InsomniaWL周黄合子

Chapter 568: 568 – Training Camp [100 PS]


In the end, even the noble and high-minded blonde princess failed to show her selfless side.


Much to Kasuko's disappointment, she didn't get to witness her brother's heroic leap from the rooftop.


Of course, with Kyousuke's athletic build and agility, a jump from the third floor wouldn't hurt him in the slightest, one roll would be enough to absorb all the impact.


The next day was the weekend.


Aside from Shouko, who went to her agency for practice, the dormitory "Ruyi" fell into a deep, peaceful silence.


Every single person left behind was a professional at sleeping in, even Yukari wasn't an exception.


At first, the "mature baby" still felt a bit embarrassed about it.


As a senior, she thought it was unbecoming to laze around while the juniors slept.


So, she used to get up early even on weekends.


But after realizing that her "diligence" just made everyone else feel awkward, she stopped trying so hard.


Take Eriri, for example…


Well, actually, the only one who ever felt awkward was Eriri.


She stayed up late, slept in late, and yet had the heaviest idol complex of them all.


When she woke up with messy hair and sleepy eyes and heard Yukari ask if she wanted a Coke to wake up, her face immediately turned red.


She started flusteredly arguing that she wasn't lazy — she was still growing, and she needed enough sleep for her body to develop properly!


Then she went on to lecture Yukari, saying the reason her chest wasn't as big as Okudera Miki's was because she didn't sleep enough.


To strengthen her "argument," she even used herself as an example — proudly declaring that her own growth was proof that proper sleep worked wonders.


When Yukari questioned that claim, Eriri didn't back down.


Instead, she pointed at the corgi beside them, saying, "Just look at Momotarou! He's grown so much in just a couple of months — that's my strongest evidence!"


…What a lucky dog.


If anyone else had said that, the others would've argued back.


But since the "dog" in question was Momotarou, nobody could deny it.


After all, that dog was living the dream — eating, sleeping, and going on walks every day with a rotation of pretty girls.


Truly a winner in life.


The only reason he hadn't completely given up and become a lazy couch potato was probably because his goal in life was to become the number one loyal sidekick.


"Wruff wruff~!"


Translation: [I'm working hard again today! Every day I get to see Aniki is the best day ever!]


The fluffy white puppy barked softly as it ran, its little legs moving as fast as they could to keep up with its big brother.


Yes — the one walking Momotarou today was none other than Kyousuke.


It was a rare weekend, and he wanted the lazy bunch at home to enjoy a carefree day without any chores or obligations.


Since he had to get up early anyway, he figured he might as well take the dog out for a jog.


There was a park nearby, but many people still preferred jogging along the streets.


Anyone who's watched Japanese dramas or anime knows how much the Japanese love running — some characters literally start running in episode one and are still running when the series ends.


Either they have a deep love for the sport… or they're just terrified of taking taxis.


Kyousuke jogged at a relaxed pace.


If he went all out, poor Momotarou would probably take flight and turn into a "Sky Pup."


When they reached a house owned by a restaurant owner, he stopped — not to grab breakfast, but to let Momotarou socialize.


The dog had a friend there, and unless it visited every time, it would flop onto the ground and refuse to move, forcing Kyousuke to drag it home.


The restaurant belonged to the Matsumoto family, who owned a gray cat.


Not a fancy breed, just an ordinary domestic cat — except it was massive.


So fat, in fact, that when it walked, it looked like a gas tank rolling down the street.


Kyousuke often saw neighborhood kids surrounding it, laughing as they followed the cat's slow, dignified strut.


The cat didn't seem to mind — either because it had a saintly temper or because it knew its chubby body stood no chance of outrunning the kids.


Since he'd never actually talked to the Matsumotos, Kyousuke didn't know the cat's name.


The local kids had plenty of nicknames for it — Fat Cat, Bighead, Mochi-Face, or Tsuki (because its round face looked like a full moon).


There was Slowpoke, Chunky, Fat-suke… the list went on.


