At a certain Japan Self-Defense Forces garrison—
"Attention!"
At the command, a row of men in camouflage snapped their backs straight.
Their faces, though, didn't look Japanese at all—blond, red, even blue hair glinted in the sunlight.
Naturally. They were isekai visitors.
Summoned without warning, these knights had caused a hostage incident before being subdued by the Prime Minister and the Emperor themselves.
After weeks of chaos, they were released without charges.
The next question was what to do with them.
After heated debate, the Prime Minister suggested, "Why not let them experience basic training with the Self-Defense Forces?"
And so their fate was sealed.
They were soldiers, after all.
Some still wanted to serve as soldiers.
Besides, for foreigners adjusting to Japan's love of group order, a bit of military discipline couldn't hurt.
One young lawmaker proposed sending them to school instead, but since every knight was somewhere between adult and middle-aged man, that idea was quietly dropped.
* * *
"Nice to meet you. I'm First Lieutenant Ikuta, in charge of this temporary training unit," the officer said with a polite bow.
"You'll have many questions—about the JSDF and everything else—so please ask freely."
The knights exchanged puzzled looks.
What a humble commander.
And so young.
In their world, leaders barked orders and expected obedience.
Still, they assumed this must be the local custom.
(For the record, Ikuta was already forty.
Foreigners often call a forty-year-old Japanese man "a liar" when he admits his age.)
* * *
"Next, Sergeant Iwaki will handle field instruction," Ikuta continued.
The moment Iwaki appeared, the knights' eyes sharpened.
Even under the uniform, his build screamed muscle. His smile was friendly, his gaze sharp—a warrior through and through.
A proper instructor, they decided.
"Since this is your first day," he said, "we'll begin with a basic fitness assessment."
"Oh?"
A fair test of strength.
Good. They'd show these people what knights of another world could do.
"First, push-ups."
* * *
The test began—and immediately turned chaotic.
"Your hands are too wide."
"It's fine, isn't it!?"
"Back too high. Keep the body straight."
"Grr... then like this!?"
"Your chin didn't touch. No count."
"What!?"
The Japan Ground Self-Defense Force in a nutshell: methodical to the point of rigidity.
The knights groaned and protested as instructors corrected every detail.
Even so, they all cleared the JSDF's minimum standards.
Impressive.
"Excellent," said Iwaki with a grin. "Most new recruits can't even pass these days."
The knights stared at him in awe—and fear.
While they'd been grinding through their two-minute push-up test, Iwaki had been demonstrating perfect form the entire time.
He'd done twice their number without breaking a sweat.
What is this creature? Is he even human? the knights wondered.
* * *
"Next up, sit-ups," Iwaki announced.
What followed hardly needs explanation—the same pattern repeated.
"Sergeant Iwaki's glowing," one instructor whispered.
"He's ex-ranger. Total stamina monster."
"Let's just hope the knights don't think every JSDF soldier's like him."
And so the first day of training continued, muscles trembling, pride wounded—but spirits oddly high.
As Sergeant Iwaki drilled the knights to exhaustion, other members of the Self-Defense Forces watched with wry amusement.
"Well, that's Iwaki for you."
The JSDF isn't full of monsters, but it has its share—and Iwaki is one of them.
* * *
Meanwhile, in Takamagahara—
Japan's oldest yandere sister had finally calmed down.
Once she understood that summoning the knights to topple a corrupt king had actually benefited humanity, Izanami-sama let it go—mostly.
She then returned to Yomi as gracefully as she had arrived.
Sure, Izanagi once sealed Yomi with a giant boulder, but that was removed long ago. Bureaucracy works even in heaven.
"...Father wouldn't stay in Yomi forever if I kicked him down there, right?"
"That's a cruel thing to say, elder sister," Tsukuyomi replied quietly.
After so many lectures, Amaterasu-sama's trauma ran deep.
Plotting to exile her own father showed she truly took after her mother.
She usually bottled things up, which made her explosions worse than Izanami's.
* * *
"Come on, Mother's gone. Let's drink," said Susanoo.
"...Yeah. Let's drink. Then pass out," Amaterasu muttered.
"Again? You've been drinking a lot lately," Tsukuyomi sighed.
Apparently, gods cope the same way humans do—with alcohol.
Amaterasu's shoulders sagged, and her divine glow looked... smoky.
* * *
"Party leader Ame-no-Uzume has arrived...!"
Just as the sake was poured and the snacks were set, another goddess burst in.
She wasn't a star deity, despite the sparkly punctuation in her speech.
"Tsukuyomi," said Amaterasu flatly. "Call Sarutahiko."
"Yes."
"Wait, wait! Why so cold, Amaterasu-sama!? Tsukuyomi-sama!?"
The intruder—hyperactive and overly affectionate—was none other than Ame-no-Uzume-no-Mikoto, goddess of revelry and Japan's oldest stripper (and wife).
* * *
"I just want a quiet drink today. No performances," Amaterasu pleaded.
"My, such a gloomy mood. But that makes you even more alluring..."
"Don't. Come closer. I don't swing that way!"
Amaterasu pushed the clingy goddess away.
Tsukuyomi muttered something that sounded like "Kimashi Tower,"
and Susanoo pretended not to hear it.
(T/N: Kimashi Tower, slang from otaku culture for a yuri (girl-x-girl))
"Don't lie, Amaterasu-sama. You were staring when I danced naked, weren't you?"
"I thought you were some amazing goddess! I wasn't staring at your body!?"
Amaterasu blushed and shouted, which only made it worse.
Tsukuyomi's quiet aura grew intense, and even Susanoo looked terrified.
"Well then, let's test that theory. I'll just strip again..."
"Wha—!? Help! Mother, save meee!"
And so, the Supreme Deity of Japan faced the gravest of divine dangers: yuri.
If Amaterasu locked herself away again, the sun wouldn't rise.
If Tsukuyomi got too excited, the moon might never set.
Japan's tomorrow was in genuine peril.
* * *
"Pardon the disturbance," said a calm voice.
Moments later, Ame-no-Uzume was subdued by her husband, Sarutahiko-no-Okami, who had rushed in at divine speed.
Amaterasu's chastity was saved—though Tsukuyomi looked slightly disappointed.
"Let me go! It's a banquet! I haven't even started stripping yet!"
"You're not stripping. Period."
Sarutahiko hefted his wife onto his shoulder. He looked entirely used to this.
"If you're that eager to undress, do it where only I can see," he murmured.
"Oh, dear..."
And just like that, the divine couple left in good spirits.
* * *
"...Riajuu should explode," Amaterasu muttered darkly.
The curse of the Supreme Deity rippled across Japan.
Couples all over the nation did spontaneously "explode"—not fatally, just dramatically enough to make headlines.
By morning, everyone had moved on. As usual, peace returned.
For now.