Chapter 223: Nagi (凪)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 223: Nagi (凪)
This was already the second time today I’d fought Fuma-senpai’s father, Fuma Kotaro.
In our first fight, there had been too many eyes on us, and I hadn’t been able to fight properly in the heat of the moment. But this time was different.
“Hup!”
With a powerful stomp, I used Oikaze to close the distance in an instant.
The impact kicked up a thick cloud of sand, but it wasn't enough to disrupt Fuma Kotaro's senses. He easily blocked my attack.
It was Hayate’s First Form, Kamaitachi, delivered as a Penetrating Hand.
My straightened palm, coated in a thinly honed layer of ki, could be used much like a sword.
Fuma Kotaro countered with a Kamaitachi of his own before swiftly kicking up with his right foot.
Fwit!
A thin, straight line was carved into my hardened body, which was normally resistant to most attacks.
“What the—”
As I faltered in surprise, Fuma Kotaro said with a smirk, “Surely you didn’t think you could only coat your hands in ki?”
With that, he wiggled the toes of his retracted right foot before unleashing a flurry of kicks that were too fast to see.
“Kuh!”
If my primary weapon was the hand-blade, his was the foot-blade.
And it was only natural that legs had a longer reach than arms.
Forced onto the defensive in an instant, I hardened my guard, enveloping my body in a much larger amount of ki than usual to prevent any more bleeding.
Seeing that his foot-blade was no longer effective, Fuma Kotaro stopped his assault and asked me, “Are you naturally durable by constitution?”
I lowered the cross guard I had held up in front of my face and answered, “They say the characteristic of my ki is Indestructibility.”
“I see.”
Fuma Kotaro nodded as if he understood, then said something terrifying with a nonchalant expression.
“Then I suppose I don’t have to hold back anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
Before I could even ask what he meant, he lunged at me.
“Let’s see if you can block this.”
A fierce whirlwind began to rage around both of his forearms.
I knew this technique.
Hayate Sixth Form: Tsujikaze (Whirlwind)
It was a technique that used tornadoes wrapped around the arms like gauntlets to strike the opponent.
But this was slightly different from the version I knew.
The two whirlwinds on his arms, which should have been spinning in the same direction, were rotating in opposite directions, creating immense turbulence.
It looked like a drill or a blender. I hastily tried to use the counter-technique, Tatsumaki.
“Too late.”
But as if mocking me, Fuma Kotaro threw a punch a step ahead of me, slamming a powerful fist into my abdomen.
KWAAAAAA!!
“Keoheuk!!”
My vision spun.
That wasn't a metaphor; my body was literally sent flying backward, spinning like a windmill.
A wave of extreme motion sickness washed over me, but it was soon replaced by the shock and pain that even my vast amount of yang energy couldn't fully block, turning my mind completely white.
If this hadn't been a sand-filled playground, the attack would have surely caused severe head trauma. The thought snapped me back to my senses.
I had never felt such intense pain, not even when I fought Ivan, the man they called the world’s strongest.
It felt like my internal organs were being twisted into knots.
“Heok, heok, heok, heok.”
As I sat collapsed in the sand, supporting myself with one hand and gasping for breath, Fuma Kotaro slowly walked over to me.
“Kim Yoo-Sung, you are certainly strong right now. But you’ve learned a little bit of everything, and in your current half-baked state, you’re actually weaker than if you had learned nothing at all.”
I understood what he meant.
It was true. Until now, I had dug many shallow wells.
The deepest I had dug into any of them was Hayate, and even that I had only been learning for a mere three months.
In contrast, Fuma Kotaro had been honing Hayate for decades, at the very least.
“What’s the use of learning this and that to get stronger when you can’t even master one thing properly?”
“……”
It felt like I’d been struck hard on the back of the head.
No one had ever said anything like that to me before.
“Then what should I do?”
His answer to my question was simple.
“Empty your mind.”
“…?”
As I stared at him with a questioning gaze, Fuma Kotaro tapped his chest with his fist.
“Miyamoto Musashi, the founder of Echeonilryu, said in The Book of Five Rings that at the end of all fighting techniques lies the ultimate state called the Void (空).”
This was the same concept as the Clear Mirror spoken of by Confucius or the Immovable Mind spoken of by Mencius—a state where one can find the optimal path to victory without being flustered by any situation.
