Chapter 172: A Girl Like a Flower (Part 1)
The last time Akira crossed blades with Giyuu was shortly after he learned the Water Hashira had developed his exclusive Eleventh Form. There was no question that Giyuu's swordsmanship had sharpened considerably since those early days, his strikes carrying a heavier, more decisive weight. Yet, despite that growth, the final outcome remained entirely unchanged. After all, Akira hadn't exactly been standing still either.
The moment Giyuu's tranquil Dead Calm shattered under the sheer, overwhelming physical force of Akira's assault, the spar devolved into a one-sided thrashing. The other Hashira watching from the sidelines winced, some even turning their heads away from the brutal display.
Naturally, Akira wasn't going to seriously injure his fellow swordsman over a single misplaced comment, but a healthy dose of physical suffering was absolutely mandatory. Exhaling a long, refreshed breath, Akira stepped forward and hauled Giyuu up from the dirt by the collar of his uniform.
He had carefully controlled his output. Giyuu would suffer nothing more than an assortment of colorful bruises, marks that his honed physique would naturally heal within a day. The only reason the Water Hashira had thrown himself to the ground so quickly was to protect his face from further damage. As for how Giyuu knew Akira was specifically targeting his face? One only needed to look at the spectacular, swelling purple ring already blooming around his left eye.
Initially, when his ultimate defense cracked, Giyuu had actually tried to mount a counterattack. He shifted his stance, preparing to retaliate, but Akira exploited that split-second gap in his guard and planted a solid, ringing punch squarely into his eye socket. The fight drained out of Giyuu instantly. He abandoned all pride, dropping to the earth and curling into a defensive ball with his arms wrapped tightly around his head.
A ripple of amused chuckles swept through the gathered spectators at the sight of that comical shiner. Sabito, standing near the edge of the training grounds, threw his head back and laughed the loudest, the sound booming across the courtyard.
Giyuu was his closest junior brother, his dearest friend. But precisely because they shared such a tight bond and spent nearly every waking hour together, Sabito had long lost count of how many times Giyuu's bizarre, socially oblivious logic had driven him up the wall. To make matters infinitely more frustrating, in a standard spar where lethal force was prohibited, Sabito simply could not pierce through the absolute defense of the Eleventh Form.
Watching his stoic friend get thoroughly humbled by Akira brought a deep, deeply satisfying catharsis to Sabito's soul.
Noticing the brightened mood of his peers, the corners of Giyuu's mouth twitched upward... shifting perhaps a fraction of an inch. He couldn't manage anything wider; stretching his facial muscles too much pulled at the swollen flesh around his eye, sending sharp spikes of pain across his cheek.
'Everyone is smiling because of me,'Giyuu thought, a quiet sense of validation settling in his chest.'Even Akira held back from hitting me too hard. See? I told them I wasn't hated.'Akira caught the faint, oddly peaceful look in the Water Hashira's good eye and sighed inwardly.'Bullying someone this hopelessly simple... why do I suddenly feel like the villain here?'
The training session continued for a while longer, the wooden swords clashing and kicking up dust until everyone—save for Akira and the towering Gyoumei—had taken their turns sparring against one another. With the physical exercises concluded, the Hashira Meeting was officially declared over, and the elite swordsmen dispersed to their respective estates.
The days slipped away in a quiet blur, rushing forward like a wild horse breaking free from its reins.
Before the early summer sun had even managed to fully crest the horizon, painting the sky in soft strokes of peach and gold, Akira and Kanae were already packed and stepping out of the Butterfly Mansion.
Bathed in the cool, gentle morning light, the couple strolled leisurely along a winding mountain path, their fingers interlaced. Kanae, standing about half a head shorter than him, leaned her weight slightly into his side as they walked. With their dark hair catching the dawn's glow, the complementary cuts of their haori fluttering in the mountain breeze, and the effortless, silent synchronicity of their footsteps, they painted a picture of absolute harmony. Anyone passing by would instantly recognize them as a perfect match.
"Hmm..." Kanae hummed softly, lightly tapping her chin with a slender index finger. She tilted her head up to look at him, a playful breeze catching the butterfly ornament in her hair. "Akira, what kind of gift did you prepare for me?"
