— Sin-cha-a-an!
What an infection! After all, he knows how much I dislike such familiarity. Alone or at home, I had already stopped paying attention to it, and on the street, in front of strangers, such treatment made me very nervous. However, you can't show how much I don't like it, this will only provoke her, but you shouldn't ignore it, otherwise she'll get used to it. So, having depicted a slight degree of discontent on my face, I turned around.
— Ah, Koyama-san, hello. Long time no see.
— Are you crazy, little one? Have you already forgotten who woke you up in the morning and drove you from home to school?
— A-a-a, so that's who's been flashing before my eyes all morning. Well, sorry, I didn't notice.
Crack. The professional blow to the liver was not that painful, but rather unpleasant. And this is not surprising. After all, Koyama Shin is very good at both attacking and defending.
— This is so that you wake up, finally, or you might not notice something else important.
M-yes… And after all, what's lousy: you won't guess when it will hit, and when it will ignore. In a word, a female child. Okay, Max, calm down, just calm down. She's just a kid, a seventeen-year-old girl studying martial arts almost from birth. But in this world, which has always been and remains the patrimony of men, they never knew about such a thing as feminism. Although at first glance it seems that this is not the case, but the woman here is practically the property of the family, clan, clan. And no matter how Sheena behaves, and no matter what she thinks, it is unthinkable for her to go against the will of her father or grandfather. And so everywhere. Although there are exceptions, but they relate more to families where men are complete suckers. However, this makes me neither warm nor cold.
By the way, yes, it's probably worth introducing yourself. My name is Max, Maxim Rudov, and I am that fabulous popadanets.
— Well, that's crouching, let's go, otherwise we'll be late because of you.
— Because of me! I whispered.
— Something I didn't hear you, what did you mumble there?
— I say: as you say, great lady.
— That's the same, it would always be like that! and, straightening her back, she swam forward with the proud gait of an aristocrat.
I should probably say that today is the sixth of April, which means the beginning of a new school year, and, accordingly, I am going to school. In the first grade of Dakisyuro High School.
High fences, behind which private houses and mansions were hidden, towered on both sides of the road. People kept coming out of the gates. Children and adults, men and women hurried about their business. And I, trying to keep up with the Bus, walking ahead at a fast pace, thought that I should have chosen this school in vain. The story of the choice is generally quite funny.
After graduating from high school, the question arose in front of me: to continue my studies or not? And if you continue, then where. Well, since I live without parents, then the choice is entirely on my conscience. About my parents and my life after they left it is generally a separate story, I would even say an epic, but more on that later. So, after I graduated from high school, Sheena's family, my neighbors, literally besieged me. Everything was in the course: from banal stories about what a wonderful educational institution Dakisyuro was, to an invitation to lunch in honor of the founding day of the school and, accordingly, numerous repetition of stories about it and general praise.
For a long time I could not understand what was going on and why they would even woo me there, until one incident occurred. That evening, Shin's mother, Koyama Kagami, invited me to dinner, and even feeling how it would all end, I could not refuse this kind woman (by the way, the Koyama family, knowing this, often uses my good attitude towards them).
I don't know how it happened, but on our street, consisting of standard two-story private houses, only my neighbors lived in a decent-sized mansion built in traditional Japanese style, with a rather big yard. And all this wealth was surrounded by a two-meter stone fence. However, its height did not prevent the Koyama sisters from easily overcoming this obstacle in order to make my life unnecessarily fun. However, Sheena, the eldest of the sisters, stopped doing this for the last year, apparently finally realized that it was inappropriate for a girl of her age to jump over fences. It's just a pity that she didn't stop coming to me at all, she found, you see, a whipping boy. I myself have never, though I could, climbed over fences, so when I went outside the porch and walked a few meters, I just opened the gate and entered this abode of evil. I exaggerate, of course, but the children's part of the Koyama family can't be called anything but demons.
After passing through the courtyard, I took off my shoes on the genkan — a small, ten centimeters high, stone stretching along the front of the building. After walking along a narrow, one and a half meters, veranda, I went into the house.
"Good evening, everyone," I said, raising my voice a little, since there was no one in the hallway.
— Shinji-I-I! — A squeal from the depths of the house is replaced by a stomp, and a sixteen-year-old red-haired miracle jumps on my neck with a run. — Shinji, Shinji, I finally mastered that terribly difficult technique and now I can break bricks with my head!
