A Hard-Boiled (Self-Proclaimed) Guy Like Me Doesn’t Suit a Romcom-Style Youth - Chapter 3: Sumo

Chapter 3: Sumo

I borrowed the staff changing room and changed into the uniform. The hem of the slacks was a little long, but I’ll surely grow more from now on. With that expectation, I just roughly folded them up.

In elementary school, we wore plain clothes, and junior high was via correspondence, so this is my first time wearing a uniform.

As I tied the necktie and buttoned the blazer, I felt my expectations for this new life naturally swelling. I hadn’t even realized it myself, but it seems I’m quite giddy right now.

I put my removed clothes into the paper bag that had held the uniform, then threw the poncho over my shoulders and put on the ten-gallon hat.

I checked myself in the mirror on the wall, and if I do say so myself, it’s not bad.

Alright!

The poncho is a favorite of mine, woven in the village of the Andean ethnic minority where I lived for five years. The ten-gallon hat is a treasure I received from my stepsister as a birthday present just the other day.

“Then there was no point in changing!”

When I triumphantly exited the changing room, Kuki-sensei confiscated my poncho and ten-gallon hat.

“Are you sure you don’t need a guide?”

“Yes. Thank you very much.”

The school building’s layout is simple. I probably won’t get lost, and since I have the chance, I want to explore.

From the connecting corridor to the South Building. From there, I went up the stairs to the fourth floor.

It seems this school opens up empty classrooms to use as club rooms. The large number of empty classrooms is likely due to the declining number of students caused by the low birth rate. However, the faces of the students working hard at their club activities were all bright.

The timbre of instruments played by the brass band and light music clubs. From outside, the shouts of sports clubs could be heard.

The Japanese youth fantasia that the world’s OTAKU love so much.

Thinking that from tomorrow I would join this circle of harmony, I felt my expectations for school life rising all at once.

I climbed the stairs in high spirits. When I reached the fourth floor, the noise naturally grew quieter, and the presence of people became sparse. It seems the cultural club rooms are gathered around here, and the students I passed gave off a somewhat quiet impression.

When I asked for the Tea Ceremony Club room, I was told it was the classroom at the very end.

However, coming before the classroom in question, I stopped in my tracks. Because I realized strange sounds were coming from inside.

Rough breathing. Sounds like the tatami mats being kicked violently could be heard outside the classroom at times.

Could it be… they’re doing it?

I mean, doing it in an empty classroom after school is romantic and all…

In an environment where adolescent boys and girls gather, well, those kinds of things happen too.

Having been in an environment more sexually open than Japan, I’m used to encountering such scenes, and I have experience too.

However, right now, the girl who was my first love should be in this classroom.

My mood, which had been rising until just a moment ago, plummeted down a steep slope.

—Mirai-chan is?

Mirai-chan is an adolescent girl too. She was a cute kid, so it wouldn’t be strange if she had a boyfriend.

I made up my mind to quietly peek inside through the window on the door.

It’s absolutely not that I wanted to peek at them doing the deed. It’s just that Mirai-chan is the daughter of Miyazu Yousuke-san, my proxy guardian. If it became known that she was doing indecent things at school, Yousuke-san would be hurt, and Mirai-chan could face punishment.

It’s been five years, but if I see her face, I should know—

Peeking in quietly, a definitely grown-up Mirai-chan was there.

I knew immediately. Her chestnut ponytail hasn’t changed since back then.

However, the situation was quite different from what I had imagined.

Inside the classroom were Mirai-chan and a girl with long black hair in a ponytail. The two had rolled the sleeves of their blouses up to their upper arms and were locked firmly together on the tatami mats laid on the floor, barefoot.

SUMO?

I doubted my eyes. But without a doubt, that is Japan’s national sport and divine ritual. Sumo.

Mirai-chan and the other girl were right in the middle of a sumo match.

There were only the two of them in the classroom. In the corner of the tatami, their indoor shoes and socks. Their blazers were folded neatly and placed there.

Wasn’t this the Tea Ceremony Club?

Faced with an unexpected situation, I was bewildered, but relieved.

Relieved that I didn’t have to see a scene of Mirai-chan doing that sort of thing.

And relieved to think that Mirai-chan hasn’t changed from back then.

Because the girl I liked preferred moving her body outside rather than sitting gracefully and making tea.

Cushions placed in a circle surrounded the two. Probably a substitute for the dohyo ring.