“While pondering how to integrate Hayate and Jinrai, I naturally reached this state. I named this wondrous technique Nagi (凪).”
The word nagi (凪) means a complete lull in the wind.
In other words, windless (無風).
It was an ironic name for the final destination of a martial art that mimicked the wind.
“Too many cooks spoil the broth. Knowing too much can sometimes be a poison. What you need right now is to shed the unnecessary.”
“…Honestly, that’s difficult to understand right away. It’s a very abstract concept.”
“Even for me, who has practiced only Hayate my entire life, this is an understanding I gained only after thirty years, when I threw everything away and returned to the beginning. Of course, it would be difficult for a high school student like you to comprehend. So don’t try to understand it. Feel it with your body. Wind dwells in all things. The state of Nagi I speak of begins with feeling the flow of the wind.”
Frankly, it sounded vague and abstract, but I had a rough idea of what he was trying to say.
Our fight just now.
Fuma Kotaro had read my every move, from start to finish, as I came at him with all my might.
It was as if he could predict the future.
With a skill like that, it was no wonder even someone as strong as Ivan would have been helpless against him.
‘Empty your mind, huh.’
It was definitely not going to be as easy as it sounded.
“Well then, if you’re done resting, get up.”
“Excuse me? Isn’t it over?”
Confused, I instinctively lifted my head, and Fuma Kotaro kindly corrected my misunderstanding.
“What nonsense are you spouting? We’re just getting started.”
“……”
That day, instead of learning to empty my mind, I learned the true meaning of getting beaten to a pulp.
*
The next day.
“Yoo-Sung, what happened to you after we parted ways yesterday?!”
That was the first thing Satoru said, shocked, as soon as I got to school.
It was because my face was swollen in several places, and I had bandages on my cuts.
“Something came up.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say I got beaten up by the father of a senpai I knew, so I brushed it off vaguely, recalling the fuss with the President last night.
‘Wh-who did this to Yoo-Sung’s handsome face?!’
‘Tell me right now! I’ll march over there and protest immediately!’
‘It was Fuma Kotaro.’
‘…Is that the same Fuma Kotaro from the Seven Fist Masters that I know?’
‘Yes, the very same.’
‘…I’ll just put him on the blacklist for now.’
Fortunately, the President understood after I explained the circumstances of my involvement with him. She said she would ask Fuma-senpai, who was in the same class, for the full story instead.
I’d told my parents the injuries were from sparring with a professional athlete at the gym director’s request.
I had come home with injuries like this many times before.
In any case, Satoru couldn’t dig up any information since I, the person in question, kept my mouth shut. The same went for Rika and the other kids who came into the classroom later.
Actually, looking at her now, it seemed Rika thought my injuries were from the fight with Fuma Kotaro when he ambushed me on the street last night.
Well, no need to correct the misunderstanding.
It was half-true, anyway.
Perhaps because midterms had just ended, the teachers didn’t make the lessons too demanding, and the morning classes passed without incident.
I was about to have lunch with the others as usual, but an unexpected visitor prevented me from doing so.
“Kim Yoo-Sung, could you spare a moment?”
“Fuma-senpai?”
It was one thing outside of school, but Fuma-senpai, with whom I was practically a stranger on campus, had suddenly come all the way to our classroom.
Naturally, our class was in an uproar. Satoru was particularly mortified.
“Argh! Kim Yoo-Sung, you fiend! As if having Nao-chan and the President, two of the school’s three great beauties, wasn’t enough, you now extend your evil clutches to the last remaining one, Fuma-senpai!”
…What is this guy even saying?
“Kyaaa! Unni!”
“Why is Fuma-senpai with a guy like Kim Yoo-Sung!”
Voices erupted from all over.
Just as Satoru claimed, Fuma-senpai was renowned as one of the school’s three great beauties and had a thick fanbase even among the second-years, with whom she had almost no contact.
I asked Fuma-senpai, who was standing at the back door of the classroom, “Will this take long?”
Fuma-senpai thought for a moment, then shook her head.
“It should only take about ten minutes.”
“You heard her. I’ll be right back. Go ahead and eat without me.”
After apologizing to the Forest School members I was supposed to eat with, I followed Fuma-senpai to the school rooftop.