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The Sakuragi family and the Rengoku family shared a deep, forgotten history.
Decades ago, Kael's grandfather, Sakuragi Rukawa, had studied the fundamentals of Flame Breathing under Kyojuro's grandfather. Rukawa had even held Kyojuro as an infant. Seeing the boy now, grown into a warrior whose aura burned like a bonfire, deeply moved the old man.
After a quick debrief on the mountain, Rengoku Kyojuro learned that the Tiger Demon—a threat that should have required a coordinated Corps effort—had been dismantled by Kael with bare hands. Kyojuro didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, clapped Kael on the shoulder with enough force to ground a normal man, and let out a booming laugh.
"UMAI! Well done! It is a fortunate stroke of luck you were here, otherwise I would have arrived to find only ash!"
"I was just looking after my own troublesome old man," Kael replied, his tone leaning into his Calculating Survivor persona. He was still adapting to Kyojuro's high-octane passion. The Slayer's eyes were like searchlights, looking at Kael as if he were a prototype of a new, god-tier weapon.
Beating a Mutant Demon to death with raw kinetic force? Kyojuro thought. His muscle density must be off the charts. If he joined the Corps, he would reach the rank of Hashira in a single season.
However, despite his excitement, Kyojuro didn't offer an invitation. He knew the life of a Slayer was a path of blood and short lifespans. Unless Kael sought the fire himself, Kyojuro would let him remain in the "safety" of civilian life.
"Who are you calling troublesome?! Show some respect, you brat!" Rukawa shouted, swinging his staff, but Kael was already a blur, using Kyojuro's massive frame as a human shield.
"Senior Sakuragi, please, calm yourself!" Kyojuro said, laughing as Kael ducked behind his flame-patterned haori.
"Show the Flame Hashira some respect, Kael!" Rukawa barked.
"Senior Sakuragi, I have not yet attained the rank of Hashira," Kyojuro corrected with a grin. While the Rengoku line was destined for the position, he was still one major feat away from the title.
"Hashira? Sounds like high-tier Chrome," Kael remarked, feigning ignorance while filing the term away under 'Strategic Assets.'
Back in the village, Rukawa insisted on hosting Kyojuro. He whipped up a simple bowl of noodle soup—the only thing he could manage in the middle of the night. Kyojuro, whose appetite was as legendary as his spirit, didn't hold back.
"DELICIOUS!!" he roared after the first bite.
Kael looked down at his own bowl. It was salty enough to pickle a horse. He's either the most polite man on Earth or his taste buds are as fried as an Arasaka server, Kael thought, stoically finishing his portion.
The next morning, Kael awoke to the sound of displaced air. He looked into the courtyard to see Kyojuro exercising shirtless, his movements so fast they created miniature shockwaves.
"Good morning, Kael!" Kyojuro shouted without breaking rhythm. "Did you sleep well?"
"Like a log. What's the workout?"
"UMAI! Why don't you join me? I wish to see the limits of your strength for myself!"
Kael felt a spark of interest. He needed a benchmark. Kyojuro was the closest thing to a "Boss-level" combatant he'd met in this world. "What do you have in mind? Sparring?"
"LET US ARM WRESTLE!!"
"..." Kael stared at him. That's the workout? He stepped forward anyway, rolling up his sleeves. He gripped Kyojuro's hand; it was calloused, thick, and radiated a constant heat, like a running engine.
"Ready?" Kyojuro asked, his eyes wide and unblinking.
"Go."
Kael didn't hesitate. He channeled thirty percent of his Power of Six into his forearm.
CRACK.
The bluestone tea table beneath them didn't just break; it detonated into gravel. Kyojuro's hand was slammed into the debris. Kael winced. Shit. Still too much power. I need to calibrate for 'human' durability.
"INCREDIBLE!!" Kyojuro shouted, his excitement undimmed by the loss of the table.
"MY TABLE?! You metal-headed brat, what did you do?!" Rukawa screamed, running out of the house. He completely ignored Kyojuro—that was someone else's child—and went straight for Kael. Kael promptly shoved Kyojuro in the way again.
Over the next three days, the dynamic shifted. Kael realized that to survive the high-tier demons, he needed more than just strength; he needed to "overclock" his bio-rhythm.
"Breathing Styles are the key," Kyojuro explained. "They allow a human to match the physical output of a demon by maximizing oxygen intake and blood circulation."
"Can I learn it?" Kael asked directly.
"Kael!" Rukawa hissed, worried his grandson was courting a death sentence.
"Relax, old man. I'm not joining the Corps yet. I just want to make sure the next time a ghost pops up, I can turn it into a flatline before it reaches the village."
Kyojuro agreed instantly. He didn't believe in hoarding knowledge when humanity was at stake. "I have never taught before, Kael! I was self-taught from three volumes of my family's records! But I will give you everything I have!"
It was a mistake on Kyojuro's part to worry about his teaching skills. Kael's learning speed, boosted by the collective processing power of his other selves, was "excessive." By the third day, Kael was already proficient in the primary forms of Flame Breathing.
"Dinner's ready, Kyojuro!" Kael called out.
"COMING, BIG BROTHER!" Kyojuro roared, leaping into the kitchen.
Kael had taken over the cooking duties to save his own palate from his grandfather's "cuisine." After learning that Kael was a few months older, Kyojuro had adopted the title of "Little Brother" with zero ego. To him, Kael was a marvel—not just in combat, but in the kitchen.
Kael placed a massive wooden basin—the kind used for washing faces—full of Yuxiang Shredded Pork over rice in front of Kyojuro.
"Big Brother, you are a genius of the culinary arts!" Kyojuro said, shoveling food into his mouth with the speed of a wood-chipper. He ate three basin-sized helpings, his face glowing with pure satisfaction.
Just as he finished, a Kasugai crow wearing a stylish clover decoration landed on his shoulder. Kyojuro's cheerful expression hardened instantly into a mask of duty.
"I must go. A mission awaits."
He pulled a hand-inked manual from his haori and handed it to Kael. "These are my personal insights on Flame Breathing. I wrote them for you over the last few nights. I hope they serve you well, Big Brother."
"Thank you, Kyojuro," Kael said, feeling a rare pang of genuine respect. "Stay safe out there. Don't become a flatline."
"I WILL NOT! UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!" Kyojuro shouted, turning and sprinting into the distance, his haori fluttering like a trail of fire.
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