Kanao had fallen ill.
It had begun the day she remained in the rain from dawn until night, not a single grain of rice passing her lips. Even then, her mind had already been clouded, her thoughts drifting in and out like mist. And layered atop that frailty was the violent swing of her emotions—from crushing despair to overwhelming joy. For someone so young, it was far more than she should ever have been made to endure.
So it was no surprise that not long after Soma carried her out of the mountains, her body began to burn with fever, her consciousness slipping into a hazy blur.
Only then did Soma come back to himself, shaken out of the lingering exhilaration of basking in sunlight.
Without delay, he searched nearby and found the most reputable physician he could.
…
Inside a comfortable room, the girl lay nestled beneath soft blankets, drifting in and out of sleep.
"How is she?"
At her side, Soma grasped the elderly physician's hand, unable to conceal the tension in his voice.
"She will be fine. Nothing too serious," the old man reassured him. "Once she takes the medicine and rests properly, she'll recover quickly. There's no need for excessive worry."
Yet even as he spoke, there was a trace of reproach in his tone. "The child's constitution is fairly strong—had she been more delicate, this might have ended poorly. As her guardian, you should have been more attentive."
"It's my fault."
The words came quietly, heavy with guilt.
The physician had more to say, but seeing the remorse etched across Soma's face, he held back, offering only a gentle reminder instead. "You must take greater care in the future. Children are fragile. Even a minor illness can lead to serious consequences."
"I will. I'll make sure of it," Soma nodded earnestly.
"Have her take the medicine on time and ensure she rests well. That will suffice. I should be on my way now."
"Understood." Soma nodded, pulling out a significant sum of money and handing it to the physician.
"This is too much," the physician said, startled.
"Please accept it, sir. If anything happens later, I may need to trouble you again."
Before the old man could refuse further, Soma had already placed the money into his medical case. "I am truly grateful for your help."
"If there are any problems, notify me immediately. I will come at once."
"Thank you."
…
Dawn broke through the thinning veil of mist, casting a gentle radiance across the horizon.
Birdsong stirred the quiet morning, each note carrying droplets of dew that fell softly onto the earth. The grass cradled beads of moisture like scattered diamonds, refracting the first strands of golden light into countless shimmering sparks.
All things seemed suspended in a cool, tranquil stillness, as though awaiting the sun to drape the world in a pale golden veil.
Kanao awoke slowly, her thoughts sluggish, her head aching dully. Her throat was dry, her body weighed down by discomfort.
Somewhere in that haze, she sensed a presence beside her.
Her eyes fluttered open.
There, seated quietly at her side, was her uncle, holding a cup of warm water, watching over her in silence.
"You're awake, Kanao."
Soma reached out, resting a hand on the girl's forehead. She was still running a bit hot.
"Uncle…"
She tried to sit up, but a gentle pressure on her shoulder stopped her.
"You're still sick. You need to rest."
"But… Kanao wants to train." She bit her lip, her voice soft but insistent.
"You can train once you've recovered."
His tone was firm—calm, yet leaving no room for argument.
"…Alright."
Though reluctant, she yielded. To her, her uncle's will outweighed everything—far more than her own desires, even more than her life itself.
"Are you thirsty? Have some water first. I've made some porridge—it'll be ready soon."
"A little…"
Her reply was barely above a whisper.
Carefully, he helped her sit up, letting her lean against his shoulder, before bringing the cup to her lips.
The water was gentle, soothing as it touched her mouth.
After a small sip, she lifted her gaze.
Sunlight streamed in through the window behind him, falling across his profile in soft gold.
And somehow, her body didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.
"Good morning, Uncle," she said quietly, her voice carrying the softness of dawn itself.
"Good morning, Kanao," Soma replied, his tone just as gentle.
After helping her drink, he laid her back down with care and went to the kitchen. The porridge had just finished cooking; he returned shortly after, carrying the steaming bowl.
Though illness had stolen much of her appetite, Kanao still forced herself to eat a little.
Though her mind still drifted in a lingering haze, Kanao found herself wanting to speak, to remain awake just a little longer in her uncle's presence. Yet under Soma's gentle insistence, she could only close her eyes once more and surrender to rest.
