As my words reached their end, Old Man Banda fell into deep contemplation, resting his chin upon his hand.
So this is the 'Enlightenment' one reads of in wuxia novels. One wrong touch and he'd likely suffer a Qi Deviation.
It seems we are done. May I head home now?
Before the thought could even settle, a hand suddenly clamped onto my wrist.
The owner of that hand was Rengoku, who wore a beaming grin.
"Ha! Now, Michikatsu-shonen! Now that I think on it, I have yet to officially introduce you to the Hashira!"
Wait, what?
Rengoku dragged me toward the other Hashira.
Hold on, I thought you all had left.
While I was speaking with Old Man Banda, I assumed everyone had departed...
But there they were, still standing exactly where they had been.
Rengoku stood me before the group and placed a firm hand on my shoulder.
"You likely heard his name, but this is my Tsuguko, Tsugikuni Michikatsu!"
"I am Tsugikuni Michikatsu."
Listen, Tenjuro, things were just on the verge of a bloodbath a moment ago.
Don't you think it would be better to wait a while before doing introductions?
The first to speak was a man with long hair and squinted eyes.
"Pleased to meet ya. I'm the Water Hashira, Sakata Gin. Treat me well, now."
I noticed it earlier, but your dialect is certainly... distinct.
"I nearly lost my head there for a moment, but lookin' back, I reckon you were right. I'll apologize for that bit. My bad."
"I acted quite insolently myself, so there is no need for an apology."
"Hah, you're a real piece of work. Still, thanks to you, I can use the water a bit more natural-like. I'd say you've earned the right to be a bit cocky. Let's get along."
Next was the monk with dark circles under his eyes.
"Namu Amida Butsu. I am Anji, and I hold the seat of the Stone Hashira. Though I am a fallen monk, I have cast aside my name and live by the Dharma name bestowed upon me. I apologize for raising my voice earlier."
"Not at all."
"No, it must be said. Because of you, I shall be able to save many more souls. I look forward to working with you."
Next—
"Oh my. Is it finally my turn~? I am the Echoing Hashira, Minase Hiyori. I look forward to your acquaintance, Tsugikuni-dono~."
This person has been smiling the entire time. There isn't even a hint of her expression shifting.
"That one's got no human emotions, I tell ya. Don't get too close or she'll rub off on ya," Gin whispered.
"How cruel, Sakata-dono. Am I some kind of monster~?"
"What else d'you call someone who laughs while slicin' ten Demons into mincemeat?"
"Agh! Demons are evil, aren't they? No one's going to complain no matter how many I kill!"
"Nobody does it while grinnin' like a loon, you lass."
As expected, this one isn't sane either.
Next was the young man with one eye.
"Shimotsuki Shusui. I am the Wind Hashira... I'll say it again: I'm sorry about what happened."
"Well, I don't hold any particular ill will. It is true that I was being disrespectful."
"Well, Shimotsuki-dono has a real weakness for strong people. He jumped at you because you spoke rudely to Master, but I'm sure he also just wanted an excuse to test you~? Though he got shut down quite spectacularly."
"Quiet. If you hadn't blocked me, who knows what would have happened. Let us spar when you have the time. I wish to properly face the blade of the Grandmaster of Breathing."
"Hahaha! He is my Tsuguko, so do not bully him too much! You might be the one getting beaten!"
"I look forward to it, then."
It sounds like a bother, to be honest.
Just then, Sakata Gin seemed to recall something and looked toward Rengoku.
"But say, Rengoku. You really gonna keep this lad as your Tsuguko? Lookin' at his skill or anythin' else, he don't seem like the type to stay under someone. His Breathing is different, and he don't seem to have much to learn from you, eh?"
"That is true. Based on his prowess and the achievement of passing down the Breathing techniques, Michikatsu-dono is more than qualified to be a Hashira himself."
"Indeed! However, there are requirements to become a Hashira! To begin with, I only took Michikatsu-shonen as a Tsuguko because he needed a home to support his family! I never intended to teach him anything! If anything, I am the one receiving instruction!"
What are you talking about? I'm just an ordinary man who desperately needs your teaching.
"By the way, what are the requirements to reach the rank of Hashira?"
Isn't a Hashira just the top of the ladder? Don't you just ascend naturally once you hit certain results?
