Night had settled over Mount Sagiri, and the mist rose thick and unyielding.
Though the mountain wind stirred restlessly, it could not disperse the fog that clung stubbornly to the slopes. Wrapped in that hazy veil, Makomo stood atop the great boulder, her gaze fixed on the figure of the man as he gradually disappeared from view.
The words she had wanted to say… the words she had almost said… the courage she had finally gathered—
All of it had been cut off so easily by him.
Had she truly never understood him?
Was the person she saw… not as good as she had imagined?
And those feelings she had almost spoken aloud—were they really what her heart believed?
…
Even she couldn't answer those questions clearly.
She only knew that he felt… different. Special, in a way she couldn't quite explain. Being around him made her feel at ease, even happy.
As for what he had mentioned—anger, deception, hatred…
Those were things she simply couldn't comprehend. Perhaps, just as he had said, she didn't truly know him yet.
Or perhaps, if she ever came to understand him fully, she might discover that he wasn't who she thought he was at all.
But even so… would that really lead to anger? To hatred?
No matter how long she thought about it, Makomo couldn't find a single reason why she would ever come to hate him.
And yet, regardless of everything… she had been rejected.
The realization left her mood far from bright.
She leapt down lightly from the boulder and turned her attention to the markings carved upon it. Some were old, some new—the clearest among them being the one she had left behind before departing for Mount Fujikasane.
Back then, she had believed that she might never return, just like her fellow disciples… just like Sabito.
In truth, if not for that final moment—if not for him cutting through the Hand Demon's neck, which had been as hard as stone—she would have remained on Mount Fujikasane forever, just like the others. And her teacher would have once again received nothing more than a brief letter of bad news, delivered by a Kasugai crow.
"I'm back."
Makomo bowed slightly toward the great boulder before her, her voice soft but steady. "And now I understand the reason why no one has returned all these years."
The mountain wind swept through, tousling her hair into disarray.
She stood there, staring at the boulder in silence before continuing, "I will keep walking the path of slaying demons… and I will fulfill the wishes all of you couldn't."
As she spoke, a small smile appeared on her lips.
"Today, thanks to him, Sensei finally seemed to move on… I had been wondering how to help him let go of his guilt, but he managed it so easily. He really is amazing. If everyone were still here… seeing Sensei smile like that… they would've been happy too."
Her voice softened into a quiet murmur.
She had once been an orphan, her future nothing but darkness. It was her teacher who took her in and brought her to Mount Sagiri, where she finally found warmth—care from her fellow disciples, and Sabito, whom she had always treated like a younger brother.
Training had been harsh, but no one ever complained. Those days had been filled with a simple, undeniable happiness. Even now, when she thought back on them, it felt as though the air itself carried that warmth.
But after her seniors began leaving for the Final Selection on Mount Fujikasane—and never returning—everything changed.
At some point, the laughter faded.
The air on Mount Sagiri grew heavier, weighed down by unspoken grief.
Each year, after the selection, one more familiar face would disappear.
Until… only she and her beloved teacher remained.
Once, she had been alone. Then she found happiness—only to lose it all again so easily.
That emptiness, that lingering sorrow… only she truly understood it.
And so, she had trained relentlessly.
She honed her speed, pushed her mastery of Water Breathing to greater heights, and though unease lingered in her heart, she stepped onto Mount Fujikasane with confidence.
But when she truly faced the Hand Demon, she realized—
She wasn't strong enough.
The memory surfaced unbidden: the moment her blade struck the demon's neck, only to be met with utter despair. That overwhelming sense of helplessness… it was something she never wanted to experience again.
Her small hand clenched unconsciously into a fist.
The wind brushed past her, carrying the cold dampness of the mist as it pressed against her pale skin, leaving behind a biting chill.
"Why are you still here?"
Through the haze, a man's gentle voice suddenly echoed.
The wind no longer felt quite as biting.
Instead, it carried only a faint chill, cool but gentle against the skin. Makomo lifted a hand and lightly wiped at the corner of her eyes before hurrying toward the source of the voice.
The mist was thick, obscuring everything—but as she drew closer, a figure gradually emerged from within it.
There he was, waiting.
Through the hazy veil, the man's tall silhouette fell into her gaze. After losing so many important people in her life, she had once believed that only her most beloved teacher and the ever-crying Tomioka Giyu remained by her side. And yet, somehow, without her realizing it, someone else had entered her life—someone she wanted to protect.
Looking at that figure, she couldn't help but recall all the people she had lost before, slipping from her grasp while she stood powerless to stop it. A faint mist gathered again at the corners of her eyes, but this time, there was resolve within it.
"Soma-san..."
"What is it?" Soma asked, a hint of confusion in his voice as he looked at her.
Makomo lowered her head slightly. Hidden behind her mask, her expression couldn't be seen—but it was likely one of quiet disappointment.