Her pale purple eyes sparkled in the morning light, brimming with genuine curiosity and a sweet, unguarded anticipation.
Meeting her gaze, Akira offered a faint, affectionate smile and shook his head. "If I tell you the surprise in advance, it ruins the anticipation."
"Ara, is that so?" Kanae leaned a fraction closer, her shoulder brushing his. "Then I suppose I'll just have to raise my expectations all the way to the sky. You won't let me down, right?" She punctuated the question with a slow, deliberately playful wink.
"Never," Akira replied, his voice carrying an absolute, unshakeable certainty.
"Are you really that confident?"
"I am. I poured a ridiculous amount of effort into preparing this." He paused, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "But that's only one of the reasons."
"Oh? And what might the other reason be?" she asked, playing along flawlessly as she tilted her head to the other side.
In truth, the moment their eyes locked, she already knew the answer. She knew exactly how he viewed her.
"Because the person receiving and judging this gift is you, Kanae," he said softly, his tone dropping into something far more intimate. "Knowing you, no matter what I pull out of my pocket, you wouldn't be disappointed. Even if I told you right now that my only gift was simply keeping you company for the next few days, you would still be entirely happy. Wouldn't you?"
His assessment hit the mark perfectly. Kanae possessed a deeply gentle soul; she was a woman who found joy in the simplest of things, requiring very little to feel cherished.
Akira let out a quiet sigh, his grip on her hand tightening just a fraction. "Honestly, just saying that out loud makes me feel completely shameless. It makes me sound like some arrogant scumbag taking your affection for granted."
"But you aren't that kind of person, are you?"
The smile blooming across Kanae's face grew impossibly radiant, like a delicate flower unfurling its petals to greet the morning sun through a veil of mist. It was a stunning expression, so vivid and full of pure, unfiltered life that most men would hesitate to step closer, terrified of ruining something so pristine. They would rather stand at a safe distance and admire her quietly.
Yet, this beautiful flower had willingly placed herself directly into Akira's hands, her presence permanently etching itself into the deepest corners of his heart.
"I'm not," Akira answered bluntly, his expression turning serious. "And I refuse to ever unintentionally become one. So, what I'm trying to say is... at least for these next few days. At least for this specific birthday. I want you to be a little willful. Be a little picky. Be greedy, Kanae."
He stopped walking, turning fully to face her. "When you look back on this trip years from now, or when you sit around sharing stories about this milestone with Makomo and the others, I don't want you to have a single shred of regret. I want it to be perfect."
"Ara..." Kanae blinked, touched by the raw sincerity in his voice. A faint blush dusted her cheeks before she recovered, playfully sticking the tip of her tongue out. "To borrow your favorite phrase... 'I'll try my best'?"
Willfulness, pickiness, greed—Kanae certainly believed she possessed those traits. But her personal definition of acting spoiled was so incredibly tame that Akira barely registered it as a demand. Then again, if she truly possessed a selfish bone in her body, she never would have gone out of her way to act as the emotional mediator, gently coaxing and preparing the other girls in the estate to accept his complicated, expanding affections.
He had a woman this perfect, this endlessly accommodating, standing right in front of him—and yet, his own greed had driven him to reach out and pull other girls into his embrace.
'I really am a bastard,' Akira thought, a wave of self-deprecating guilt washing over him.
"You..." Akira breathed out, entirely at a loss for words. He reached out, gently flicking her smooth forehead with his fingers.
Kanae rubbed her forehead with a soft giggle. "I believe in you, Akira. You won't let me down."
Her absolute faith wasn't just her own; it was a sentiment shared by all the women residing in his estate. They knew his feelings were genuine. He might have been hopelessly greedy when it came to romance, but he poured his entire soul into protecting and cherishing every single one of them. That unwavering sincerity was the only reason they had opened their hearts to his unconventional family dynamic.
And the eighteenth birthdays he had carefully planned for each of them would be no exception. It was an unspoken promise, a silent vow woven into his everyday actions that they all implicitly trusted. For this monumental milestone of turning eighteen, he was determined to give every single one of them a completely unique experience—a flawlessly crafted gift, and a stunning memory that belonged exclusively to the two of them.
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