"Ha! There are two ways! First, you must slay fifty Demons to be promoted to Hashira! Second, if a Hashira dies, their Tsuguko takes their place! Though the approval of the other Hashira is required!"
"That is why we Hashira raise Tsuguko as our direct disciples. We don't have time to teach everyone, and a vacancy among the Hashira is a heavy blow. You never know when you'll kick the bucket in this line of work, right?"
Does she usually say things like that while smiling?
"Rengoku here was also the Tsuguko to the former Flame Hashira. He inherited the seat when his father passed. O'course, he'd already slaughtered fifty of the bastards by then, so his promotion was a done deal anyway..."
"Well, that is all in the past!"
...This guy isn't right in the head either.
***
I was weak.
Because I was weak, I suffered wounds, lost an arm, and failed to protect the nephew my brother had entrusted to me.
The legs that once allowed me to deceive Demons could no longer move forward, and the arm that helped me maintain a relentless assault had been severed.
I wandered aimlessly.
With only legs that could not run and a single remaining arm, how could I ever hope to hunt a Demon?
Thus, the man who was once the Mist Hashira vanished.
One day, while I was drifting from place to place and living in a dilapidated shack, I met a child.
Born as the daughter of a high-ranking noble, she was a child who had lost everything to the Demons.
I did not know why she sought me out. I had nothing left.
But that child forced me to stand again.
'To save the weak is the duty of those born strong. It is a mission that must be fulfilled with responsibility.'
Despite losing everything to the Demons, this child said she did not hunt them because she wanted to, but because she had to.
I felt a surge of shame.
Yes, an old man should be of more use before he dies. I cannot falter here; I must become stronger. I must pass on even stronger techniques to this child so that she, at least, does not perish.
From then on, I swung my sword once more and taught her everything.
Then, Rengoku came to me bearing something called 'Breathing.'
This Breathing was truly a magnificent thing. It amplified all physical capabilities and made impossible movements possible.
However, it felt as though something was misaligned; the more I used it, the more out of place I felt.
Rengoku told me this: that breathing was the 'Source.' I had to adapt it, integrate it into my own style, and find a new breathing technique.
Yet, while every other Hashira mastered their own breathing within a week, I could not grasp it even after fifteen days had passed.
Is the Mist truly not enough?
Am I unable to escape my past?
Then, the Master's Kasugai Crow arrived with news that a Hashira Meeting was to begin.
I was no longer a Hashira, so why had the Master summoned even me?
I intended to refuse, but when I heard that the Tsuguko who had passed the Breathing to Rengoku was coming, I decided to go.
I felt that, perhaps, he would know the answer.
"So you are the Tsuguko Rengoku brought in."
He was different from what I had imagined.
He felt like a man where pettiness and sincerity coexisted.
The skill he showed in blocking the Wind Hashira's strike, the whining of a pouting child, yet something deep within. It was as if a child was encased in a serious shell, yet his gaze was fixed on something else entirely.
A feeling as if he belonged to a different world.
After observing my breathing, which was similar to mist, he suggested searching not within the Source, but within the imitation itself.
But to find an imitation within an imitation... wouldn't that only make it weaker?
Weakness is unacceptable. How could I ever pass something weak on to that child?
However, he replied that imitating an imitation is, in fact, an opportunity for improvement—a way to move further ahead.
That answer struck me with the force of a physical blow.
Ha.
I suppose I really have grown old, to be acting so sentimentally.
Find your own imitation within a similar imitation. Immediately after hearing those words, all surrounding noise vanished.
Hoooooooo.
A faint mist began to rise, thick and white.
Schliing.
I slowly drew my blade.
They say all humans are imitations of apes, and all gods are imitations of humans.
Shiiiiiiii.
Apologies, but this old man doesn't understand such difficult words.
Still, to think that imitating an imitation doesn't necessarily mean becoming weaker.
Hoooooooo.
Mist Breathing.
Third Form: Scattering Mist Splash.
A high-speed circular slash that clears the surrounding area as if cutting through the mist itself.
As I sheathed my sword, the mist vanished, and I saw Tsugikuni staring at me.
My thanks to you. For loosening my mind and limbs that had grown so stiff.
***
Oh, for heaven's sake.
That old man succeeded too?
At this point, I'm starting to think I'm just an idiot for wasting three years.
Those three long years of agonizing gap... they're over now.
From now on... I'm just going to lie flat on the floor.