It was Yoriichi who, after turning once more, noticed the dazed Rengoku Tetsushiro. He halted his movements and nodded toward him.
"Mr. Rengoku."
Rengoku Tetsushiro finally came to his senses. He stepped forward, his voice brimming with excitement.
"What... what an incredible technique! Truly worthy of Mr. Yoriichi!"
"No, it's nothing worthy of praise." Yoriichi sheathed his sword and walked toward him. "Just a bit of self-training to pass the time."
"You're far too modest! Only Swordsmen who have mastered the Breathing Styles to their utmost can manifest the form of a technique when they strike. Your sword form was truly beautiful!"
Rengoku's excitement nearly overwhelmed his words. "Even from a distance, I could feel the power it carried! So magnificent! Even after your lessons in the Breathing Styles, I've only managed to create four sword forms! And when I use them, they lack your seamless beauty!
May I record this? Please, allow me to capture it! It would be such a shame if such a marvelous technique were witnessed only by me!"
Yoriichi seemed taken aback by Rengoku's enthusiasm, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"It doesn't seem necessary... it's just an ordinary sword technique."
"No, please! Allow me to record it!"
Yoriichi, who hadn't retreated even in front of Muzan Kibutsuji, instinctively stepped back. His hand gripping the scabbard was damp with sweat—he was never good at dealing with people.
"If Mr. Rengoku doesn't mind..."
"Of course not! It was absolutely breathtaking! That sword technique was so dazzlingly beautiful I almost forgot to breathe!"
"What sword technique..."
"Hiru!" Yoriichi, as if finding salvation, quickly turned to the box beside him. "You're awake."
"It's the sword technique Mr. Yoriichi uses with his Breathing Style!" Rengoku said eagerly, carrying a food box as he approached. "It was sacred! Beautiful! Unparalleled!"
Hiru blinked, his mind slowly clearing. He reached out and tugged at Yoriichi's pant leg, looking up.
"Big brother, I want to see it too."
"But there's really nothing worth seeing..."
Faced with two expectant gazes, Yoriichi couldn't bring himself to refuse. He sighed softly, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, helpless smile.
"Alright."
Hiru watched as Yoriichi returned to the open space, quickly climbing onto a box. His viewpoint was too low to see clearly, but there was no time to change clothes and grow taller now—wait.
A sudden weightlessness lifted him off the ground. Startled, Hiru turned around and met Rengoku Tetsushiro's fiery orange-red eyes.
"Mr. Rengoku?"
"From that height, you won't be able to truly appreciate the beauty of his sword technique!" Rengoku said as he placed Hiru on his shoulders. "If you don't mind, watch from up here!"
Hiru gripped Rengoku's collar, hesitated for a moment, then lowered his head.
"...Thank you."
Thank you for your help—and for your trust.
"It's nothing. Hurry, look! He's starting!"
Hiru quickly lifted his gaze, eyes fixed intently on Yoriichi.
The weight of those fiery eyes watching him made Yoriichi a bit uneasy, but it didn't affect his grip. Adjusting his breathing, he swung his sword.
A brilliant, flame-shaped Form flared once more in the open space.
When Yoriichi finally sheathed his blade and walked toward them, Hiru snapped out of his trance, clapping hard with eyes shining in admiration.
"So cool! You looked just like a fire god out there, big brother!"
"Indeed! I couldn't agree more!" Rengoku called from the shadows of the corridor, his voice booming with excitement. "Even watching it a second time, it's still so overwhelming! Forgive me for asking, but I still couldn't tell—how many sword forms did you use, Mr. Yoriichi? Could you tell me?"
"How many sword forms?" Yoriichi paused. "I only used one technique."
"That dazzling move was just one technique?!" Hiru's eyes widened. "Big brother, don't tease me just because I don't understand swordsmanship—Mr. Rengoku's here too!"
"No, truly just one," Yoriichi said, shaking his head. "But that single technique includes twelve distinct movements."
"Ah, I see! So that makes thirteen forms!" Rengoku stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Thirteen sword forms... that single technique, as you call it, must be something only someone as strong as you could perform!
Even with my sharp eyes, I could only discern six movements! Truly worthy of the first Breath Swordsman—how powerful! I can feel my blood boiling already!"
"Yeah!" Hiru nodded vigorously, leaping from Rengoku's shoulder onto the box. "Maybe my blood isn't boiling like that, but I feel just as amazed! You're incredible, big brother!"
"Mr. Yoriichi! I'll leave the food here! I can't wait to start recording all this!"
As Rengoku hurried off, Hiru cupped his hands around his mouth to shout after him.
"Mr. Rengoku! Please send me some art supplies too! I want to draw a picture of my brother!"
Rengoku was already out of sight, but his voice echoed back clearly.
"No problem!"
"Hiru, that's not necessary..."
"But big brother, you looked so cool just now!" Hiru clenched his fists, his eyes shining. "It was like the Fire God himself had descended to earth! It'd be such a waste if only Mr. Rengoku and I saw it! You're so dazzling—everyone should know it!"
Yoriichi sat down beside the box, his expression faintly shy. "But..."
"I already thought of a name for the painting!" Hiru slid closer to him, sitting beside him on the edge of the box. He raised his hands, miming a sword grip. "Scorching Sun Swordsman! How about it? Sounds amazing, right?
And from the battle with Muzan, I've got a perfect red pigment! It's so vivid it'll make the painting glow without any extra effort!
Ahh~ I can't wait! I wonder when Mr. Rengoku will bring the canvas and paper!"
Listening to Hiru's nonstop chatter, Yoriichi's expression softened. He couldn't resist reaching out to gently ruffle Hiru's hair.
"Brother?"
"Nothing. I just felt like doing that."
Yoriichi smiled, then lifted Hiru onto his shoulders. With one hand carrying the box and the other holding the food container, he said, "Let's go back inside."
...
After finishing his meal and tidying up, Yoriichi sat while Hiru—now in his teenage form—lay sprawled on the tatami, fully dressed and grumbling.
"Why hasn't the drawing board arrived yet..."
Just then, an unexpected visitor appeared.
"Mr. Iwayuki? Please, come in."
Hiru lifted his head and waved. "Long time no see. But wasn't Mr. Rengoku supposed to bring the art supplies?"
The tall, short-haired Swordsman nodded, holding a bundle of drawing tools.
"Mr. Rengoku said he was busy recording sword techniques and asked the Kakushi of the Fujino household to deliver these instead. But the Kakushi seemed afraid of Mr. Hiru's presence and didn't dare to come. Since I happened to arrive nearby, I took it upon myself."
"Eh—" Hiru sat up, pouting. "What's with those guys? I don't eat people, you know."