Chapter 83 – Before the Confession!
Time passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, the final exams at Sobu High were over.
With that, the most anticipated season for all students had arrived—summer vacation.
Two long, blissful months of freedom stretched before them, from early July until the end of August.
For most, it was a time of rest and leisure.
But for Yukinoshita Akira, summer vacation meant something entirely different.
He spent most of his time at home, gathering and analyzing information about demons—tracking rumors, reading reports, and following any possible trail. Even a small clue could become critical. Preparation was everything.
Meanwhile, Yukinoshita Yukino devoted her days entirely to training. Morning to evening, she practiced her breathing techniques inside the apartment where they lived.
As for Yukinoshita Haruno, family responsibilities often pulled her away. Though she visited occasionally, she now possessed her own Nichirin Blade and had fully mastered the basics of Flame Breathing, giving her the strength to protect herself.
Busujima Saeko, on the other hand, had returned to her family estate at the start of the break. Something about a formal gathering. Akira didn't pry. He simply handed her one of his Nichirin Blades and wished her well.
At present, Akira still had ten Nichirin Blades in total. Even after giving some away, the number never truly dwindled.
There was a reason for that.
Every time his Inheritance Progress rose by one percent, the system granted him another Nichirin Blade.
Now, his inheritance rate from Yoriichi Tsugikuni had reached 39.8%, and with the first katana he had ever received, the total had reached ten blades.
— — —
[Name]: Yukinoshita Akira
[Identity]: Wanderer from Another World
[Template Inheritance]: Yoriichi Tsugikuni (39.8%)
[Breathing Styles]: Sun Breathing, Water Breathing, Thunder Breathing, Flame Breathing, Stone Breathing, Wind Breathing
[Talents]: Demon Slayer Mark, Swordmastery Divine Path, Sword Heart
[Abilities]: Swordsmanship Lv.8
[Equipment]: Nichirin Blade ×7, Murata Blade
[Item]: Phoenix Tear ×1
— — —
At 39.8% inheritance and Swordsmanship Level 8, Akira was confident.
He could face any of the Upper Moon demons—anyone except for Kokushibo, the Upper Moon One.
That man was different.
It wasn't merely about power. Kokushibo had once been a human swordsman who reached the very peak of the blade's path. His mastery of Moon Breathing, a derived form of Sun Breathing, was legendary.
Even after turning into a demon, Kokushibo continued training for hundreds of years, obsessively honing his skills in pursuit of perfection—driven by his endless envy of the younger brother who had surpassed him, Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
He possessed both the Demon Slayer Mark and Transparent World, a feat almost impossible for anyone else.
Even Muzan Kibutsuji, arrogant and prideful as he was, treated Kokushibo with respect.
Because unlike the others, Kokushibo was true power incarnate.
— — —
Riiing—Riiing—
The sound of a phone cut through the quiet room.
"Hello, this is Yukinoshita Akira."
He spoke calmly as he picked up, though he already knew who was on the other end. Very few people even had his private number.
"It's me, Hiratsuka Shizuka."
"What is it, Shizuka-sensei?"
"There's an outdoor activity planned by the Service Club. You and Yukino—be at Chiba Station tomorrow morning."
"Understood."
"…You're not even going to ask what kind of activity it is?"
"Even if I ask, you wouldn't give me a chance to refuse, would you?"
"Wha—?! That's not—"
"See you tomorrow, Shizuka-sensei."
Click.
The line went dead.
For a few seconds, Hiratsuka stared blankly at her phone, then slammed her hand on her desk.
"That brat! He hung up on me mid-conversation!"
Her veins pulsed. The urge to punch him tomorrow was strong—very strong.
But then her eyes drifted to the Nichirin Blade hanging by the wall. Her anger faded as quickly as it had flared.
She sighed deeply. "...Fine. Maybe I'll just hit him lightly next time."
No matter how she looked at it, Akira's strength had already far surpassed hers.
And besides, he was the one who had taught her Breathing Techniques—the same one who had gifted her that sword capable of killing demons.
What kind of teacher could possibly complain about that?
She chuckled helplessly to herself, shaking her head.
"Whatever. I'll just send the message to Hachiman now. If I wait, that lazy brat will pretend he never saw it."
She opened her phone and began typing an email addressed to Hikigaya Hachiman.
— — —
Meanwhile, across town in the Miura household—
Miura Yumiko stood in front of her wardrobe, which was wide open. Her bed was buried under an avalanche of dresses, skirts, and accessories.
"Tomorrow's the club trip with Hayato… and we'll be staying overnight too," she murmured to herself, face flushed as she held up a dress. "Under the moonlight… when I confess… he'll definitely fall for me."
Just imagining it made her cheeks glow even redder.
For days, she had been waiting for the perfect moment—and this, she believed, was it. Everything about it felt right.
She could already picture it: a romantic night, her heart racing, Hayato's gentle smile under the stars.
Love made fools of people—especially the young.
When emotions ran deep, logic faded. Hope replaced reason.
The thought of rejection never once crossed her mind.
Or rather… she refused to consider it possible.
Yes, Akira had once bluntly told her that Hayama had used her as a "social shield." Things had been awkward between them after that.
But then Hayama came to her—apologizing sincerely, admitting he'd been wrong, promising to take responsibility.
His words, his expression—so earnest, so warm—completely disarmed her.
Her resentment melted away, replaced with renewed affection.
It should have ended there. That would have been enough.
But to Yumiko, his apology had sounded like something more—like a quiet confession hidden between the lines.
In her mind, it was already a sign.
After all, a guy wouldn't go that far unless he cared, right?
Over the next few days, she began to see signs everywhere—small gestures, imagined meanings—and convinced herself that Hayato felt the same way.
And now, she had decided.
She would take the first step.
Miura Yumiko, ever confident and stubborn, believed with all her heart that she could win his.
She never realized that all of this—the warmth, the kindness, the signs—was just her own wishful illusion.
And because of that… this entire situation was about to turn into something far more complicated than she could ever imagine.
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