I crushed the pest I had flicked away with my foot.
The ground was stained pitch black.
"Ichibe Hyosube."
"...Ho ho. Why do you call for me?"
"Thinking back, I never liked you. You probably don't even know why I despise you, do you? After all, you believe everything you've done was for the sake of 'peace.'"
"That is correct."
His brazen confidence was almost impressive.
Fine. I'd rather have a bastard who's an open piece of sh*t than a hypocrite.
"No shame, even after committing evil. Because that's just the nature of peace, right?"
"If the sacrifice of the few is inevitable for the sake of the many, then it must be accepted, must it not?"
"Provided you aren't part of that 'few.' Ah, don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly scolding you. I'm the one who fled to Hell because I didn't want to give up my own body, after all."
"Does that mean... you could have taken up the role of the Wedge yourself?"
"Yeah. On paper, I probably could have been a better Wedge than the Soul King."
I could have become a living, sentient Wedge, allowing the Soul King to close his eyes and die in peace.
But I hated the idea, so I ran to Hell. I had no desire to shoulder the massive burden known as the Three Worlds.
Since the Soul King stepped up for the role himself, I figured I didn't have to. I kept my mouth shut and my hands off.
In that sense, I owe the Soul King a debt I can never repay, and I carry a sin that can never be washed away.
"By that logic, I'm just like you. A damn selfish human being."
In a way, I was more malicious than any of them.
They are ignorant of the future, but I decided to remain a bystander despite knowing exactly what would transpire in the distant years to come.
"But, at least I didn't wrap myself in 'justice' and self-rationalization like you. Do you know why I didn't?"
"...."
"Because even if I have to carry my karma for a lifetime, I didn't want to live a life I'd be ashamed of before the heavens. Only then, when I finally meet the Soul King again after his death, can I look him in the eye and say, 'I'm sorry I couldn't help,' and 'Thank you for everything.'"
Even if I get cursed for being shameless, I'd at least be able to say those words.
"So, I decided to do the best I can. I can't let people say the world the Soul King sacrificed himself to create is irrational or broken, or that it shouldn't exist, or that it needs a revolution. I established a new law to make it as good as it can be. Have you heard of the Six Realms of Reincarnation?"
"This is the first I have heard of it."
"Of course it is. I only made it today. Well, I won't bother explaining the details. We're both going to live long enough to get sick of each other; no point wasting my breath and rotting my brain trying to explain it now."
I scratched my head and turned my back to him.
"It looks like you tried to use that petty little power of yours to drag me down and keep me in the palm of your hand. Keep dreaming."
"How did you..."
Honestly, it's not like I didn't know what they were up to.
I was just playing along.
The moment I heard the name from Kagaya, I realized it.
Ah, these bastards are trying to give me a 'Name'—that's what I thought.
Sure, having a name is convenient. Being called 'Mr. So-and-so' is better than 'Hey,' 'You,' 'Sir,' or 'Thee.'
"How could I not know? You kept calling me 'Forerunner.'"
"...Could it be? But, how is that possible!"
"Why? Didn't I tell you before? I don't have a name, but I have plenty of terms that describe 'Me.'"
Forerunner. Nether King. Master. Shimon—the teacher of letters. The Awakened One. The First to Open His Eyes.
They're all different, but they all point to me.
"They are also the words you used when you addressed me."
"'Shimon Meio'... You accepted that not as a name to define yourself, but merely as an adjective?"
"I am who I am. I'm not an entity you can define."
I'm still thinking about what I want my name to be, so why the hell are you bastards trying to decide it for me?
And besides.
"I'm the one who gave the name 'Soul King' to him, you brat. You think you can just slap a name on me as you please without even asking if I like it?"
The more I talked, the more pissed off I got. You son of a bitch.
I cracked my neck and slowly walked toward him.
"Time to catch these hands."
They say Bodhidharma's head was lumpy like a mountain range; I'm going to make yours look exactly like that.
Square up, you bastard.
* * *
I finished turning Ichibe Hyosube's head into the shape of a jagged mountain peak.
Hopefully, this helps his high-and-mighty skull reach some higher-dimensional thoughts.
Maybe he'll stop drowning in that elitist 'Guardian of Justice' complex.
I washed the blood off my hands in a nearby river and returned to the Shiba estate.
Perhaps because I'd already made an appearance, no one tried to block my path.
Instead, most of the people I encountered looked at me like interns staring at a terrifyingly strict department head.
'Is this what they call a generation gap?'
Rasatsu used to ambush me at every turn, and Shiryu used to talk until my ears bled.
