Reincarnated as a Tsubaki sister from COTE

Vol 0.4

The children looked tired

My record so far stood at 144 fights: 119 wins and 25 losses. Right now, I was riding a 49-fight winning streak. The matches were always rotated between male and female opponents, so there was no chance to slack off.

Kiyotaka's record? 127 wins and 17 losses, with a 64-fight winning streak. He was insane at this point, and fighting him was becoming more of a headache every time.

And then there was Shiro. He stood in front of me now, waiting quietly for the signal to start. His record was nothing short of overwhelming: 135 wins and only 9 losses. The best in the generation by far.

Please, Shiro, I begged silently, don't flip me like Kiyotaka does. That guy had a knack for making me land flat on my butt every time we fought. What a sadist.

Shiro, on the other hand, was unpredictable. I'd fought him twice before—won once, lost once. As for Kiyotaka? I somehow managed to beat him twice in the past, but that was before his freakish adaptability kicked in. At this rate, I was definitely losing to him next time. My poor, non-existent ass.

Thinking about my first fight made me cringe. It was a 1v3 judo match—Randori, as it's called in Japanese—and I'd been utterly crushed. But since that first rotation, I hadn't lost again.

Well, except to Shiro.

He was easily the best at judo among us, and every time I faced him, it felt like he got even sharper. His attacks were relentless and precise, but today, something felt... different.

As we squared off, I noticed Shiro wasn't attacking right away. Instead, he seemed to be taking a more cautious, defensive approach, waiting for me to make the first move.

Was he... smirking?

Oh, no way. He wasn't getting an easy win today.

I welcomed his hesitation. If he wanted to wait and counter, fine. This was my chance to learn how to take the fight to him, to get some real experience fighting an opponent this strong.

I steadied my stance and stepped forward.

Let's see who'd come out on top.

"Begin!"

Me and Shiro circled each other, knowing the other's strengths and weaknesses intimately.

I made the first move, darting in quickly to grip Shiro's gi. I aimed for an inside trip, trying to off-balance him, but Shiro countered smoothly, his hands firm on my sleeves.

He used my momentum against me, attempting a hip throw. I twisted in mid-air, landing on my feet with a cat-like agility, my grip on his gi still intact.

We broke apart briefly, circling again, eyes locked. Shiro lunged, this time feinting a throw and instead sweeping his leg behind me.

I stumbled but didn't fall, using his overextension to execute a swift shoulder throw. Shiro hit the mat with a thud but rolled quickly to his feet dodging the punch to his face, grinning.

"Nice one," he breathed, resetting his stance.

My lips quivered with a small smile, but I stayed focused. I moved in again, this time slower, more calculated. We locked grips, pushing and pulling in a delicate dance of balance and strength.

Shiro attempted another throw, but I already anticipated it, pivoting and dropping to my knees to execute a sacrifice throw. Shiro, caught off guard, went down hard but managed to twist and avoid a pin.