What? Oh, yeah. "The armor of the Spirit." This is not exactly a technique, but rather an ability that followers of any martial technique train — the ability to concentrate a layer of energy around the body, which both protects and helps to attack.
There are a great many techniques in this world. At the same time, they are divided into four categories: hand-to-hand combat, fencing, blunt weapon combat and throwing weapon combat. The latter category also includes firearms combat. Well, the categories themselves are already divided into various techniques. For example, the Koyama use the "fiery hand-to-hand combat technique". And there is, for example, the "shadow throwing weapon technique".
Well, as for the bricks and the head, this is a long-standing fad of Mizuki, Shin's younger sister. The fact is that Sheena performed this trick at the age of eleven. And when Mizuki was adopted, it was the first thing the new sister showed her. No wonder little ten-year-old Mizuki was struck to the core. However, she was able to repeat this only now, six years later, which is not surprising, because Sheena began to be taught at the age of five, and Mizuki at ten. Plus, I often heard that Koyama's older sister is called a genius. So everything is natural.
"Mizuki, I'm happy for you, of course, but don't you think your behavior is inappropriate for a girl?" Besides, to behave like a little kid at sixteen… This, you know, leads to certain thoughts.
— What kind of thoughts are these?!
— Well... — "That you're an inferior fool." — Um... well, think about it yourself.
—Think about it, think about it," she grimaced. — I don't care about it, you're not an outsider, almost a member of the family, I can behave as I like with you.
That's what happiness is!
Koyama Kagami appeared on the threshold of the next room — the mother of the family, a clever, beautiful and simply amazing woman.
— Guys, wash your hands, and get to the table.
— I'm already running, Mom. — and, unhooking herself from my neck, Mizuki galloped off into the depths of the house.
—As you say, Kagami-san," I replied, bowing in greeting. — You look beautiful, as always. — A compliment to a woman is never superfluous: it is not difficult for me, and it is pleasant for her.
— Oh, Shinji, you're a lovelace, run faster to wash your hands. Going into the living room, I grinned: in the tokonoma, a niche inside the wall of the house where the TV usually stood, today there was a pot with a Japanese palm tree, also known as a cicada, and on the central wall there was a black-and-white drawing depicting some uncles and leaves of the same palm tree. If anyone does not know, the coat of arms of the Dakisyuro school is a palm tree, more precisely, palm leaves. Which, in turn, are the symbol of the winners.
About ten minutes later, when the first hunger was satisfied, Koyama Kenta, a strong sixty—nine-year-old man, Sheena's grandfather and the head of the family, finally began the conversation for which I was invited today.
"Shinji, have you decided about high school yet?" — The old man of Kent looked at me attentively and sternly, showing with all his appearance that the question was more than serious.
In principle, I have long decided that I will go to high school, it is necessary for legalization. But certainly not where the Tire goes. However, it was somehow awkward for me to talk about it to the Tire's relatives. And that's where I made a mistake. You could find a dozen reasons why I want to go to another school, but I chose the most moronic answer:
— Yes, I decided. I thought a lot and decided to graduate from high school.
"And for what reason, may I ask?" A smile flashed across the grandfather's face. — You know perfectly well that further education is very important.
— Everything is the same as always, Kenta-san, everything is the same everywhere, I just don't have the money to pay for school. — Everything is a little different with my money now, but the old man can't know about it, which means he can't catch me on it either. — So I decided that it was better for me to go to work.
"Well, in that case, it's settled. Get ready to enter Dakisyuro High School, Shinji.
— What?
— If the problem is only money, and the problem is only this, as far as I understand, then you don't have to worry, there will be money, — grandfather smiled.
Okay, I see. That's the thing. It turns out that all their gestures were due to banal pity! No, I'm not a very proud guy, anyway, when I had difficult days, I swallowed my pride and accepted too frequent invitations to lunch or dinner. And when Kagami-san brought various delicious dishes, ostensibly so that the child would not eat noodles alone, I smiled and thanked her. But there is a limit to everything. And even my pride sometimes starts to rebel.
— Kenta-san, I am very grateful to you for your participation, but no. I can't accept your help. — It cost me some effort not to explode and do stupid things. "I... don't need... well, no. Thank you, of course, but no.