Chapter 90: Miu’s Wish
“If we’re talking dates, isn’t a woman’s ultimate goal just to marry the person she loves? Take her to a wedding dress shop to look around—she might love it.”
Some irresponsible girl’s casual suggestion had been taken completely seriously by a guy who’d only ever scored in 2D and hadn’t even gone on a proper real-life date yet. So after leaving Ryōzanpaku, the two wandered the streets, bought a few little accessories, and Takumi led Miu straight to a bridal shop in town that sold and rented wedding dresses.
“This is the pce you’re sure I’ll like?”
“Yeah, I asked around. Everyone said the ultimate dream spot for women is right here.”
“Like hell it is, you moron!”
With a textbook over-the-shoulder throw, Miu sent Takumi flying. His current skills were sharp enough that even Shigure wouldn’t toss him around casually if she wasn’t pissed. He caught himself with one hand on the ground, flipped upright in a clean hollow backflip, and nded steadily. The dispy of agility and technique instantly drew stares from passersby—some already pulling out phones like they were about to start a crowd. Miu had no choice but to grab his hand and bolt from the shop.
“Did I… make you mad?”
“Of course you did, idiot! Who takes someone on their first real date to a wedding dress shop?! We’re nowhere near the marriage-talk stage! Dating isn’t a staircase—you can’t just skip ten steps at once! Are you even taking this seriously?!”
“I’m super serious! Any romance that isn’t aiming for marriage is just pying around. That’s why I brought you here. I’m dead serious.”
“…”
Miu shot him a speechless look. Just then, a voice cut in.
“Yo, missy, fighting with your boyfriend? Wanna come have some fun with us and ditch this jerk?”
No matter the world, creeps like this always show up when they spot a pretty girl. Two guys with obvious delinquent vibes swaggered over, decked out in cssic Japanese bosozoku style—exactly the kind Takumi recognized from Great Teacher Onizuka.
Miu frowned and stayed silent. Takumi cleared his throat.
“You guys from some gang? You’ve got some nerve hitting on my girlfriend. Do you even know who I am?”
“Who the hell are you? What gang?”
One of the punks raised an eyebrow at Takumi’s tone. Takumi coughed dramatically.
“Since you’ve asked so sincerely, I’ll mercifully tell you. To prevent the world from destruction, to protect the peace of the Earth—I am one of the 108 heroes of the peaceful Ryōzanpaku: Leopard Head Lin Chong!”
“Hah?”
The two brain-dead thugs clearly had zero knowledge of cssic literature. They scratched their heads.
“Never heard of it. Leopard head, tiger head, whatever. We’ve got our eyes on your girl, kid. Hand her over for some fun.”
“Go py with your moms instead.”
Takumi smiled faintly. One punk flew into a rage and grabbed his colr.
“Bakayaro! You looking to die?!”
The next instant, the punk realized he was still clutching empty fabric—Takumi had vanished. Then a low voice came from behind.
“You are already dead.”
A light palm spped against the thug’s back. Blood sprayed from his mouth in a dramatic gush; he crumpled like wet paper. The second punk froze in terror as Takumi’s frame seemed to swell—going from “skinny guy” to a steel-muscled beast in seconds. He even delivered the cssic line, looking for all the world like Kenshiro from Fist of the North Star had possessed him.
The remaining thug, overwhelmed by the killing aura rolling off Takumi, panicked and bolted toward Miu, pulling a sharp little knife.
“D-don’t come closer! Or I’ll kill your girlfriend!”
“Ugh, this is no fun at all. Can’t you at least py along and react properly? I finally get to drop a cssic line with full impact, and you just wet yourself.”
Miu didn’t move, just watched curiously to see how Takumi would handle it. In a fsh, he used one of Shigure’s lightness techniques—body blurring—then lightly spped the thug’s chest from behind. The delinquent’s eyes widened in disbelief before he, too, colpsed in a heap.
“You okay, Miu?”
She was still staring bnkly. Takumi mischievously gave her breast a quick pinch.
“Kyaa! Pervert! Lewd! What are you doing?!”
“Saving you, obviously.”
“Saving me my ass! Who ‘saves’ someone by groping their chest?! That’s just straight-up pervy!”
“What’s the big deal? We’re boyfriend and girlfriend. Stuff like this is totally normal.”
“It’s not normal at all!! You horny beast! I told you—we go step by step! Stop treating dating like a staircase and skipping whole floors!”
“So… which step do I get to do that at?”
“Hmph. Not until after I graduate high school. Forget it.”
“Nooo! That’s over a year away! I’ll die of blue balls!”
Takumi let out a theatrical wail of despair. Miu just sighed in exasperation. She gnced at the two thugs on the ground—they looked messed up, but Takumi hadn’t seriously injured them. Noticing the charred palm print on the first one’s chest, she asked,
“That penetrating strike through clothing… that’s advanced ki technique. Did some master teach you ki already?”
“Nope. I figured this palm style out myself.”
“You figured it out yourself?”
Miu was shocked but not entirely skeptical. When Takumi had fought her and the masters of Ryōzanpaku, everyone had praised his chaotic barrage. Once he’d awakened stillness-type ki waves, comprehending an advanced ki-flow method wasn’t impossible.
“Not bad. This palm of mine even has a super unique name.”
“What is it?”
“It’s called Mountain-Spping, Ox-Beating, Needle-Forging Technique (Ryūkei Kigō Tashinkō).”
When he said “Mountain,” Takumi made an exaggerated groping motion—aimed right at Miu’s impressive chest. She froze for a second, then got it. The next instant, her hook punch smmed into his gut with enough force to balloon the back of his shirt outward.
“You bastard!! Don’t just give it a filthy name like that, you soul-dead idiot!”
After all the shouting and chaos, the two finally started their actual date: shopping, purikura photo booths, arcade games, coffee—everything normal couples do. Happy times always fly by. On their way back, Miu suddenly stopped in front of a poster on a corner wall.
“Is that a movie poster?”
“No, it’s a flyer for the summer fireworks festival.”
Takumi saw the illustration: a girl in yukata, fireworks blooming behind her, surrounded by festival stalls. Miu’s gaze lingered on the yukata.
“You really like yukata?”
“Yeah… When I was little, Mom wore one. It was so pretty—I was super jealous. I always wanted to get one when I grew up. But then… stuff happened, and it never did.”
“Then let’s buy one.”
“Don’t be silly. There’s nowhere in town that rents them, and buying one is expensive. You know how tight things are at Ryōzanpaku. Come on, let’s head back—I still have to cook for everyone.”
Miu walked away with a hint of regret. Takumi gnced back at the poster and made up his mind.
A_Real_Master
