Yoriichi and Hiru finally made it to Chuubu County before the New Year. It was a quiet, peaceful little town. Yoriichi found an inn to stay in, bought new painting supplies before the shops closed, and then, on New Year's Eve, he checked out. Accompanied by Hiru—who had taken on his adult form again—they set off together toward Mount Ryuu.
"Ah, it's been ages since we last walked together like this, Brother!" Hiru compared their heights with an exaggerated look of focus. "Hmm, you're still a bit taller than me. You're supposed to be shrinking by now as an old man, you know."
"As your elder brother, I should be taller so I can shield you from the wind and rain, shouldn't I?"
Hiru froze for a moment, then broke into a wide grin. "Haha, so you can joke around now? Looks like all my years of effort finally paid off!"
"Yes." Yoriichi reached out and ruffled Hiru's hair gently. "You've really worked hard."
"It's nothing special," Hiru replied, carrying his easel as he followed Yoriichi step by step. "Honestly, these past ten years, even without a seal, I don't get hungry at the sight of human blood anymore. In fact, it doesn't just fail to tempt me—it actually makes me queasy.
Ah, but I still crave Rare Blood a little. What does that say about me? That I've developed refined tastes?"
He laughed as he spoke, but the brightness in his eyes quickly dimmed. "Maybe it's because I've been researching the transformation potion. With constant exposure, the wisteria's effects have grown weaker. These past few years, even drinking it directly doesn't burn anymore.
I'm drifting further away from humanity. Still, even though I've made no progress on the transformation potion, at least I've gained a deep understanding of demons. But the more I study their bodies, the more confused I become—such powerful abilities, such faint emotions, feeding on their own kind...
Everything in this world has a reason for existing. But what about demons? What purpose does their existence serve? Or rather, what idea brought demons into this world to begin with?"
"Perhaps the one who created demons did so out of good intentions," Yoriichi said softly, lifting his gaze to the bright moonlight. A faint breath of white mist escaped his lips. "But perhaps he underestimated the complexity of the human heart."
"Who knows..." Hiru quickened his pace and stepped in front of Yoriichi, grinning. "Hey, Brother! Let's race to the mountaintop! The loser has to grant the winner one wish! What do you say? Come on, let's race!"
Yoriichi sighed and shook his head. "We're both decades old. Don't you think this is a bit childish?"
"Come on, come on! Please!"
"Alright, you go ahead." Yoriichi's eyes softened slightly. "I'll catch up soon."
"You said it, Brother! No backing out if you lose!"
No sooner had Hiru finished speaking than he dashed forward, his figure vanishing into the dense forest ahead.
Yoriichi maintained his steady pace—perhaps even slowing a little.
[Would Hiru run away?]
[If only he would.]
[Please... just run away.]
The thought disgusted him, yet he couldn't deny it. He didn't want to see Hiru disappear before his eyes. He wasn't as strong as he pretended to be; he had never truly believed he could slay Hiru. And even now, he still needed Hiru to bring up the idea himself.
[Please, Hiru, run away.]
[Even if it means living on as a demon, don't make me witness your death...]
But no matter how slowly Yoriichi walked, the mountaintop remained fixed ahead—inevitable, inescapable.
By the time he arrived, the moon had already begun to sink westward. Hiru had set up his easel and even chopped down a tree to fashion a simple chair.
"Looks like you've really gotten old, Brother. Making me wait this long just to climb a little hill," Hiru teased, sitting on the log with a smile. He gestured toward another nearby stump. "Good thing I came prepared. Come sit here and rest, Brother."
Yoriichi silently took the seat beside him. He watched quietly, sorrow clouding his eyes, as Hiru arranged his paints and looked toward the distant peak, smiling faintly.
"The stars are so bright tonight. Tomorrow's going to be a clear day. Looks like we'll get to see that legendary sunrise."
"Mm... yes."
"But since you lost, you have to promise me one thing!" Hiru turned toward him, eyes gleaming. "No backing out!"
"Alright." Yoriichi stood and walked over to Hiru's side. "Tell me what it is. I'll do it."
"Then remember this—after I'm gone, don't come looking for me too soon." Hiru's gaze drifted away from Yoriichi, settling on the distant silhouette of Mount Fuji. "If I see you too soon, it'll mean you don't value yourself. I'd be angry then. And if you make me angry, I'll never speak to you again."
Yoriichi was silent for a long time before he answered. "...Alright. I'll remember."
"Good." Hiru nodded, then pointed toward the wooden stump closer to the cliff's edge. "Go sit there, Brother. I want to draw you into the painting."
Yoriichi quietly followed his instructions, sitting with his back to Hiru and facing the horizon.
"Mm-hmm. The Sun Swordsman bathed in the first light of the New Year—what a perfect composition! It'll make a fine final masterpiece." Hiru smiled as the sky began to pale, then lifted his brush. "I know you can't bear to do it, so don't look back.
With your kindness, you might not let me finish this piece if you do."
Yoriichi lowered his head, his hands tightening unconsciously. "Hiru, I..."
"Haha, if you say any more, I might waver," Hiru said softly. He could see the veins standing out on Yoriichi's hands. His own expression grew sad, though his tone stayed light. "It'd be troublesome if I ran away now, wouldn't it?"
As the horizon brightened, tears spilled silently from Yoriichi's eyes. "I'm sorry, Hiru... I'm sorry..."
"I've been telling you for decades—don't make me repeat myself," Hiru murmured, his voice tinged with quiet exasperation. Still, his hand never paused as it moved across the canvas. "You've never done anything wrong, Brother. There's nothing to apologize for."
Black ink spread across the paper, forming endless mountain ranges and the upright figure of a white-haired swordsman. A blazing red Slayer Mark burned on his temple. Though his face was indistinct, it radiated a gentle warmth.
For some reason, though, there was a glimmer of tears at the corner of the swordsman's eyes as he gazed toward the mountain peak, where the first light of the New Year was about to rise—adding a quiet sorrow to the scene.
Hiru looked at the expanse of blank paper still remaining and slowly wrote a few lines beside the painting.
[This painting is dedicated to my elder brother. May his remaining years be peaceful and bright, may he remain as radiant as ever, and may he no longer be bound by the past.]
[Respectfully presented by Yomi-sensei—his final and last work.]
Just then, the dawn broke over the mountain crest, sunlight gleaming off the eternal snow in dazzling brilliance.
Hiru watched the sunrise he loved most, one last time. But as the sunlight touched him, his body began to burn, dark scorch marks spreading across his skin. Still, he turned his gaze toward the swordsman—the man who had spent his life slaying demons, yet remained endlessly gentle and kind.
"Goodbye, Brother."