"I never intended to eat her."
Soma spoke softly, his voice calm yet unwavering, as though the words themselves carried a quiet, immovable resolve.
"Who would believe that?" Akaza shook his head, a trace of scorn flickering in his gaze. "If not for that, then why keep a human girl like her by your side?"
"Why must there be a reason?" Soma replied, his tone still even, almost indifferent. "Isn't it the same as your pursuit of strength? Must everything have a why?"
"Seeking strength is because—"
Akaza opened his mouth, ready to refute him on instinct, yet the words faltered before they could fully form. For a fleeting moment, he found himself searching inward, only to realize that no clear answer came.
Why did he seek strength?
Why?
There seemed to be no reason at all.
And so, if there was no reason for his own relentless pursuit, then perhaps there was no reason needed for Soma to keep a human girl by his side. Strange as it might appear—a demon harboring a human—it was no more peculiar than many other things that existed in this world, where far stranger demons roamed.
While they spoke, Kanao continued practicing in silence.
Yet before long, her movements began to slow.
Unlike demons, humans grew thirsty, grew weary; they could not move endlessly without rest. Where demons knew no fatigue, Kanao, after only a short while, was forced to stop, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps.
"You see?" Akaza said, halting his own movements as his gaze fell upon her. "This is what humans are like—their limitations are suffocating. Even their training is bound by time. And beyond that, the body itself is shackled. Once it reaches a certain threshold, no amount of effort will push it further. Worse still, as they age, they begin to decline."
He clenched his fist slightly, as though grasping at something intangible.
"But demons are different. The moment one becomes a demon, the body surpasses the very limits humans strive for all their lives."
His lips curled faintly, his eyes shifting toward Soma, filled with open mockery.
"And that's merely the lowest tier—something like you."
To Akaza, weak demons were beneath contempt. And yet, somewhere deep within him, there lingered an inexplicable sensation—a faint pull, as though something important lay just beyond his grasp, something that might surface if he drew closer to this peculiar demon before him. But no matter how he searched his thoughts, no matter how he chased that feeling, it eluded him entirely.
"No matter what," Soma said quietly, lowering his gaze as his fingers brushed along the blade of his Nichirin Sword, "I will never let her become a demon."
Akaza frowned, studying him with growing incomprehension. "I truly don't understand you. You're a demon yourself, yet you seem dissatisfied with being one. It's absurd."
His eyes flicked to the sword in Soma's hand, his expression twisting faintly. "And that thing—don't you find it disgusting? It's like a human clutching filth in their bare hands."
Soma's lips twitched ever so slightly.
In truth, Akaza's comparison wasn't entirely wrong. To demons, a weapon infused with the power of the sun was indeed something viscerally repulsive.
But feeling it was one thing; hearing it spoken so bluntly was another. Especially now, as his hand still rested upon the blade, the words left a bitter taste he could not quite dispel.
In the end, he said nothing.
Seeing no response, Akaza lost interest quickly. His gaze drifted back to the girl still catching her breath. "Ordinarily, the humans I invite to become demons are the strongest of their kind," he said. "For a frail child like her to even receive such an offer is already a stroke of fortune."
"If she trained under me," he went on, almost idly, "she could grow into a capable demon in no time—perhaps even rise to become one of the Twelve Kizuki."
Soma did not reply. He merely continued to run his fingers along the Nichirin Sowrd, as though grounding himself in its presence.
Akaza found the silence dull. That he had already spent this much time speaking with a weak demon was, to him, an unusual indulgence—perhaps the first in many years. Ordinarily, such beings were not worth even a moment of his attention.
With that, he turned away, stepping back into the hollow of the cave. Soon, the rhythmic sounds of his training resumed, echoing faintly as he once again pursued that endless path toward greater strength.
"Haa... haa..."
Kanao tightened her grip on the wooden sword, lifting it once more. Though her arms trembled and her breath still came unevenly, she forced herself to raise it again, determined to continue.
But she had no strength left.
No matter how she tried, her body refused to obey.
"Alright… that's enough."
Soma spoke gently as he watched Kanao Tsuyuri collapse onto the ground, still struggling to push herself back up despite the tremor in her limbs.
"I… want to keep going…"
Her gaze drifted toward the demon still training tirelessly in the distance. She bit her lip, remembering—remembering how that same demon had beaten her uncle mercilessly, how he had stood there powerless, unable to fight back… and how she herself had been just as helpless.
The memory left a bitter ache in her chest.
She never wanted to face something like that again.
It would have been one thing if the enemy had simply been strong—but now, even her own efforts seemed insignificant in comparison, as though no matter how hard she tried, she could never even glimpse the possibility of resistance.
"Rest," Soma said softly, reaching out to pat her head. "You've trained long enough already… you've done very well."
"But… I'm still so far behind…"
Kanao lowered her head, her voice small and unsteady. "Will I… never be able to protect you?"
A faint, helpless laugh escaped him. "Protect me? Since when do I need you to do that?"
He tapped her lightly on the head, his tone gentler than his words. "Enough thinking. You need rest."
As he spoke, he bent down and lifted her into his arms.
She was so light—her small body soft and fragile—that it took no effort at all. Carrying her with quiet care, he brought her to the resting place he had prepared and laid her down gently.
Kanao tilted her head up, her wide eyes fixed on him. "I'm so useless…"
"Don't think like that."
He followed her gaze toward the distant figure still immersed in endless training. "You see that demon still going, while you can't even lift your arm anymore? That's because he's a demon, and you're human. Humans and demons are not the same."
He spoke quietly, as though stating an unchangeable truth.
"Then… Uncle…" Her eyes flickered with a fragile hope. "Can I become a demon too? Like you?"
She had heard everything—the conversation between him and the other demon—and now that thought had taken root in her heart.
"Uncle… turn me into a demon too."
The moment the words left her lips, she realized something was wrong.
The man who had always treated her with such gentle patience now looked… different. It was rare—so rare it startled her—to see anger on his face, raw and unrestrained.
Yet even in that anger, he did not strike her.
He only looked at her, his voice quiet but firm, carrying a weight she had never heard before.
"Never say that again."
"Never let that thought take hold in your heart."
Kanao pressed her lips together, unable to understand.
That demon had spoken at length about the advantages of becoming one—about strength, about freedom from weakness. If she became a demon, she could grow stronger. She would never have to watch helplessly again, never have to let anyone hurt her uncle.
And yet… he refused.
"I… I'll listen to you, Uncle."
Though reluctance lingered deep within her chest, his words outweighed everything else—far beyond her own wishes, even beyond her own life.
There was nothing in this world more important than obeying him.
"Sleep now."
Soma gently patted her head. Kanao fell silent, and exhaustion soon claimed her. Before long, her breathing softened as she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Even the thunderous sounds of Akaza training within the cave—loud enough to shake the air—could not wake her. The small girl had truly pushed herself to her limits.
Soma pulled a blanket over her and sat quietly at her side, his fingers once again tracing along the edge of his Nichirin Sword.
And somehow, in that stillness—
the demon-slaying edge seemed to grow sharper still.