Yandere and Menhera - Suddenly Having a Yandere Older Stepsister and a Menhera Younger Stepsister Makes Every Day Difficult - Chapter 1 - 45/46

After several hours, I stepped onto the mat for the finals. My opponent was, of course, the pupil of that coach who had previously entangled with us.

From his build, it was obvious he was a judoka specializing in back throws, but I reminded myself not to get too fixated on that and to be wary of other techniques he might use. I slapped my cheeks to psych myself up and aimed to control the match at my own pace.

The finals began with our names being called out. The arena instantly erupted with excitement.

As expected of a national championship final, my opponent and I glared at each other as we approached the starting line.

The greeting of “Begin” echoed throughout the venue.

Immediately, my opponent and I dashed forward, gripping each other tightly, each trying to draw the other into our preferred range while moving around.

Gradually, the only sound was the thumping of the mat, and I felt the intense focus of being in a one-on-one battle. That’s when, for some reason, the thought of Matsuri-nee-san crossed my mind.

Was it really alright to have let her go back like that? For some reason, my mind drifted to Matsuri-nee-san at such a critical moment.

Then, I found myself within my opponent’s range and was skillfully thrown, losing a waza-ari. I tried to get up to avoid being pinned, but my opponent cleverly used the time to prevent me from standing, causing me to lose about five seconds.

“Hold!”

At the referee’s signal to pause, we both stood up and glanced at the clock. With only two and a half minutes left, I aimed for a waza-ari or an even bigger score by focusing on grabbing the back collar.

My opponent, disliking this, tried to escape from the grip, leading to another pause by the referee’s “Hold!” call and a shido (penalty) for escaping the grip were given to my opponent.

I relentlessly attacked, hoping the penalty would make my opponent panic and create an opening. But in the end, I couldn’t overcome the significance of that single waza-ari and lost the national championship final.

This resulted from my last tournament in my third year of junior high.

After the tournament ended, I returned to the hotel with Coach and Miyuki-san. The atmosphere in the room was heavy and gloomy.

Miyuki-san was the one to break the silence.

“Good job on the match.”

“I’m sorry. I showed you a disappointing match.”

As I responded, the coach, with tears in his eyes, patted my head and then murmured.

“If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have made it to the nationals. At the next stage, don’t just aim for the nationals – go for the world.”

Overcome by the weight of his words, I could do nothing but cry.

Then, after the coach said he wanted to be alone and left the hotel, Miyuki-san gently patted my head and offered,

“I’ll give you a lap pillow. Come here.”

Without any other thoughts, I just leaned on Miyuki-san, seeking comfort.

◆　◇　◆

As the morning sun shone through the window, I was awakened by a soft sensation on my cheek. It seems I had fallen asleep with my head on Miyuki-san’s lap until morning.

“Good morning,” I managed to say.

Sitting against the wall, Miyuki-san had been offering me her lap as a pillow without lying down herself. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and stroked my head as she greeted me back, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep unintentionally.”

“It’s okay. You worked hard yesterday, so consider it a reward.”

“But, Miyuki-san, you must not have been able to sleep.”

“It’s fine, really. Now, we have to head home today, so let’s get ready quickly!”

Following her instructions, I started packing my things and preparing to leave the hotel. Miyuki-san straightened the bed sheets and finished organizing her luggage, just as the coach appeared.

“Hey, Ryusuke, did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. Yes, I slept well.”

“Alright, let’s head out from the hotel.”

After checking out, we took a taxi to the airport. The ride was filled with lively conversations with the coach and Miyuki-san, a stark contrast to yesterday’s silence.

While sitting on a bench at the airport, chatting and laughing, someone approached us.

“Excuse me, do you have a moment?”

“Uh, if it’s just for a bit.”

“I watched your tournament and wanted to speak with you because I was intrigued.”

“Oh?”

“Nice to meet you. I coach a high school judo team in Kyushu, and I was thinking about scouting you.”

“Could it be that you’re the famous…”

“You know of me?”

The woman who approached me was the coach of the high school judo team I admired, renowned for leading her team to national individual and team championships and sending many athletes to compete internationally.

“Oh, please!”

“Hmm?”

“If it’s okay, could you please coach me?”

“Well, I’m the one who approached you.”

“I’ve always admired you. If I could do judo at such a school, I’d like to ask you myself!”

Just then, a boarding announcement echoed through the airport. It was for my flight, and as I hurried, the female coach slipped a piece of paper into the chest pocket of my clothes.

“Contact me when you get home.”

“Ah, yes!”

At that moment, my heart was pounding with excitement, unaware that this would later lead to such an unexpected turn of events.