Chapter 57: Bestie Bonds
Shinjuro quickly reined in his thoughts. Talent like that was a force of nature—something one simply couldn't envy.
Besides, Kanzaki Akira's strength wasn't a product of his gifts alone. Without relentless tempering, he never would have been able to dissect the flaws in Shinjuro's own battle-forged swordsmanship with a single, discerning glance.
…
For the better part of the next three weeks, Akira made his home with the Rengoku family.
On most days, he accompanied Kyoujurou, guiding him through the forms of Flame Breathing. Occasionally, he would cross blades with Shinjuro, sparring over fundamental techniques and refining their shared craft.
During this time, he also grew acquainted with Shinjuro's wife, Ruka. Though the strong-willed woman never let it show, Akira's perceptive eyes noticed a distinct frailty clinging to her. Her body seemed to lack the vigor it should have possessed.
Perhaps to keep her family from worrying, Ruka had been carefully concealing her condition. Even when Akira gently brought it to her attention, she merely insisted she had caught a minor cold and asked him to help keep it a secret.
Naturally, Akira could not agree.
Too many fatal illnesses began as inconspicuous, minor ailments. Now that the signs had surfaced, it was essential to seek treatment early. If they acted now, perhaps she could avoid the tragic fate of an early passing that awaited her in the original story.
After a serious discussion with the Rengoku men, Akira penned a letter to the Butterfly Mansion. He requested that a pair of their most experienced physicians, Mr. and Mrs. Takemoto, find the time to visit. They arrived a few days later and gave Ruka a thorough examination, successfully identifying the source of her illness. After several days of initial treatment, they departed, leaving behind a detailed prescription of herbs and tonics designed to nourish her body and restore her strength.
Because of this, the Rengoku family's affection for Akira deepened, their bond becoming even more intimate.
The only thing that gave Akira a slight headache was Kyoujurou's particular brand of stubbornness.
Ever since Akira had gained a slight upper hand over Shinjuro in a spar and demonstrated his astonishing talent for learning Breathing Styles, he had acquired two little fans: Kyoujurou and Senjuro.
And the way they both addressed him was, invariably, "Kanzaki-senpai."
Being called "senpai" by Senjuro, who was only six years old, was already a bit much to handle. But turning around to find Kyoujurou—a boy only a few months his junior—also calling him "senpai" with every other breath made Akira's composure crack.
The feeling was uncomfortably similar to being called "Uncle" in his past life when he was still under twenty.
"I'm begging you two," Akira sighed one afternoon, "Just call me 'Akira.' Or even just 'Kanzaki.' Anything but 'senpai.' It makes me feel ancient…"
"Although we are of a similar age, Kanzaki-senpai, your strength and status are far above my own," Kyoujurou replied, his signature sunny smile unwavering. He delivered his reasoning with a straight face, his politeness so earnest and respectful that it left Akira with no room to argue.
Beside him, Senjuro nodded vigorously. "Mhm, mhm!"
"Haha! Kanzaki, the Rengoku family has always revered the strong. Just accept it with grace," Shinjuro chimed in from the side. Seeing Akira's deflated look, he clapped him on the shoulder, a gloating laugh escaping his lips. After all, watching this prodigy, who usually carried himself with the maturity of a seasoned veteran, show an expression so fitting for a teenage boy was a novel experience.
Akira swatted Shinjuro's hand away with a look of pure annoyance. 'Great comfort,'he thought dryly.'Next time, try not to grin while you're doing it, thanks.'
Through their daily interactions, Shinjuro had truly come to see Akira as a peer, no longer even adding the word "young man" when addressing him.
"By the way," Shinjuro said, his tone growing more serious. "You must be preparing to head back soon, right?"
"Yeah, it's been twenty days," Akira confirmed with a nod. "I've mostly learned Flame Breathing and have some solid ideas for new sword forms. It's time to go."
