Now Kazuma had started bringing a motorcycle to campus.
The reason was simple: the dojo where he trained was quite far from the train station. Even though Japan had a very dense transportation network, not every route had direct access to places like Yamazaki's dojo. If he continued relying on trains and walking, too much time would be wasted.
The motorcycle he used was his father's old KLX. It had been parked in the garage for a long time since his father passed away. At first Kazuma had almost never touched it, but after his training routine at the dojo became more intense, he decided to restore the vehicle.
Fortunately, he had already become fairly skilled at riding a motorcycle since graduating from high school.
The KLX engine was now alive again, its sound heavy but steady as he rode through the streets of Tokyo. There was a strange feeling every time he started the motorcycle—as if part of his father's memories still remained there.
However, bringing a personal vehicle to campus created another effect.
At the University of Tokyo, most students rarely used personal vehicles. Public transportation was far more practical, so motorcycles or cars in the campus area were usually owned by only a small number of people.
When Kazuma began arriving with a motorcycle, people's attention slowly started turning toward him.
Especially after his physical transformation over the past three months.
The skinny body he once had was now gone without a trace. His shoulders were broader, his posture upright, and his steps carried the balance of someone accustomed to physical training. His height also seemed to have increased slightly, making him stand out more among other students.
Added to that was his neat style of clothing.
Kazuma was not the type to follow trends excessively, but he knew how to choose clothes that fit his body well. A simple jacket, well-fitted pants, and clean shoes—enough to give the impression of someone who understood style without looking like he was trying too hard.
The result… was quite noticeable.
When he parked his motorcycle in the campus parking area and removed his helmet, several female students who happened to pass by would often glance at him twice.
Some even stopped walking for a moment.
"Who is he?"
"He's an engineering student, right?"
"Didn't he used to look more… small?"
Whispers like that could sometimes be heard faintly around him.
For some people, Kazuma's change felt like a sudden transformation. In just three months, he looked like a different person.
Added to that was the sight of him riding his motorcycle out of campus.
The KLX engine rumbled softly, Kazuma wearing a simple black helmet, then riding out through the campus gate with an upright posture and calm movements.
For many female students, the sight was quite attention-grabbing.
Some even watched from a distance as if they were seeing someone who had just turned into a campus idol.
Yet for Kazuma himself, all of that was simply part of his new routine.
/---/
Yamazaki Kudo stood at the edge of a special training pond with both hands behind his back. His gaze rested on the calm surface of the water, as if nothing was happening beneath it.
In his hand he held an old pocket watch, its metal dulled by age. The small hands inside moved slowly, counting each passing second with a faint ticking sound that was almost impossible to hear.
It had already been ten minutes since someone had been sitting at the bottom of that pond—meditating.
The afternoon wind blew gently, disturbing the surface of the water that had previously been still.
Yamazaki remained standing without moving, showing no sign of worry. His gaze was sharp, like an old hunter waiting for his prey to emerge from hiding.
A few seconds later…
Small bubbles began appearing on the surface of the pond.
One… two… then more and more.
Yamazaki closed his pocket watch with a soft click.
Suddenly the water rippled violently as a figure emerged from inside the pond.
"HAH—!"
Kazuma burst to the surface with a swift movement, his wet hair clinging to his face. He inhaled deeply and greedily, his lungs expanding as if he had just returned from another world.
Water dripped from his chin as he continued drawing in air, his breathing heavy but steady.
It took several seconds before his breathing rhythm returned to normal.
Yamazaki looked down at him with a blank expression.
"Ten minutes and twelve seconds."
His tone was low and dry.
Kazuma was still kneeling in the pond, the water reaching his chest. He wiped his face while trying to calm the pounding of his heart.
"Sorry… I lost focus in the last minute."
Yamazaki snorted softly.
"Losing focus means death."
The sentence was spoken casually, but its meaning was sharp.
He then walked closer to the edge of the pond, looking down at Kazuma with eyes full of evaluation.
"However, for someone who has only trained a few months…"
He paused briefly.
"Not bad."
For Yamazaki Kudo, praise like that was already rare.
Kazuma lifted himself out of the pond, water dripping from his soaked training clothes. The muscles in his body were clearly visible beneath the fabric clinging to him.
This exercise was one of the strange methods Yamazaki had given him—underwater meditation.
The goal was not simply holding one's breath.
The training forced the body and mind to remain calm even when the survival instinct began screaming in panic.
For Kazuma, this training had another meaning.
Inside his body existed something far more dangerous than a lack of oxygen.
When he sat quietly at the bottom of the pond, he could feel a faint heat pulsing through his blood, like a small burning ember that never went out.
And if he lost control…
it would not be only himself who would be in danger.
Yamazaki watched him for a few more seconds before speaking.
"Alright. Rest for five minutes."
Kazuma, whose breathing had begun to stabilize, wiped the water from his face. He sat at the edge of the pond, his body still feeling heavy after ten minutes at the bottom of the water.
