"And that is why we must be prepared," Kagaya said again, firmer now. "This incident must never be repeated. That clan may be gone, but the idea..." His hand tightened on his lap, "... The idea must be crushed"
A heavy silence followed, thick as smoke.
Gyomei bowed his head. "Oyakata-sama…"
But Kagaya continued, unwavering.
"We must investigate whether other clans, families, or groups worship demons in secret. Whether out of desperation, greed, or twisted belief. If it happened once…" His eyes softened, then hardened with quiet resolve. "…it can happen again."
Shinjuro's shoulders lowered, the weight he carried seeming to drag his entire frame downward.
Guilt. Frustration. Rage.
All of it churned beneath his skin, simmering like coals too hot to touch.
"I should've arrived earlier," he muttered bitterly. "I should've-"
"You saved the one life you could," Kagaya cut in gently, but with a firmness that allowed no self-blame to take root. "And that one life is sitting right here"
Obanai's shoulders flinched, just barely. A tiny movement, almost invisible, but in the silence of the room it felt like a shockwave.
Shinjuro turned fully toward the boy.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't reach out.
He didn't make the mistake of leaning in too quickly.
Every motion was slow, deliberate, the careful, practiced gentleness of someone trying not to startle a wounded animal whose instinct was to flee at the slightest sudden gesture.
His expression softened, the fire in his eyes dimming into something more patient... something painfully human.
"…Now, Obanai," Shinjuro said quietly. "This is the question..."
--------
- Night at the Rengoku residence.
The night at the Rengoku residence was quiet.
A soft breeze brushed across the engawa, stirring the paper of the nearby shoji doors. Moonlight spilled across the wooden floorboards in pale, silver strokes.
Kagerou sat alone, kiseru balanced between his fingers, the ember at its tip glowing faintly each time he exhaled. Smoke curled up into the night air, thin and wandering, like thoughts he couldn't quite grasp.
He stared at the moon for a long while.
His mind replayed the last conversation he had with Kagaya after the meeting.
Not the formal discussion.
Not the warnings.
But the private words exchanged afterward, about him, about their promise years ago.
A promise he hadn't forgotten.
'Kagaya… you're still trying to protect everyone except yourself'
A soft footstep approached behind him.
Kagerou didn't turn. He didn't need to. There was only one person who walked through the house with that heavy calmness.
Shinjuro appeared with two steaming cups of tea in hand. He placed one beside Kagerou before lowering himself onto the engawa.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then-
"…You sure about rejecting Oyakata-sama's proposal?" Shinjuro asked, taking a slow sip. "You know there's nothing wrong with it. And with Tengen and Gyomei's approval, no one in the Corps would oppose it," He huffed quietly, not hiding his disbelief, "But I never expected that your promise to Kagaya was that you'd become a Hashira. That's… surprising"
Kagerou finally took his cup, sipping slowly.
"Wrong," he corrected calmly, "The promise was that I would become a Hashira as soon as possible with my own power. I don't need a recommendation… or any shortcut"
Smoke drifted upward from his lips.
"Kagaya offered that because he was running out of time," Kagerou continued softly. "Chased by a demon… chased by time... chased by his own body. And yet he never lets anyone see him run... He's in a hurry, Father. There hasn't been a new Hashira in years. While Demons are growing more active, more dangerous every day"
Shinjuro's hand tightened around his cup.
"…So the curse is getting worse, huh?"
Kagerou lowered his gaze.
"It is," He said as he let the smoke fade from the air. Then continued, "I understand who he is… and the weight he carries on his shoulders. And as a friend, I'll do anything to lighten that burden," His voice deepened, not harsh, but resolute. "But I won't accept a shortcut, Father. Not for this. What I have… must be something I've earned myself. Otherwise, it means nothing"
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of tea and the faint trace of smoke across the quiet garden.
Shinjuro looked at him, really looked.
Not at the boy he once found, half-feral and silent.
Not the son he had struggled to understand.
But the man he'd grown into... A man with resolve sharp enough to cut steel.
"…Stubborn brat," Shinjuro muttered. There was no anger in his voice, only pride, and a flicker of fear. Fear for the kind of future his son was choosing.
Kagerou smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.
"Runs in the family"
Shinjuro let out a short breath, half a laugh, half resignation.
"Ahaha~ Maybe you're right. So…" He sipped his tea. "Did you pick your ore this time?"
"I did," Kagerou replied. "But I don't know what's so special about it. I just chose what looked good to me. I didn't feel anything different. Or maybe I'm just different?"
Shinjuro chuckled lightly.
"Well, it's different for every person. But the principle's the same. You 'pick,' and that's all that matters. We'll have to wait a few days to see the result." He glanced sideways. "By the way, what type of blade did you request? Still a ninjatō?"
"Hmm." Kagerou nodded slowly. "And also one tanto… and one sturdy kiseru"
Shinjuro froze.
"…What?"
His head turned toward Kagerou with the slow, horrified stiffness of someone watching a man walk willingly into disaster.
Kagerou puffed calmly.
"What?" he said, as if he hadn't just declared war on Haganezuka's sanity.
Shinjuro dragged a hand down his face.
"Kage… weaponsmiths make swords, not smoking equipment!"
"I know," Kagerou replied. "That's why I asked for it. I want a kiseru that can survive demon fights. It's not "just" smoking equipment, Father, please differentiate between the two"
Shinjuro stared.
Then he whispered: "…Haganezuka is going to kill you"
Kagerou shrugged. "I don't know him, but he can try if he wants"