One day, while he was chatting with them, a fifth-grader proudly invited him to give the cat an official name.


That was quite the challenge — after all, everyone in the neighborhood knew they lived next to a famous novelist.


They probably thought they'd get something poetic or profound.


If he gave the cat a lame name, the kids' parents might lose faith in literature altogether.


So he had to treat this seriously. He needed something clever, something that showed his refined artistic sensibility.


After a few moments of deep thought, with all the kids staring at him in anticipation, Hojou Kyousuke finally said:


"Let's call it... 'That's it.'"


The kids froze.


Then they all started asking why.


After a long pause, the eldest of the group frowned thoughtfully and said, "Wait—does Mr. Hojou mean this as, like, a metaphor for life?"


Kyousuke just smiled mysteriously and said, "Good question. That'll be your homework. I'll tell your parents in the community chat. Each of you write an essay about it."


The kids groaned and scattered in frustration, while Momotarou happily took the chance to play with 'That's It'.


Kyousuke couldn't help laughing out loud.


"Name a cat? Me? Don't they know I hate naming things?"


If it were up to him, his pets would all be named Lucky or Money — nothing wrong with shouting a bit of good fortune every day.


Still, the fat cat did have that typical feline arrogance — when the kids played around it, it didn't even blink, as if saying, 'That's it? That's all you've got? Why don't you try flying next?'


Even when teased about its weight, it just kept eating, like it was saying, 'That's it? You think I care?' Truly a sage among cats.


Honestly, if he could name his own pet something like that, it'd be kind of satisfying.


Imagine someone annoying you — you just turn and shout, "That's it? That's it?" Not as auspicious as Lucky or Money, maybe, but still great for blowing off steam.


Even though That's It didn't have a job or school to go to, the cat probably loved weekends too.


On weekends, the neighborhood kids all slept in, leaving it in peace — perfect for catching up on its own beauty sleep.


When Kyousuke and Momotarou arrived at the Matsumoto house that morning, the fat gray cat was sprawled lazily across the gatepost — a round, puffy blob that looked like an overcooked sesame rice ball.


Soft sunlight spilled across its glossy fur, making it shimmer like silver velvet.


Momotarou tilted his head and whimpered a few times, but "That's It" didn't even bother to lift an eyelid, continuing to nap under the warm sun.


The little dog started pacing anxiously in circles — he wanted to bark louder, but he remembered what his respected aniki (big bro) had said:


Don't disturb the neighbors.


Even a hotheaded delinquent like Kisaki could follow that rule, so as the proud No.1 loyal sidekick, Momotarou had to do the same!


Kyousuke chuckled, reached out, and with a bit of effort, lifted the chubby gray cat off the gatepost.


The cat still didn't open its eyes — its whole demeanor radiated disdain, like it was silently saying, "That's it? That's all you've got?"


Eventually, though, under Momotarou's relentless pestering, it cracked open one eye, lazily swatted at the puppy a few times, then squeezed through the dog-sized flap at the bottom of the gate.


Normally, people don't install pet doors in their gates — the whole point of a gate is to keep dogs inside… or, well, to stop them from running out.


Anyway, the house is meant for humans, not dogs!


But since cats are basically liquid creatures that can squeeze through almost anything, the Matsumoto family clearly added that dog door out of pity — the poor cat was way too round to climb the fence.


After saying his reluctant goodbyes to That's It, Momotarou trotted off with Kyousuke, who stopped by a nearby restaurant to grab several baskets of steamed buns to take home.


Kyousuke had actually learned about this place from Sakura, and since he passed by it during his jog anyway, he decided to grab breakfast for everyone.


That way, Eriri wouldn't end up wrestling Kasumigaoka-senpai for control of the kitchen again.


When he got back, the house was still silent — everyone was fast asleep.


Kyousuke stored the buns in the warmer, took a quick shower, and headed out again.


Even well-established clubs like the Kendo Club held training camps, so of course the baseball team couldn't afford to fall behind.


