Rengoku Kyojuro shoveled mouthful after mouthful of rice into his mouth, stuffing it full—as if doing so could choke back the emotions surging inside him.
Was it grief?
Pain?
Loss?
…All of it.
And yet… what could he do?
No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he grieved—what would change?
What could he, Rengoku Kyojuro, possibly change?
In the end… it was simply because he, as a senior, as a Hashira, wasn't strong enough.
If—just if—there were a place he could hide, somewhere he could escape everything… he might have crawled into it without hesitation.
But he couldn't.
No matter how much it hurt, no matter how hard the blow—he had to grit his teeth and endure.
Rengoku understood that even if he cried his heart out, even if he cursed the world at the top of his lungs… time wouldn't stop for him.
As a Hashira—as someone others looked up to—
He had to be strong.
Even if being strong… was unbearably difficult.
As he continued eating, a gentle figure seemed to appear in his mind—someone who had once looked at him with warmth, who had stroked his head when he was a child, when he felt lost, when he felt hurt.
Mother… can I really do this? Can I truly carry this responsibility? Can I really do everything that's expected of me?
Another mouthful of rice.
Then another.
Only after finishing every last grain did Rengoku stand up.
There was another mission waiting for him.
No matter how much he grieved, no matter how much it hurt—he could not fall. As a Hashira, as a senior, he had to shoulder that responsibility.
"My injuries… they're fine now, right?"
He looked at Shinobu Kocho, a bright, sunlike smile already returning to his face—as if he had once again become that blazing, passionate man.
As if the death of a junior hadn't dimmed the flames within him at all.
"As long as you avoid strenuous activity for a few days, you should recover soon," Shinobu replied softly.
"I see."
Rengoku said no more. He picked up the Nichirin Sword resting on the table and walked out.
Shinobu remained seated, watching his figure disappear into the distance. She poured herself a small cup of sake and murmured under her breath:
"I really want to… kill every last demon."
…
"Come eat."
Soma called out as he finished roasting the bear paw, glancing toward Kanao, who was still methodically swinging her blade at the dead tree.
"U-Uncle… just a little longer!"
The girl gripped the Nichirin Sword with both hands, teeth clenched. She raised it again and brought it down with all her strength.
Wood chips flew.
"Three more strikes."
After the swing, Kanao lowered the sword and looked back at her uncle by the fire, gasping for air. "J-just a little more!"
She took a deep breath, tightened her grip, and swung again with everything she had.
"Two."
"One."
"Huff…"
Finally—
She finished.
After completing all one hundred strikes, Kanao collapsed onto the ground, her strength completely spent.
By the fire, Soma watched in silence, making no move to help her up.
A moment later, Kanao forced herself back to her feet. Even though every step was heavy, she still made her way over and sat down beside him.
Soma handed her a portion of the cut bear meat, along with a cup of hot water.
Though she felt like she might collapse at any moment, Kanao still accepted it, lowering her head as she took small bites.
"I did it."
She spoke softly between bites.
"Uncle… I finished all a hundred strikes."
"…Mm."
Soma gave a quiet acknowledgment—and nothing more.
"When can I... go and cut people with Uncle?" Kanao lifted her head, looking straight at Soma.
"That's a long way off."
His answer was vague—almost dismissive. In truth, he didn't want her to continue down this path at all.
"Is it still a long way off?"
Kanao lowered her gaze, her pink-violet eyes dimming slightly.
"When will it be enough… a thousand strikes? Ten thousand? How many do I need before it's enough?"
Soma glanced at her, but said nothing. "Finish eating. Then rest."
After a moment, he reached out and patted her head.
"I… I still want to practice," Kanaho murmured.
"Do as you like."
He withdrew his hand. "If you insist on making things hard for yourself, I'm not going to stop you."
"It's not hard."
Kanao pressed her lips together, her gaze unwavering.
Soma didn't reply. He picked up a piece of firewood and tossed it into the flames. The fire flared brighter at once.
After finishing her meal, Kanao picked up the Nichirin Sword again and resumed training.
At first, Soma thought she would stop after a while—once she got tired.
But she didn't.
She kept going.
For a long time… far longer than he expected.
Until she could barely stand.
Until her arms trembled so badly she could hardly grip the sword.
And finally—
She collapsed, sitting there weakly, completely drained.
"Rest."
At some point, Soma had already walked up behind her. He placed a hand on her back, gently patting it. His lips pressed into a thin line.
Kanao looked up at him. "Uncle…"
"Mm?"
"…Am I useless? I can't even train properly…"
"No, you're not."
"Then… when will I be able to go cut people with you?"
"There is no need for that."
"There is a need." She looked at him stubbornly.
"…You don't need to get involved in this." He let out a quiet sigh.
"Why?"
"Because I'm a demon… and you're human. If you stand on my side, you'll be against everyone else."
He paused.
"It's not worth it."
"…I don't understand."
"You don't need to. It's enough that I understand."
Soma ruffled her hair. "Rest now. You're completely worn out."
Kanao wanted to keep going—but she truly had no strength left.
Soma bent down and gently picked her up, carrying her to the resting spot he had prepared.
It wasn't much.
Just a layer of soft, dried grass spread across the ground.
For warmth, only some clothes he had dried by the fire.
The best he could do… was keep the fire burning strong, so the cold wouldn't bite as much.
After laying her down, he turned, intending to add more wood to the fire.
"Uncle…"
Before he could take a step, her soft voice stopped him again.
He turned back.
Kanao was looking at him, her pink-violet eyes clear and open.
"What is it?"
"Can you… hold me?"
Soma hesitated for a moment… then bent down and gave her a gentle embrace.
After a brief pause, he started to pull away.
"Please… hold me a little longer."
Her small arms wrapped around his neck, her voice barely above a whisper. "I never want to be separated from Uncle like I was today, ever again."
"I was so scared..."
Soma opened his mouth, wanting to say something—
But at some point, the girl had already closed her eyes.
Only her long lashes trembled softly with each quiet breath.
He fell silent, simply watching her.
...
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