onto her face as well.

”A few particular people?”

The Seven Warlords of the Sword World?

”Mm. Only a few could actually threaten me.”

”Ohh, I see.”

Kisara heard the tension in Kotomi’s tone when she spoke of opponents. It seemed that even though their duel had been short, Kotomi had understood one thing—talent alone wasn’t enough to take an opponent lightly.

Kisara felt relieved. She had worried Kotomi might grow arrogant because of her gift and underestimate others.

Even a lion hunts a rabbit with full strength. How much more so when facing opponents worthy of the Six Schools Tournament?

Seeing her junior asking so cautiously about her rivals, Kisara couldn’t help but smile. She reached out, ruffling Kotomi’s hair gently as she said with a laugh:

”You don’t need to worry about facing opponents who are too strong. The officials always make special notes about them and do their best to arrange matches between opponents of roughly equal strength.”

Seeing Kotomi’s pensive look, Kisara assumed she was thinking about the matches to come and didn’t disturb her further. Her heart filled with relief and pride.

She hadn’t expected her nominal captain—who had barely shown up to the kendo club before—to start caring about kendo after just one duel, even preparing herself for the Six Schools Tournament.

Kisara couldn’t wait to see what kind of results Kotomi would achieve.

Her family head, her father, would also be watching the tournament as a guest in the audience. For some reason, Kisara especially wanted her parents to see Kotomi’s swordsmanship.

It felt like she wanted them to recognize her.

But Kotomi wasn’t thinking about the tournament at all. Instead, she was imagining—what kind of stance should she use when drawing or sheathing her blade to look the coolest?

Maybe she should walk on stage holding her bamboo sword in one hand and a speaker in the other?

Which songs should she set as BGM for her entrance, for the match, and after her victory? She already had them planned.

Since she was entering a kendo tournament, her coolness had to be maxed out!

Maybe she should get a new hairstyle beforehand?

A white-haired beauty wielding a bamboo sword, every strike like a graceful dance, elegant yet fierce, ending the match in style. Under countless gazes, she would rest her bamboo sword on her shoulder. If she had a scabbard, she’d spin the blade into a dazzling flourish and sheath it, then walk off the stage with a wicked smile.

And then—pick a lucky girl in the crowd and send her a wink. Or maybe… a blown kiss.

The cheers and screams would be deafening!

”Ehehe, ehehehehehehe…”

Just picturing herself dominating the tournament stage, bathed in the admiration of countless girls, Kotomi couldn’t hold back her gleeful giggles.

Kisara stared at her junior in bewilderment. Why was this girl suddenly laughing so strangely? Was it battle spirit welling up?

So hot-blooded!

So fired up!

If Megumi Kato knew what Kotomi was daydreaming, she’d probably be furious enough to spank her little Kotomi’s butt.

After finishing with the shampoo, Kotomi shyly borrowed Kisara’s body wash and bath sponge too.

Holding the bath sponge Kisara Tendo had just used, Kotomi’s small hands trembled as her mind filled with orange-and-pink tinted fantasies.

She instantly wanted to buy another treasure chest and store this sponge inside it, enshrining it like a second holy relic.

While using Kisara’s bath sponge, Kotomi was entirely focused and reverent.

...

After showering and changing, Kotomi stayed behind to help Kisara clean the dojo.

At first glance, the dojo looked huge, and just the main hall alone seemed like it would take forever to clean. But in practice, since only the two of them had used it, the cleaning wasn’t difficult. In less than ten minutes, it was spotless.

”Whew~ Thanks for your help, Kotomi. I’m used to cleaning the dojo by myself, but it always takes a while alone. Without you, I probably would’ve had to skip second period again,” Kisara said gratefully, stretching as they left the dojo.

”Kisara-senpai, aren’t you just using cleaning the dojo as an excuse to skip another class?” Kotomi teased with a sly smile.

”You’re not wrong.” Kisara nodded, fully admitting it.

”If I were still in middle school, I’d probably skip class with you. But now I’m in high school, and I’m Sobu High’s top student, Tokyo’s number one. With great power comes great responsibility. Forgive me, senpai, but I can’t keep skipping with you. Next period, I’ll return to class and study hard.”

Kotomi also wanted to skip another class, but she thought better of it. As the top student in her grade, in Tokyo even, she should set an example and stay in the classroom.

More importantly, she had told Yui and Yukino that she was going to Hiratsuka-sensei’s office to apply for after-school practice. No matter how slow that was, it wouldn’t take two whole periods.

If she really skipped both, she could explain it to the teacher—but how would she explain it to Megumi?

Recalling the flash of that gleaming cleaver, Kotomi desperately wished she had impenetrable defenses.

Better get back to class!

”Listen to you! That makes it sound like I’m just a delinquent who skips class to practice kendo. I’ll have you know, I still manage to place top ten in my class every exam.” Kisara rubbed Kotomi’s cheek, trying to maintain her senior’s dignity.

Bidding farewell to Kisara at the stairs, Kotomi waited for the bell to ring and for the teacher to leave Class 1-F before slipping back inside.

If she returned while the teacher was still there, she’d surely be asked where she’d gone and why she’d been away so long.

Kotomi decided to just dump that problem on Hiratsuka-sensei.

Let Shizuka handle it!

Passing Yui and Yukino’s desks, Kotomi flashed them an ”OK” gesture. They understood at once—she’d successfully applied for after-school practice.

But sitting nearby, Megumi Kato frowned slightly. Earlier during homeroom break, Kotomi had left without a word, dragging Yui and Yukino with her. They had returned, but Kotomi had not. When Megumi asked Yui, she’d said Kotomi had gone to Hiratsuka-sensei’s office.

And she’d been gone an entire period.

Though she knew their relationship was strictly teacher-student, the thought of Kotomi spending an entire class alone in the office with Hiratsuka Shizuka, not knowing what they had talked about or done, made Megumi’s heart twist uncomfortably.

When Kotomi finally returned to her seat, she didn’t ask Megumi to move. Instead, she lightly sat herself right on Megumi’s lap, wrapped her arms around her neck, and pressed her cheek tightly against Megumi’s.

Just like she had embraced Hiratsuka-sensei from behind in the office earlier.

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