Nokotta, nokotta. They were abandoning tea to indulge in sumo. That is truly just like Mirai-chan.

Thrusting arms under armpits, sometimes grappling, sometimes twisting their bodies to overturn the opponent. While keeping exquisite balance on the slippery tatami, the two girls displayed a fierce bout. Before I knew it, I was captivated by their powerful sumo, which didn’t seem like that of amateurs at all.

Their physiques were almost evenly matched. The opponent girl seemed a little taller than Mirai-chan, but Mirai-chan had a more solid build. Plump thighs peeking out from short skirts. Both had good figures, and the outlines of large chests were clearly visible through their blouses.

After a moment of stalemate, perhaps losing in strength, Mirai-chan’s legs were pushed back. Mirai-chan circling on the tatami. The opponent, not letting her escape, wrapped arms around Mirai-chan’s back, pressing close as if hugging.

At that moment, I caught a glimpse of the opponent girl’s profile. She is a tremendous beauty.

Raven-black hair. A beautiful face with white skin and a shapely nose bridge. If ten out of ten people saw her, I think they would describe her this way.

As a Yamato Nadeshiko.

Mirai-chan had very good reflexes and was strong enough to win even when getting into fistfights with boys. She was strong at sumo too, and I was always beaten. And now, a girl who looked like the personification of purity was going toe-to-toe or better with that Mirai-chan.

Mirai-chan’s foot touched a cushion.

Do your best, Mirai-chan!

Just as I sent encouragement in my heart to Mirai-chan, who was holding out at the edge of the ring. My eyes met Mirai-chan’s.

Ah.

In that instant, the opponent girl swept Mirai-chan’s legs, and Mirai-chan’s body danced in the air. Just as I thought moderately tanned thighs and something light blue flowed through my vision, a thud echoed in the empty classroom, and Mirai-chan rolled onto the tatami.

The winning move was a two-handed throw (nichonage). It’s the Yamato Nadeshiko’s victory.

“Hyaah! Mi-chan, are you okay!?”

The girl hurriedly helped Mirai-chan up. It seems even the one who threw her was surprised by how brilliantly the technique was executed.

“Ngh… I took the fall properly so I’m fine. More importantly…”

Mirai-chan’s wild gaze turned toward me.

Crap…

I hurriedly ducked down.

It’s not like I did anything guilty. What’s wrong with accidentally seeing sumo, Japan’s national sport and divine ritual?

Because they were girls? No, no, women’s sumo is spreading to the world now. South America, where I was until recently, is a region where amateur sumo is particularly thriving. Naturally, many female athletes are active too.

But, why? What is this guilt of having peeked at something forbidden?

Because I saw underwear, even for an instant? No, isn’t doing sumo while wearing a skirt more to blame for that?

While thinking of excuses in my head, I tried to leave the scene.

However, the sound of the door opening vigorously behind me signaled the end of my escape drama in seconds.

“Wait, suspicious person.”

A voice and tone I could never forget. Her strong-willed personality seems unchanged.

“Yes. I’m sorry!”

After apologizing reflexively, I turned around fearfully.

Mirai-chan had become much more beautiful than back then. But those sparkling, cat-like eyes haven’t changed.

She was so dazzling that I unintentionally looked away.

It was definitely not because I noticed that a button on the chest of her greatly heaving blouse had come undone, revealing a glimpse of a light blue bra.

“Hey Mi-chan! Your chest button is undone! It’s showing!”

“Woah!?”

Having her immodest state pointed out, Mirai-chan turned her back to fix her blouse.

Thinking it would be safe, I looked at her back, only to see the lines of her shoulder blades and bra faintly visible through the white blouse. If I lowered my gaze, there were bewitching bare legs. It wasn’t safe at all.

I thought about running away at this moment, but my eyes met the Yamato Nadeshiko’s. She really is a beautiful girl. I can’t believe a girl like this does sumo, throwing and defeating Mirai-chan who used to be unmatched against boys.

I thought for sure she would blame me too, but there was no sign of that. Her expression looked somewhat surprised.

Eh, what?

“Hey, you!”

Mirai-chan, who had put on her blazer and tidied up her appearance, cut in between us.

“Hmm? Huh?”

As if realizing something, Mirai-chan peered into my face. Then, her spirited upturned eyes turned perfectly round.

“Aaah! Ayata—!”

Mirai-chan pointed her finger and raised her voice.

Incidentally, Mirai-chan calls me Ayata.

And thus, the girls and I achieved our reunion.