Seiji Fujiwara turned over the crystalline reward in his mind, [Swordsmanship: Divine Mastery].
It was an invisible mark, currently fusing deeply with his soul.
Countless pieces of knowledge, technique, and insight regarding kendo poured into his mind like a surging flood.
From the basics of grip and slash, to the deep mysteries of various schools, all the way to the legendary sword saint's realm, that traceless state like an antelope's horns hanging from a tree...
Every bit of it was understood, absorbed, and mastered in an instant.
"Interesting."
A satisfied curve tugged at the corner of Seiji's mouth.
This kind of power was not merely physical strength, but a transcendence on the spiritual level as well.
Still, theory was only theory.
Even the most perfect knowledge needed practice before it could truly become one's own.
Seiji stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of the study.
Tokyo at night sprawled below him like a luminous beast lying at his feet.
He picked up the internal phone and dialed his secretary's number.
"Compile a list for me of the top kendo masters in all of Japan." His voice was flat but unyielding. "I want to see the full list before tomorrow morning."
"Yes, President." The voice on the other end carried no surprise, no hesitation, only absolute obedience.
Hanging up the phone, Seiji's gaze drifted back across the study.
Ai Hayasaka was still slumped against the desk, motionless, like a delicate doll that had been played with until it broke.
He smiled and walked over.
The night was only just beginning.
...
...
The next morning, sunlight poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the entire room.
Ai woke amid waves of soreness.
She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling.
The memories of the previous night came rushing back like a tide.
The document tossed aside, the phone call that had plunged her into an icy cavern, and the storm that had ground every last shred of her dignity into dust...
Her body trembled uncontrollably.
Humiliation, rage, refusal to accept it... emotions surged in her chest, only to dissolve in the end into a numb, deathly stillness.
She slowly sat up, finding herself on a soft, large bed.
The white dress she had been wearing was nowhere to be seen, replaced now by a silk nightgown.
On the low stool beside the bed, a brand-new set of clothing was folded. It was the Shuchiin Academy uniform she had arrived in yesterday, washed and pressed, smooth without a single wrinkle.
She put on the uniform in silence, every motion stiff and unnatural.
Just then, the bedroom door opened.
Seiji walked in.
He had changed into casual wear, looking refreshed, a lazy smile on his face.
Seeing Ai already fully dressed, he raised an eyebrow.
"You're awake?"
Ai's body tensed instinctively.
She lifted her head, and those ice-blue eyes were filled with caution and a suppressed flicker of resentment.
But she didn't say a word.
She knew that any verbal resistance would be meaningless now.
As if seeing right through her, Seiji chuckled and walked up to her.
"What? Not convinced?" His voice was gentle, but his eyes carried an inescapable pressure. "Or are you saying last night's 'exchange' wasn't deep enough?"
Ai's pupils contracted sharply.
The humiliating scenes of the previous night surfaced once again in her mind.
Her body shook faintly with fear.
But her years of elite training forced Ai to compose herself.
She knew this man was a devil.
When dealing with a devil, meeting force with force was the most foolish choice.
So the resentment in her eyes slowly faded, replaced by a pitiful, fragile softness.
The rims of Ai's eyes turned slightly red, and her voice took on a hoarse, aggrieved note pitched perfectly.
"Mr. Fujiwara... I was wrong..."
Watching her switch instantly into "lamb" mode, the smile at the corner of Seiji's mouth deepened.
As expected of Ai Hayasaka.
That acting ability, that capacity to read a situation and adjust, was indeed far more interesting than the average girl.
Pity...
"Your acting is quite good." Seiji released his hand and patted her cheek lightly, like soothing a pet. "But it doesn't work on me."
He had read the original work.
He understood very well just how proud and untamed this little wildcat's heart truly was.
"Before I let you leave," Seiji's voice dropped low, full of a command that brooked no argument, "one more morning exercise."
With that, he pressed Ai's head downward.
Her body went completely rigid.
She stared at Seiji in disbelief.
Morning exercise?
A wave of humiliation, countless times stronger than what she had felt last night when she was violated, swept through her entire body.
This... this kind of thing...
She couldn't do it!
But meeting Seiji's deep, cold gaze, every word of resistance Ai had caught in her throat.
She knew that if she dared utter a single "no," the punishment waiting for her would be a hundred times worse than this humiliation.
In the end, Ai still closed her eyes and obediently knelt down...
The carpet was soft under her knees. That was the detail her mind fixed on and would not release afterward, the absurd expensive softness of it, while above her he took a fistful of her short pale hair, guided her mouth onto his cock, and told her, in the same mild pleasant voice he used for everything else, to do it properly.