By noon, the sunlight had grown warm and steady, spilling softly across the world outside.
After sleeping through the entire morning, Kanao's condition had improved somewhat. Still, lying in bed for so long left her feeling restless, her body stiff with discomfort.
So Soma, somehow, had found a large rocking chair. Lining it with thick, soft bedding, he carefully lifted her into his arms and settled her upon it, tucking a heavy quilt snugly around her before wheeling her outside into the embrace of the sun.
The light fell gently upon her delicate features, illuminating her pale, refined face. Her long, graceful lashes trembled faintly in the breeze, like fragile wings brushing against the air.
"What would you like to eat later? I'll make it for you."
"Anything is fine."
"There must be something you're craving."
"As long as you make it, Uncle, anything is fine."
"Well, that makes things difficult," he sighed, scratching his head with exaggerated frustration. "With no requests at all, how am I supposed to decide what to cook?"
"Um…"
Kanao hesitated. She didn't want to trouble him, yet thinking of what she wanted was never easy. More often than not, she simply followed his guidance, content to act according to his wishes rather than her own. The presence of "want" itself felt unfamiliar to her.
After a pause, she spoke softly, almost uncertainly.
"Then… chicken drumsticks. The first time we met, Uncle bought Kanao a drumstick."
"Hah… you still remember that?"
"I won't forget," she replied in a quiet voice.
Soma smiled, his thoughts drifting back to that night—to the frail, skeletal girl he had encountered, so thin she seemed little more than bone and shadow. And now, the child before him had grown into a delicate and striking young girl, her features soft and radiant.
People truly changed in ways one could never quite predict.
"I'll go make it for you." he said lightly, tucking the quilt more securely around her before turning away to get to work.
Before long, he returned with a tray: fragrant chicken drumsticks, a bowl of steaming porridge, and a few simple side dishes.
Setting everything beside her, he pulled up a stool and sat close, feeding her carefully.
All Kanao needed to do was part her lips, and the food would be brought gently to her mouth. If even the slightest trace of oil lingered at the corner of her lips, it was quickly wiped away with a soft, warm cloth.
She was being cared for with quiet, meticulous tenderness.
After another bite of chicken, Kanao lifted her pale violet eyes and looked at him.
"Here, have another spoonful of porridge."
Soma scooped up a small portion, cooled to just the right temperature, and held it to her lips.
She opened her mouth obediently, the warmth of the porridge spreading gently through her body, soothing her from within. A faint mist seemed to gather in her eyes as she spoke, her voice soft and fragile.
"Uncle… why are you so good to me?"
"Hm?"
He glanced down at her.
It wasn't the first time she had asked this. The very first time he had given her a chicken drumstick, she had asked the same question.
Back then, it had meant little to him—just food, nothing more.
And yet now, after all this time, the question returned.
He looked at her, just as she looked at him—searching, as though seeking an answer that could anchor her. The girl before him was no longer the hollow, starving child of that night, her skin clinging to bone. Now her complexion was soft and luminous, her beauty almost unreal, as though she had been reborn into an entirely different person.
"Because you deserve it, Kanao."
He reached out and gently tapped her small nose, his voice warm and certain as he repeated,
"Because you deserve it."
Kanao froze for a moment, her gaze fixed on him.
"…Someone like me… deserves that?"
Could a person like her—like wild grass, unnoticed and easily trampled—truly deserve such kindness from someone like him?
"Of course," he said with a soft smile. "Meeting you—that's my good fortune."
He brought another spoonful of porridge to her lips.
She swallowed it slowly, her eyes never leaving him as she murmured,
"No… it's Kanao who is fortunate."
Soma only glanced at her, choosing not to argue over who owed fortune to whom. Instead, he continued feeding her with patient care.
"I'm full." After a few more bites, Kanao tilted her head back slightly. "Uncle should eat too… you need to eat properly. Don't go hungry."
"Alright."
Soma remained by her side and began to eat as well.
