As they left the city and entered a sparsely populated mountain path, the night air grew even colder and sharper.
The pale moonlight pouring down from above penetrated between the leaves, creating mottled shadows on the dirt path.
Three shadows were walking on that path. The sound of footsteps was almost inaudible. The steps of the Breath user and the Servants were quieter than the wind.
At the lead, Ushiwakamaru walked while sensing the surroundings, followed by Okita with her haori fluttering. And between them was Nagao Kanao.
Kanao quietly clutched the talisman she had placed deep in her bosom, closest to her heart, over her clothes.
Each time the rustling texture of the talisman transmitted to her fingertips, a strange sense of relief and warmth simultaneously bloomed in her chest.
'Father's handwriting. Father's scent...'
For her, this talisman was not just a talisman. Unlike the magical talismans made by Tamamo, it was a talisman made by Akira, wishing for good fortune.
It was proof that Akira cherished her, and a token that he trusted her.
Her mind was completely filled with Akira. Even while walking, even while breathing.
In the past, when she was abused by her parents and sold around without even a name. Her heart was like a broken glass bottle.
It could hold nothing, and all the water of emotions leaked out. A colorless world where she couldn't decide anything on her own.
It was Akira who gave color to that gray world.
When he called her name, she was born. When he patted her head, she knew warmth. When he fed her delicious food, she felt happiness.
Therefore, for Kanao, Akira was the entire world, itself.
As the night deepened, they decided to take a rest in a forest clearing. Okita skillfully gathered dry branches and lit a fire.
The burning scarlet flames illuminated the three people's faces.
Kanao was blankly staring at the flames. It seemed as if she was searching for Akira's smile in the flickering fire.
Her gaze was so transparent that it rather carried a blinding light, enough to be eerie.
Ushiwakamaru, who had been staring intently at that sight, broke the silence.
"Kanao-sama."
"...Yes?"
Kanao slowly turned her head. It took a little time for her dreamy expression to return to reality.
"You've been thinking about Master all along, haven't you?"
Ushiwakamaru's point was sharp, but her voice was soft.
Kanao nodded her head shyly but clearly, as if she had no intention of hiding it.
"Yes. I miss... Father."
"Hmm~ As expected, Kanao-san is a filial daughter. If Master knew, he'd be overjoyed to tears, right?"
Okita smiled slyly and threw a joke. But Kanao's expression was serious. She hugged her knees and quietly opened her mouth.
"Filial daughter, daughter... I don't really understand such things."
"Huh? What do you mean by that?"
Okita put down the onigiri she was roasting and tilted her head.
Kanao's gaze turned back to the burning flames. The flames reflected in her pupils flickered like desire.
"I... envy the Kocho sisters. And Mitsuri-san, and Tsubaki-san too."
"Why is that?"
"They... receive kisses from Father. When Father embraces them, his gaze is so very hot. They desire each other, share each other's body heat..."
Kanao quietly pressed her lips with her finger. It was that habit she fidgeted with whenever she looked at Akira.
"I also... want to be like that. It's good that Father pats my head as a daughter... but like the sisters, I want to be loved more deeply, more passionately. I want to become everything to Father, and I want to offer everything of myself to Father."
That was not a child's whim. It was the most primal and pure longing drawn by a soul in a blank state, who had never learned things like the world's morals or ethics.
For her, love as family and love between men and women were not different categories.
It was just one massive lump of emotion: loving Akira, wanting to be loved by Akira.
For her, the highest level of loving Akira was the actions he performed with his lovers.
So, as a daughter, she felt that she should be like that, or wanted to be like that.
"Um... Kanao-san? That's, well... a bit different in meaning."
Okita couldn't hide her flustered expression and broke into a cold sweat.
"Is it different?"
Kanao looked at Okita with an expression of incomprehension.
Her eyes were so clear that Okita couldn't bring herself to say words like incest or immorality.
This father-daughter relationship was also formal, and they weren't even blood-related in the first place. When you think about it, the Kocho sisters were exactly in Kanao's position now.
"My love for Father is not smaller than the sisters' love for Father. It might even be greater. I can die if Father tells me to die, and for Father, I can kill every person in the world. So why should the way of love be different?"
Okita was at a loss for words.
Explaining common sense to this child was as difficult as explaining the colors of the rainbow to a colorblind person.
Kanao's love was already something beyond the category of general common sense, close to a faith.
Then, Ushiwakamaru intervened with a faint smile.
"It is not different."
"Gah! Ushiwakamaru-san! What are you saying!"
Okita was shocked, but Ushiwakamaru paid no mind and looked at Kanao.
"Loyalty towards Master, filial piety towards parents, affection towards a lover. The root of all those is ultimately one. Isn't it the devotion of wanting to offer everything of oneself for the other?"
Ushiwakamaru was a warrior from the Sengoku period. Her ethics were far from modern ones. If Master desired it, or if Master was happy, that was justice.
No, from the start, she was particularly different. She was originally a psychopath.
To the extent that even the non-human tengu, Kiichi Hogen, was fed up with her level of monster. Her twisted emotions were twisted enough to end up being betrayed by her brother.
"Kanao-sama. If that heart of yours is sincere, and if it makes Master smile... then the world's gaze is not important. The love you define is your own answer."
At Ushiwakamaru's words, Kanao's face bloomed brightly. It was a smile full of joy, like a student who had gotten the correct answer.
"Yes...! That's right. Ushiwakamaru-san is correct. If I'm happy and Father is happy, that's all that matters, right?"
Pale moonlight pours down over Kanao's face.
Her usually empty-looking pupils were nowhere to be found.
Her pinkish pupils are now turbid and deeply sunken, like someone with a fever. Her pupils are wide open more than usual, staring intently at the afterimage of Akira in the void.
In that gaze, purity and madness are mixed with only a paper-thin difference, making the viewer shudder.
A color of love that is pure and thus more dangerous, making even the air around her sticky and heavy, envelops her.
"Of course."
"Ah... really... I don't know anymore now."
Okita finally gave up and scratched her head.
As if to shake off complicated thoughts, Okita offered the onigiri on a skewer to Kanao.
"Here, let's eat and build up strength first! To be loved, shouldn't you first pass this Final Selection with top marks and surprise Master?"
"Yes! I will definitely... definitely do it."
After a week's journey from then, the three finally arrived at the entrance of Mount Fujikasane.
From the foothills to the mid-slope, Wisteria flowers bloomed lavishly, defying the season.
The purple flower clouds embroidering the night sky were dreamlike, but behind that beauty hid the cruel purpose of a barrier to confine demons.
"Wisteria... it's the scent demons hate."
Kanao caught a petal with her hand. Since she was human, it had no effect on her, but she turned her gaze, worried about the two Servants beside her.
"Are you okay?"
"Don't worry, Kanao-san. Thanks to Master's evolution, this level of flower scent is no different from perfume."
Okita deliberately took a deep breath of the Wisteria scent and grinned. Ushiwakamaru also had a calm expression.
"Rather, the demons are pitiful. Trapped and starving, they turn on each other or get hunted by clumsy swordsmen..."
Ushiwakamaru's eyes narrowed.
They ascended to a clearing on the mid-slope of the mountain where numerous participants had gathered. A heavy air mixed with tension, fear, and fighting spirit greeted them.
On the platform, the black and white children, guides of the Ubuyashiki family, appeared. They announced the start of the test in a mechanical and monotonous voice.
"From here to the foothills, Wisteria flowers that demons hate bloom all year round."
"However, beyond this point, there are no Wisteria flowers, so demons are present."
"Surviving on this mountain for seven days. That is the passing condition of the Final Selection."
As soon as the guides' words ended, the participants gripped their respective weapons and scattered into the dark forest.
Kanao touched the hilt of her sword. Her gaze had become much deeper and darker than when she left Akira's mansion.