Still… he couldn't really be blamed for that. Refusing her had been the right choice. She might not realize it now, but given enough time, she would inevitably notice something strange about him. And the closer she grew to him, the more likely she would uncover the truth.
Soma couldn't even begin to imagine what she would feel when she discovered he was a demon.
Or worse—when she learned that he had killed people she once knew.
That realization… would not be a pleasant one.
As these thoughts passed through his mind, he watched the girl standing before him. At that moment, Makomo lifted her head, her clear, beautiful eyes meeting his.
"Soma-san, I wanted to say… you…"
She hesitated, her voice faltering.
"Could you… not disappear so suddenly?"
Soma blinked, momentarily caught off guard, not fully understanding.
"Don't… disappear like my fellow disciples… like Sabito…" she added, finally managing to say it clearly.
A brief silence followed.
Soma looked at the masked girl, then turned his head slightly, giving a casual shrug as if to lighten the mood. "I won't disappear that easily."
After saying that, he gestured lightly. "It's late. You should head back, Miss Makomo."
"…Mm."
Makomo nodded. As Soma began to walk, she followed silently behind him.
The mountain breeze brushed past them, cool and damp, making Makomo instinctively draw in slightly, her body shrinking against the chill.
Walking ahead, Soma glanced back and noticed the subtle movement. Shaking his head, he reached up and removed his outer coat, draping it over her shoulders.
Makomo, who had been walking with her head lowered, suddenly felt the added weight—and then the warmth that followed. Startled, she looked up, realizing what he had done.
"Aren't you cold, Soma-san?"
He let out a soft laugh. "I'm not as fragile as a lady."
"I'm not that weak either," she protested, puffing her cheeks slightly in quiet defiance.
"Then… give it back," Soma said, stepping forward as if to take the coat off her.
"W-wait… no!"
Makomo immediately darted aside with nimble steps, avoiding him.
Of course, Soma hadn't truly intended to take it back. After a half-hearted feint, he simply continued walking ahead.
Clutching the coat around herself, Makomo quickly caught up, walking beside him.
"Thank you for today," she said softly. "If you hadn't spoken to Sensei… then he might have…"
"Haven't you already thanked me once?" Soma replied with a faint smile.
"That's true… but thanking you again doesn't hurt," she said, her voice carrying a hint of playful innocence beneath the mask.
Before long, they reached the house halfway up the mountain. The place was dark, with no light shining from within.
"You should go in," Soma said, glancing at it before speaking to her.
"Mm."
Makomo nodded, sneaking one last glance at him before slowly stepping forward to open the door.
But when she reached the entrance, she stopped.
Turning back, she looked at him again.
The mountain wind stirred her hair, sending soft strands drifting through the air, while in her bright, shimmering eyes… his tall figure was reflected clearly.
"It's very late. Um... Soma-san, would you like to come in and sit for a while?"
Her voice was soft—almost ethereal—and carried a gentle, pleasing tone. Beneath it lingered a faint, unspoken hint of youthful shyness, like a quiet invitation wrapped in innocence.
Soma glanced toward the neighboring room where Urokodaki was resting, then lifted his eyes to the pitch-dark night. A lone girl's room, a late-night invitation… even the air itself seemed to stir with the subtle, restless emotions of youth.
"…No."
He shook his head.
Makomo let out a small laugh. "I didn't expect you to refuse."
She raised a hand, brushing aside a few stray strands of hair from her forehead.
Soma smiled faintly and gestured toward the adjacent room. "If I agreed, I'm afraid Urokodaki-san would wake up immediately and come over to chase me out."
"Haha, you guessed right," Makomo replied, her laughter light and melodious. "Sensei always says a girl shouldn't let boys into her room so easily. If you really came in, he'd probably break your legs."
"Is that so?" Soma rubbed his nose, then looked at her standing just inside the doorway. "You should get some rest."
"Alright."
Makomo nodded and turned to go inside—but just as she was about to step in, she paused. Turning back, she looked at him again.
"Are you sure you won't reconsider? Maybe… Sensei is already asleep."
Soma didn't hesitate this time. "No."
There was a faint trace of disappointment as she turned away again, reaching to close the door.
"Wait."
Just as the door was about to shut, his voice rang out again.
Behind the mask, Makomo's cheeks flushed slightly, though she forced herself to look up, masking her embarrassment with a teasing tone. "What? Aren't you afraid Sensei might still be awake?"
"That's not it." Soma shook his head and pointed at her shoulders. "You should return my coat."
Makomo froze for a moment, her face growing even warmer. Then, almost as if venting her frustration, she hastily pulled off the coat and tossed it toward him before slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
"Good night," Soma said with a faint smile as he caught the coat. Without lingering, he turned and walked away.
After a while, the door creaked open just a sliver.
From behind it, a pair of bright, beautiful eyes peered out from beneath the fox mask, quietly watching his tall figure as it faded into the moonlit mist.
Only after he had disappeared completely did the corners of her lips lift ever so slightly.
Then, at last, she turned back inside to rest.
...
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