He paused, a flicker of duty in his eyes. "I am a Hashira, after all. I can't keep leaving my assigned territory for you and Gyomei to patrol forever. That would make me a pretty incompetent Pillar, wouldn't it?"
"True," Shinjuro conceded. "Though demon activity hasn't been frequent lately, and Gyomei and I can handle it, we can't account for every contingency. Your speed is unmatched; when it comes to emergency support, Gyomei and I combined can't compare to you alone." He offered a confident smile. "However, when the day comes that the forms you've created based on Flame Breathing bear fruit, I expect to be the first to see them."
"No problem."
…
As Akira began planning his return journey, miles away, behind Mount Sagiri, a girl wearing a butterfly hairpin sat by a roaring waterfall, lost in thought.
Ever since Kanae had learned the complete sequence of Water Breathing a week ago, she would often come to this place, staring at the cascade and the surrounding flora.
Having mastered the forms, Kanae could indeed feel a subtle awkwardness when she used them, a dissonance between the movements and her own body. She had tried altering some of the techniques, and while the awkwardness vanished, the power of the strikes diminished with it. For her, whose innate physical strength was already on the lower side, this was an unacceptable trade-off.
Therefore, the self-created Breathing Style Akira had suggested to her had become the only viable path forward.
It was the season where winter had just surrendered its grip and the first whispers of the spring breeze were beginning to blow. Vegetation stirred to life, the last of the winter jasmine was fading, and early cherry blossoms had already formed tight buds on their branches. The roar of the waterfall did not disturb this burgeoning vitality; instead, it added a powerful, rhythmic pulse to the peace of the mountainside.
Kanae watched as petals fluttered in the wind, following the flowing water into the distance. She looked at the flower buds appearing on the branches alongside tender new leaves. Listening to the thundering current, a detached, artistic mood began to brew in her heart. Occasionally, a flash of inspiration would cross her mind, a fleeting image or feeling, but she could never quite grasp it.
"Kanae, are you still thinking about creating your own Breathing Style?"
Makomo, having finished her daily training, approached the spot by the water.
"Mhm," Kanae affirmed softly. "Water Breathing really isn't a good fit for me, and the other primary Breathing Styles have physical requirements that are too high. Even now, I've only barely reached the threshold. To truly practice them to the point where I could face a demon—let alone fight alongside Akira-kun—would take far too long."
"There's no helping it," Makomo sighed, a hint of her own frustration in her voice. "Although Breathing Techniques can strengthen the body, they can't replace the foundation built by time and hard work. We girls are at a natural disadvantage in that regard." It was precisely because she lacked raw power that she focused so intensely on perfecting her technique and speed.
"Akira-kun told me before that what suits you is what's best," Kanae murmured, her thoughts returning to him. "If Water Breathing isn't suitable, I can try to create a style that belongs only to me."
At the mention of his name, her tone subconsciously softened, but it was quickly overshadowed by a familiar worry. "These past few days, I've had some inspiration, but I haven't been able to fully grasp it."
"Daring to think and act, and even having a real hope for success—you're already much stronger than me, you know," Makomo said encouragingly. "I haven't even fully mastered Water Breathing, and you're already preparing to create your own. On top of that, I just got a letter from Akira. He was bragging that he's already mastered Flame Breathing and is getting ready to create new moves of his own."
"Akira-kun sent a letter?" Kanae's head snapped up, her focus instantly zeroing in on the one piece of information she cared about most. The joy in her voice was utterly irrepressible.
Then, as she turned, she met Makomo's direct, knowing gaze.
A blush crept up Kanae's neck. "Uh… what I meant to say was… for you to have practiced Water Breathing to your current level, growing from a Mizunoto-ranked slayer to Kinoto in less than two months, is also very impressive… haha…"
From the time Makomo had recovered at the Butterfly Mansion until now, the two had spent a great deal of time together. They were keenly aware of the place a certain young man held in each other's hearts, but they tactfully avoided mentioning it on most days, unwilling to let it fracture the precious bond of friendship they had worked so hard to build.
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]