'This test... is a ritual to prove my love towards Father.'
She looked at Okita and Ushiwakamaru standing beside her and nodded slightly.
"Let's go. To claim the victory report to offer to Father."
In the winter of 1910. On a night with purple Wisteria scattering. The Final Selection began.
At the same time, at the mansion in Asakusa. In contrast to the cold night air in the mountains, Akira's bedroom was filled with a warm and sweet fragrance.
Outside the window, the late autumn moon was rising, but inside the room, it was hot as if spring had come.
"Akira-san..."
On the bed, Kanroji Mitsuri, with her unique pink and green hair let loose, burrowed into Akira's embrace.
She was wearing only a thin nightgown, and her voluptuous curves and firm body were fully revealed through the thin fabric.
"I wonder if Kanao-chan and the two have arrived safely?"
Mitsuri asked, pressing her ear against Akira's chest and listening to the thumping heart sound.
In her voice, along with worry, there was subtly mixed the joy of having Akira all to herself at this moment.
Akira stroked Mitsuri's hair with a gentle touch.
"Don't worry. Those kids are strong, aren't they? Especially with Okita and Ushiwakamaru by their side, the demons will be pitiful."
"Hehe, that's right, isn't it? Everyone is strong."
Mitsuri raised her head and looked at Akira. Her large pupils were moist and shining, and both cheeks were flushed red like ripe peaches.
"By the way... Mitsuri. Your scent is particularly good today."
Akira whispered lowly, burying his nose in her nape. Mitsuri's unique sweet body odor, like cherry blossom mochi, tickled his nostrils.
"Ah! Well, for today... I used some cherry blossom bath salts when bathing."
Mitsuri twisted her body as if embarrassed. With her movement, her voluptuous breasts rubbed warmly against Akira's body.
Unlike having muscle density eight times higher than an average person, the texture that touched Akira was soft and warm like marshmallow.
"You're thoroughly prepared. I should give you a reward."
Akira's hand wrapped around Mitsuri's waist and slowly slid inside her nightgown.
"Hng!"
A sweet moan burst from Mitsuri's mouth. Wherever Akira's touch reached, it was hot as if on fire.
She instinctively hugged Akira's neck and pressed closer more deeply.
"Akira-san... love me more."
Mitsuri's gaze was filled with love and flickering.
As a swordsman who uses Love Breathing, she was passionate and devoted even in the act of sharing love.
She wanted to use her overflowing strength and stamina solely to accept her beloved man.
"Alright. Tonight, I'll taste every bit of your lovely body."
The sticky sound of saliva mixing with cherry blossom scent filled the room. Mitsuri tightly hugged Akira's back and reacted violently in tune with his lead.
Her flexible and powerful physical abilities shone even on the bed. She received Akira's intense caresses and movements, who was a perfect being transcending humanity, with her whole body, and returned them just as passionately.
"Haa...♡ Haa...♡ Akira-san, I love you...♡ It feels so good...♡♡♡!"
Rough breathing, the sound of flesh colliding, and moans whispering love resounded through the mansion's master bedroom all night long.
Far away on Mount Fujikasane, the deathly Final Selection of blood and steel clashing had begun, but here, a joyous ritual of life and love exploding was being held.
Akira looked down at Mitsuri, who was writhing in pleasure and dyed red like cherry blossoms beneath him, and suddenly remembered his adopted daughter who had left far away.
'Kanao. She must be suffering in the cold mountains by now.'
He had no idea in his dreams that the feelings Kanao held for him were something beyond simple filial piety.
He just found it admirable and lovely that the pitiful child he saved from darkness was following him.
'Still, with your strength and Okita and Ushiwakamaru, nothing should happen. I just want to live together harmoniously at home. I want to see you again soon in good health.'
Akira, with the heart of a father praying for his daughter's safe journey, and now the heart of a husband, focused again on the lover before him. The night was long, and the cherry blossoms blooming in his embrace were extremely hot.