That Saturday, they were holding their own camp, right at Soubu High.


It couldn't be helped.


Unlike kendo, which only needed a spacious room, baseball required proper facilities, and their club budget wasn't nearly enough to rent a field elsewhere.


So, back to the school grounds they went.


Meanwhile, Kisaki Tetta had been planning something much bigger to purchase a proper dojo under the name of the Rampaging Angels gang.


Having a real headquarters, he argued, would massively boost morale and unity.


After all, young guys had too much energy to waste — and spending every weekend reselling concert tickets for pocket money wasn't exactly honorable.


Other small gangs used abandoned lots or graffiti-covered buildings as their bases.


But how could a team improve in that kind of dump?


With a proper dojo, they'd have a place to train — both for fights and discipline.


It would raise their image, too.


Imagine this:


A member's friend asks, "What'd you do last weekend?"


He answers, "Oh, just trained at the dojo."


"Wait, all of you guys are fighters?!"


"What, are the Rampaging Angels going pro? Planning to conquer all of Tokyo?"


Even parents would be impressed.


Before, when moms and dads asked what they were doing, they'd just grunt, "Don't worry about it," and roar off on motorcycles.


But now? They could proudly say, "I'm training at the dojo," and their parents might even send snacks for the group.


Kyousuke had agreed to the idea — in fact, he'd even offered to help pay for it himself.


The Rampaging Angels had supported him through thick and thin, both in love and in success.


If he could spend tens of millions of yen on gifts for Makki and Onizuka, why would he hesitate to help fund something meaningful?


Besides, the whole gang had started as a group of friends who just wanted to ride together and have fun.


They didn't have any business ventures or income streams.


When things started to drift in a bad direction, Kyousuke had corrected it before it got out of hand — right before a bunch of angry parents could show up at his door.


They'd gotten so broke that they had to work weekends scalping tickets just to make cash.


Luckily, a lot of people have obsession with waiting in line kept their "business" alive.


Still, Kisaki eventually talked him out of spending big. A dojo wasn't like buying an office building — it didn't cost that much.


Sure, Tokyo's real estate was expensive, but only in the prime districts.


Go a little farther out, and even a regular office worker could afford a small house.


For a group of hundreds, it was easily manageable.


When it came to running an organization, Kisaki clearly had a better head for it than Kyousuke.


He'd even registered the group as an official organization — under his own name, not Kyousuke's.


That way, if anything ever went wrong, it wouldn't drag down his beloved boss.


Kisaki's original dream of making Kyousuke a public figurehead while he ruled from the shadows had slowly evolved into something… much more respectable.


They took out a loan to buy the dojo. With even a small membership fee they could easily cover the monthly payments.


Maintenance was handled by volunteer labor, and collecting dues actually strengthened their bond.


It was a total win-win-win.


The renovations weren't done yet, but the dojo was functional.


The Soubu High Kendo Club was actually holding their training camp there that very day.


And this time, it wasn't just one school — it was a joint training camp!


Higashi High (Kyousuke's old school) and Soubu High had both joined, along with their longtime friendly rival, Kaihin Comprehensive High.


In total, four schools, over a hundred students — a massive event.


Of course, Kaihin's Kendo Club wasn't exactly elite.


They'd never made any waves at the national tournaments, much like Soubu High before Kyousuke's enrollment.


Compared to the powerhouse teams of Higashi and Kaiju, they were small fry.


Still, for Kisaki Tetta who is now the club's manager inviting Kaihin was strategic.


The two schools had a long-standing partnership, often collaborating on events.


And the administration loved that kind of inter-school networking.


It looked great on paper, which made them far more generous when approving the club's funding.


So when the Kaihin team followed the GPS and finally arrived at the address for the training camp…


They froze.


They stood outside for nearly five minutes, whispering nervously, too scared to go in.


Even after calling Kisaki to confirm that this was the correct location, none of them dared step through the gate.


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