She did it properly. That was the part that would stay with her: not that she was made to, but that she was good at it, because Ai Hayasaka had never once in her life been permitted to be bad at a task, and the elite training that had built the perfect attendant did not switch itself off simply because the task was this. Her jaw ached. Her eyes streamed. His hand set the pace at the back of her head while her own hands braced uselessly on his thighs. The rape the night before had been something done to her body while she went somewhere far away inside herself. This was not like that. This she had to perform, kneeling, with attention, and there was nowhere far away to go from a thing her own mouth was doing. That was why it struck her countless times harder than the violation had. The violation had only taken her body. This asked for her compliance, and got it.
He did not let her stop, and he did not let her pull off at the end. He held her there by the hair and made her take all of it, and then made her stay exactly as she was, mouth full, not swallowing and not spitting, while he looked down at the proud Shinomiya wildcat kneeling ruined on his expensive carpet and let the moment go on as long as it amused him.
"Swallow."
She swallowed.
"Good girl. Don't rinse it away. I want you to keep it a while."
...
When Ai walked out of that grand mansion like a walking corpse, it was already ten in the morning.
A black sedan was parked quietly at the entrance.
The driver opened the car door for her and said respectfully, "Miss Hayasaka, the master has instructed me to take you back to the Shinomiya main residence."
Ai nodded numbly and got into the car.
The vehicle drove smoothly along.
She leaned against the window, watching the streetscape fly past in reverse, her gaze hollow, as though her soul had been drained out.
A taste lingered in her mouth that nearly made her gag.
Out of cruel amusement, Seiji had told her to savor it properly, denying her the chance to rinse it out.
...
When the car slowly pulled into the Shinomiya main residence, Kaguya was already waiting anxiously at the entrance.
She had barely slept a wink all night.
Seeing the unfamiliar luxury car and Ai stepping out with unsteady footsteps, all of Kaguya's anger instantly turned into worry.
"Hayasaka!?"
She rushed over and caught the swaying Ai.
"Where on earth did you go? Why are you only getting back now? Are you hurt?"
A barrage of questions came down like artillery shells.
Looking at Kaguya's face, written all over with concern, Ai felt an unspeakable bitterness and sorrow rise in her chest.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
But the words caught at her lips, and not a single one would come out.
What could she say?
That she had been treated as a gift by her family, sent to a man?
That last night, she had endured the darkest, most humiliating night of her life?
No, she couldn't say it.
She was afraid of seeing sympathy, pity, or even... revulsion in Kaguya's eyes.
More importantly, she was afraid that the lingering taste in her mouth, not yet faded, would be noticed by the young lady.
"I... I'm fine, Lady Kaguya."
Ai pulled free of Kaguya's hands and used every ounce of strength she had to keep her voice as calm as possible.
"The mission was just a bit tiring. I'll go rest first."
With that, she lowered her head and almost fled past Kaguya.
Kaguya stood frozen in place, watching Ai's hurried, retreating figure, the doubt in her heart growing deeper.
...
Meanwhile.
Inside the Shinomiya Family conference room, the atmosphere was one of jubilation.
"Ai Hayasaka was kept overnight by Seiji Fujiwara."
"Hahaha, excellent! It seems Mr. Fujiwara is very pleased with the 'gift' we sent him!"
"I told you, no man can resist a girl of Ai Hayasaka's type."
"This is only the first step." The head of the Shinomiya Family, Gan'an Shinomiya, rapped on the table to silence everyone. "A mere Ai Hayasaka is nowhere near enough in weight."
His eyes glinted with shrewd calculation.
"Since Mr. Fujiwara enjoys the 'specialty' of our Shinomiya Family, then to maintain this hard-won friendly relationship, we must offer him a gift of greater weight."
His gaze swept across every person present.
"Kaguya. It's time for her to start contributing to the family as well."
...
Seiji's mansion.
He sat leisurely on the sofa, leafing through a file his subordinate had just brought him.
The file contained detailed information on five Japanese kendo masters.
Seiji turned the pages one by one, and his gaze finally settled on one of them.
[Busujima-ryu, Current Head of the House: Ryumu Busujima.]
[Rank: Kendo Hanshi 8th Dan.]
[Profile: ...]
His eyes skipped over the lengthy introduction and landed on the last line of the profile, along with the photo attached beside it.
[Only Daughter: Saeko Busujima. National High School Kendo Tournament Champion.]
In the photo was a purple-haired girl in kendo attire, holding a bamboo sword.
Her gaze was sharp as a blade.
A smile of keen interest curved at the corner of Seiji's mouth.
"It'll be her."
He gave the order to the secretary behind him.
"In my name, hire this Master Busujima as my personal kendo sparring partner."
"Yes, President."
Though the secretary was puzzled by the President's sudden interest, she immediately bowed and accepted the order.
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