He had prepared more than enough food—far beyond what Kanao could manage—yet for him, it was just right. In the past, when he had still been a demon, such meals had been no different from swallowing dust: tasteless, hollow, offering neither satisfaction nor strength. But now, everything had changed. Not only could he savor each flavor, rich and vivid upon his tongue, but he could also feel, however faintly, the nourishment seeping into his body, quietly restoring what had long been absent.
The sensation was subtle, almost imperceptible, yet undeniably real.
And after enduring hunger for so long, the simple act of eating—of truly tasting—felt like an indescribable luxury. He ate with an unrestrained appetite, each bite filled with a quiet, almost childlike satisfaction.
Reclining in the rocking chair, Kanao watched him. Seeing the way he ate so heartily, almost without restraint, a gentle smile spread across her delicate features.
"Uncle…"
Her voice was soft, barely more than a breath.
Soma looked up, meeting her gaze with quiet curiosity.
"Good afternoon, Uncle."
For a moment, he seemed taken aback—then a smile touched his lips.
"Good afternoon, Kanao."
...
After finishing the meal and clearing away the dishes, Soma brought over a stool and sat beside her, keeping her company beneath the open sky.
The sunlight rested warmly upon their skin, gentle and comforting. For Soma, however, there remained a faint discomfort—an echo of what he once was. A creature of darkness could never wholly belong beneath the sun.
Still, it was only a trace, nothing more.
Together, they watched the sky drift lazily overhead, clouds rolling and unfurling in quiet procession. Time slipped by unnoticed, until the sun began its descent, staining the horizon in deep crimson hues. Only then did Soma rise once more to prepare their evening meal.
Kanao, lulled by warmth and stillness, drifted into a light sleep upon the rocking chair, waking only when the scent of dinner reached her.
Once again, the table was filled with an abundant spread. This time, her appetite had returned more fully; she ate more than she had at noon, color returning to her face, her expression noticeably brighter.
The haze had lifted from her mind, and when she pressed a hand to her forehead, the fever had begun to recede, the heat fading little by little.
"It seems you're recovering quite well," Soma said with a smile.
Kanao smiled along with him, though a trace of disappointment soon followed. "It's just… I didn't get to train today. I wanted to practice my sword a little, but Uncle wouldn't allow it."
"With your condition, how could you possibly train?" His tone was firm, though not unkind. "And in the future, you're not allowed to push yourself so hard either."
"Was I really pushing myself that much?"
She blinked, her eyes filled with genuine confusion.
"You were."
"But it still feels far from enough," she murmured. "That time we met that demon—Akaza… compared to him, Kanao is still so weak."
"He is a demon. You are human. Don't measure yourself against something like that."
Though reluctance lingered in her heart, the sternness in his gaze left little room for protest. She could only stick out her tongue slightly, a small, obedient gesture of surrender.
"I understand, Uncle."
As the final traces of sunlight faded, the world gradually slipped into darkness. Above them, the night sky blossomed with countless stars, scattered like jewels across a vast, silent canvas.
Soma stayed with her a while longer, watching the stars together, before finally lifting her gently in his arms and carrying her back inside.
"Time to sleep, Kanao."
"Mm."
"Shall I put out the light?"
He glanced back at the flickering candle in the room.
"Mm."
Her answer was soft. She preferred the darkness—more than that, she preferred being in it with him. It was a habit formed long ago, one she had never let go.
With a nod, Soma extinguished the flame.
The room fell into darkness at once. In that quiet, Kanao felt the blanket around her shoulders being adjusted again, carefully tucked as though he feared even the slightest chill might reach her.
"Close your eyes. Go to sleep."
His voice came softly through the dark.
"Mm."
She closed her delicate pink-violet eyes, and the world dissolved into blackness. Yet there was no fear—only a deep, quiet sense of safety, for she knew he was still there, right beside her.
"Good night, Kanao."
This time, it was he who spoke first.
"Good night, Uncle."
Her reply was gentle, her heart filled with warmth and ease. Slowly, sleep came to claim her, her breathing evening out into a soft, steady rhythm.
Soma remained at her side, watching as a faint smile curved upon her sleeping lips. A quiet laugh escaped him, though this time, his words were spoken only within his heart—
Good night, Kanao Tsuyuri.
...
Drop some POWERSTONES to push the story forward!
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin