A thin layer of cold sweat formed at Yuko's temples. Her back was ramrod straight as she sat rigidly in place, holding the swaddled infant stiffly in her arms.
Soft and warm… it felt like holding a freshly fried piece of fragrant chicken.
But she didn't dare move even an inch.
Because the two people conversing a short distance in front of her kept glancing over from time to time.
Although Sumiyoshi trusted Yuko to a certain extent, the earlier incident where she drooled had definitely lowered his favorability a bit. Add to that his responsibilities as a father—
Even though he tried to restrain himself, he still couldn't help turning his head every now and then.
As for Yoriichi, he was simply following Sumiyoshi's gaze—Sumiyoshi looked, so he looked as well.
Yuko felt as if what she was holding wasn't a baby, but some kind of priceless, fragile exhibit in a museum.
If she so much as twitched the wrong way, the security guards beside her would probably rush over and pin her to the floor.
This must be what "sitting on pins and needles" feels like.
Still… it was somewhat effective. Her appetite had at least decreased considerably.
"I'm home, everyone!" Suyako returned with a large basin of chestnuts. "Look, this year's chestnuts are this big~!"
When she came inside and saw Yuko stiffly holding the baby, she couldn't help laughing.
"Miss Yuko, that's not how you hold a child." Suyako smiled as she gently took the baby from her arms.
Yuko's whole body softened instantly. She let out a long exhale and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead.
Taking care of a child was harder than forcing her body to fight Michikatsu.
Seeing her look so relieved, Suyako teased her: "You really ought to learn how to care for a child."
"Miss Yuko won't become a proper mother like this."
Yuko's mouth twitched. She felt completely unable to refute her.
Which made the two people watching from the side secretly snicker.
…
Sumiyoshi and his family remained as warm and welcoming as ever, making it hard for Yuko and Yoriichi to refuse. So the two stayed for a few days, enjoying the family's hospitality.
One afternoon, Suyako was taking a nap inside the house.
Yuko was stiffly holding Sumiyoshi's youngest child while Yoriichi played comfortably with Sumire.
"The tea is ready." Sumiyoshi brought over the teapot.
"I'm terribly sorry for having our guests help take care of the children."
Yoriichi's calm voice sounded. "Don't mind it. She must be tired. Raising children is hard work."
She minds!
Yuko immediately shot Sumiyoshi a pleading look.
After setting down the tea, Sumiyoshi hurriedly stepped forward to take the child back.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, Miss Yuko."
Ever since Suyako had said Yuko didn't know how to take care of children, she had deliberately handed the baby to Yuko at every opportunity.
She called it "helping Miss Yuko develop her childcare skills."
Even though Yuko earnestly insisted she would never marry, she still couldn't withstand Suyako's enthusiasm.
These days, Yuko had never eaten in front of them, so naturally Suyako learned the truth about her from the others.
Even knowing what Yuko was, she still trusted her—and was willing to entrust her children to her.
How could Yuko refuse?
"No trouble. Children… are very nice." Yuko wiped more cold sweat away and forced a strained smile.
Sumiyoshi also wiped some sweat from his brow. It really did look like a difficult battle.
Yoriichi glanced at the sky, took a sip of tea, and said quietly, "Once we finish this cup, we should be on our way."
Sumiyoshi paused in surprise.
Yuko smiled softly. "We can't stay here eating and living for free forever. Brother would feel guilty."
Holding the sleeping child, Sumiyoshi quickly protested: "How could that be? You two are our family's saviors. Without your help, none of us—not even this child—would be alive today."
…
Silence was the only response.
"I understand." After hesitating, Sumiyoshi said, "Then at least let me pass on your deeds."
Yoriichi replied calmly, "There's no need."
Sumiyoshi looked at him worriedly. "But… you must be troubled that you have no successor, right?"
"Even if a humble charcoal seller like me cannot inherit your ways…"
"Someday, surely someone will…"
…
"No need," Yoriichi's quiet voice interrupted. He lifted the teacup and turned to Sumiyoshi, speaking with calm serenity. "Those who walk the path—all return to the same end."
"No matter how the eras change, how different the roads may seem…"
"They will ultimately reach the same place."
"You seem to view me as someone extraordinary, but that isn't true."
"I couldn't protect anything important. In my life, I accomplished none of the things I should have. I am a worthless man."
Sumiyoshi stared at the calm man before him, words forming desperately in his heart.
Please don't…
"Please don't say that." Yuko's quiet voice echoed through the room. She sat inside, her back turned to the two men on the veranda.
"Even if other Hashira had been there that day, they wouldn't have been able to kill Muzan either."
"No one demanded that you must defeat him. Something even you couldn't do shouldn't be forced onto you."
"Brother, you have done nothing wrong."
Yoriichi seemed like someone with faint emotions, yet inside he was deeply gentle. He spoke of the world's path returning to the same end as though indifferent to everything, yet he still blamed himself for failing to kill Muzan.
That was why, deep down, he believed he was useless.
Possessing such enormous strength, yet accomplishing nothing.
Yoriichi's eyes flickered faintly—some emotion finally stirred.
Following Yuko's words, Sumiyoshi immediately added, "She's right! Master Yoriichi, taking all the responsibility onto yourself—that's wrong!"
Yoriichi pressed his lips together but didn't reply. He watched the sun dip beyond the horizon and finished his tea.
Then he stood and picked up his Nichirin blade. "Yuko, let's go."
Sumiyoshi seemed reluctant. "You're leaving already?"
"Yes."
Guests who are leaving must be seen off properly.
Sumiyoshi gently woke Suyako so the family could escort them.
Sumire somehow found two periwinkle flowers—one pink, one white—and handed them to the pair.
Pink for gentle remembrance.
White for friendship.
Yuko held the pink flower between her fingers and smiled as she picked Sumire up.
A child might not understand flower language, but her affection for them was impossible to hide.
As they were about to part, Suyako energetically waved her arms and began pestering Yoriichi to show her some sword forms.
After receiving such heartfelt hospitality from the family, how could Yoriichi refuse?
…
Nightfall descended, barren and quiet. The insects chirping in the forest suddenly fell silent, as if someone had cut the sound off completely.
In the hazy darkness, a blazing sun rose before the Kamado family home.
From the jet-black blade erupted brilliant orange flames, swirling like gorgeous silk in midair—like a mighty fire dragon roaring into the night.
---
Currently at chapter 183 for advance chapters
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