After a moment, he glanced toward the old man.
"Master… may I ask something?"
Yamazaki stood casually near the pond, his hands folded behind his back.
"Hm? Go ahead."
Kazuma was silent for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.
"Do you have a way to control emotions?"
The question sounded simple, but it was rather strange coming from someone who had already trained in martial arts for several months.
In almost every martial arts school, including aikido, emotional control is the most fundamental principle. When a practitioner is dominated by anger or fear, their technique falls apart. Their movements become stiff, their mind loses clarity.
In real combat, that means one thing: defeat.
Yamazaki looked at Kazuma sharply.
"You're asking something that should already be obvious."
He walked a few steps closer.
"Kazuma, the core of Yamazaki-style martial arts is self-control."
The old man stopped directly in front of his student.
"Do you know why I've been tormenting you for the last three months?"
Kazuma fell silent.
Various brutal training sessions flashed through his mind—balance drills, wooden strikes, running with weights, underwater meditation, and numerous strange methods that often felt more like punishment than training.
But before he could answer, Yamazaki continued.
"Not to make you strong."
Kazuma was slightly surprised to hear that.
Yamazaki pointed at his own chest with a wrinkled but firm finger.
"Physical strength is only a tool."
Then he pointed at Kazuma's head.
"What matters is here."
He then pointed to the center of Kazuma's chest.
"And here."
"The human body always reacts to emotion. When you are angry, your breathing changes. When you are afraid, your muscles tighten. When you panic, your mind stops working."
Yamazaki looked at him deeply.
"That is why I force you to train until your body reaches the edge of death."
Kazuma began to understand where the conversation was going.
"When the body reaches its limit, emotions appear without being able to hide."
Yamazaki's voice remained calm.
"Fear. Frustration. Anger."
He exhaled slowly.
"If you can remain calm even when your body is screaming… then you will be able to control yourself."
Kazuma lowered his head slightly, reflecting on those words.
But Yamazaki was not finished.
He narrowed his eyes, looking at his student more sharply than before.
"You didn't ask this without a reason."
His voice grew deeper.
"Kazuma… what exactly are you trying to control?"
The afternoon wind blew again through the dojo yard. The surface of the pond rippled softly, reflecting the sky that had begun changing color.
Kazuma lowered his head slightly. His fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the pond.
"I…"
He paused before continuing.
"I'm afraid that someday I might hurt the people around me."
Kazuma's voice was not loud, but it was honest.
"Sorry, Master. I can't say anything more than that."
Yamazaki watched him in silence. The old man's eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing something.
"Hm."
He finally nodded slowly.
"You are indeed hiding something else."
But he did not seem interested in forcing the matter.
"Yes, that's fine."
Yamazaki then walked toward a wooden bench near the pond and sat down calmly.
"In that case, let's do this."
Kazuma lifted his head slightly.
"I have one self-control technique that is quite effective."
Yamazaki raised one finger.
"It's called Mind Control."
Kazuma frowned.
The name of the technique sounded rather extreme.
Seeing his reaction, Yamazaki snorted softly.
"Not like what you're imagining. This isn't hypnosis."
He pointed to his own head.
"It's simply a method to force your mind to take control over your emotions."
Yamazaki then began explaining calmly.
"Humans have many kinds of emotions—anger, fear, sadness, happiness, despair, confidence."
"Normally those emotions appear naturally and control our actions."
He tapped his temple twice.
"This technique does the opposite."
"You choose the emotion you want to feel… then force your body to follow that choice."
Kazuma listened seriously.
Yamazaki continued,
"For example, when you're angry. Normally your breathing becomes faster, your muscles tighten, and your thoughts become chaotic."
"With this technique, you force yourself to remain calm. Your breathing is regulated, your mind is focused, and that emotion is suppressed until it can no longer disturb you."
He paused before adding,
"Or the opposite."
"You can force yourself to become angry when necessary."
Kazuma was slightly surprised hearing that.
Yamazaki smiled faintly—a rare expression on his old face.
"A fighter does not always need calmness."
"Sometimes anger can also be fuel."
He pointed at Kazuma's chest.
"What matters is not the emotion itself."
"What matters is who holds the control."
Kazuma remained silent for a moment, processing the entire explanation.
If he could truly control his emotions…
perhaps he could also restrain the energy pulsing inside his body.
The energy that felt like the core of a small sun.
Yamazaki stood up again from the bench.
"This technique cannot be learned just by listening."
He pointed to the pond behind Kazuma.
"We will train it now."
Kazuma blinked.
"Now?"
Yamazaki nodded casually.
"Of course."
Then he pointed back to the water with a blank expression.
"Get back in."
Kazuma looked at the pond for a few seconds.
He had just gotten out… He had not even rested yet, but he understood that the earlier conversation had consumed his rest time, and now he had to go back in.
Yamazaki added dryly,
"Another ten minutes."
Kazuma could only let out a long sigh before finally standing up again.
That hellish training… was far from over.