Thinking back, those were the good old days.
'...Do I sound like a boomer?'
It's not factually wrong, but it is a bit sad.
Smacking my lips, I walked toward Shiryu's spiritual presence and locked eyes with him as he sat watching the garden, sipping green tea.
"Ah, Master. You've returned."
"Yeah. You got the clothes?"
"Of course. I have them ready right here."
The garment he produced was a snow-white kimono that looked incredibly high-end at a glance.
Why did he prepare a kimono that I can't even put on by myself?
"I don't know how to wear a kimono."
"Haha, this isn't just a regular kimono. It is a masterpiece known as the Iromonzuki Hakama."
"What makes it different?"
"It is white."
The way he nodded while making that 'Hmm' sound reminded me of a certain environmental minister who would say things like 'I believe that being older means you've lived longer' with a perfectly serious face.
"I don't like white. Dirt shows too easily."
"Ho ho, did I not tell you it wasn't an ordinary kimono? This Iromonzuki Hakama is actually..."
Shiryu trailed off and suddenly splashed his green tea directly onto the hakama.
What the hell...? You're ruining the clothes you're giving me?
"Wait, it's still clean?"
"Yes. As you can see, this hakama 'rejects' all food, liquid, and filth."
"Rejects? Don't tell me..."
"...Indeed. It is an application of the Barrier concept that embodies the Soul King's philosophy—the rejection of outside forces—woven into the fabric. Of course, it only rejects filth; it can still be torn by blades."
"The weaver who crafted this named it 'Eibakufuku'—the Eternal White Raiment."
"The Eternal White Raiment... That's a grand name."
"Is it not a name befitting the status of its master?"
Shiryu gave a low chuckle and handed me the clothes.
Living up to its name, the texture was incredibly soft and light, fluttering as if it were a garment belonging to a celestial maiden.
Shiryu then pulled out a long sash.
Unlike the clothes, the sash was pitch black.
"This is the obi. Unlike the raiment, it's made of a high-grade fabric with nothing special about it other than being twice as durable as other fabrics."
"You're right, this is remarkably tough."
The fact that it didn't tear when I gave it a tug meant it was exceptionally durable.
Usually, normal clothes would shred the moment I pulled them.
"This weaver must be quite skilled?"
"Indeed. She is the Grand Weaver who has woven the garments for all the heads of the Five Great Noble Houses—excluding you, Master, as you were in Hell."
"Grand Weaver? Is that a name?"
Who names their kid Grand Weaver?
"It is a title. Clothing is the most basic form of protection for the body. Those who weave such protection are called 'Orimori,' and the pinnacle among them is called the 'Grand Weaver.'"
"So she's the boss of the weavers. Anyway, how do I put this on?"
"Ah, allow me to assist you."
As Shiryu tried to stand, he let out a groan of pain, 'Oof,' showing his age. I gently pressed his shoulder to keep him seated.
Even if he was my disciple, receiving such service from an old man was a bit much...
"I'll figure it out myself, so just sit."
"Ho ho... Aging is a sorrowful thing."
"It's natural."
With that, I changed into the clothes.
'Changing' basically just meant sticking my limbs in and wrapping it around me.
Especially the obi.
Apparently, there's a proper way to tie it, but since I didn't know, I just tied it twice like a Taekwondo belt and called it a day.
"Master, the knot of the obi is supposed to be turned toward the back."
"Oh, really?"
Carefully ensuring the top didn't come loose, I rotated the obi toward my back.
The claim that it was high-quality wasn't a lie; it was genuinely comfortable.
"This is nice."
"That is a relief. It was worth entrusting the task to the Grand Weaver."
Wait a minute. It's been less than eleven hours since I asked for clothes and went to see Jomon...
She finished all of this in that time?
"Was this pre-made?"
"No, the Grand Weaver's hands are simply that fast. From spinning the thread to weaving the fabric on the loom and finishing the garment—it takes ten minutes. A speed truly worthy of the name 'Senju.'"
"Senju..."
Wait. Ah...?
I think I remember. What was it again?
"Senjumaru Shutara."
I remembered.
Yes, that was the name.
"You knew her...? No, of course. For you, Master, that is only natural."
"I guess."
I scratched my head and sat down beside Shiryu.
"Now, shall we get back to the topic of Hozuki?"
"Is this about his reincarnation?"
"No, he can't reincarnate yet. Oh, don't look so despondent; I'll let him reincarnate once his accumulated Spiritual Power dissipates a bit."
I'm planning to give him some work to do in Hell.
He's still young, so his guardian needs to sign the labor contract for him.
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