When the door opened, a wave of heat and steam billowed out.
Ooooooh...
From within, a single 'zombie' crawled out on its hands and knees.
That zombie-like corpse was, of course, me.
I had been wrung out like a sodden rag.
I may be a demon and I may have manifested the Mark... so my stamina should be infinite... but I nearly went to my grave from sheer exhaustion.
I mean, what even was that?
When one was sent away, another would come in as if changing shifts. When the second was finished, the first had already recovered and was immediately deployed back into the fray.
What kind of infinite loop is this?
And when it looked like I was about to pass out, they would shove blood into my mouth to keep me going...
Michikatsu is not a perpetual motion machine...
Only by somehow managing to knock both of them unconscious at once was I able to escape that hell for a brief moment.
In conclusion, I was not impotent.
Good heavens, even when I thought it was finally over, a few touches and it would stand tall again—truly a resentful state of affairs.
But I also learned another thing: demons cannot father children.
After being wrung dry for three days and nights, I used the Transparent World to inspect the bodies of Uzui and Amano, and I found absolutely no change.
It seems it is true; I have indeed become barren.
Then why on earth was I wrung out for three days straight?
I let out a long sigh and was about to slink away from the room.
"Lord Michikatsu...?"
Oh no, they're already awake—!
"Wait—!"
Before I could finish my sentence, two hands shot out from the room and grabbed my ankles.
Haha.
And just like that, I was dragged back into the inner chamber.
I curse you, Yoriichi!
The next day.
I held up the uniform Lady Shutara had sent, gripping it with both hands.
The garment she provided was quite peculiar.
It was a set that covered every inch of skin, wrapping my entire body, paired with a bamboo hat.
Including gloves, it was an outfit designed to conceal the entire body except for the face.
I hadn't tested it yet, but it was reportedly crafted to minimize skin exposure to the sun as much as possible.
Putting it on, I found it didn't hinder my movement much.
Since Lady Shutara made it, the performance would be beyond doubt... but I must still take care not to let sunlight touch me directly.
Amano and Uzui said they would follow me as soon as they finished their remaining duties. But is it really alright for Amano to come along?
She claimed the Master permitted it under the pretext of having her monitor me alongside Uzui, but I wonder if that's truly the case.
In truth, the Demon Slayer Corps is currently in its 'off-season.'
Because Muzan was thrashed by Yoriichi and scattered like shattered glass fragments, the number and quality of demon attacks have plummeted noticeably.
At this rate, the demons are at a level equal to, or even lower than, those the Corps fought before Breathing Styles were introduced.
Whether Muzan's condition affects other demons or if he is doing this intentionally, I do not know, but regardless, there is little need for Hashira-level powerhouses to take the field.
Of course, as long as Muzan lives, demons will not disappear, and no one knows when things might return to their original state, so it is right for the Corps to persist.
Still, wasting the immense strength of the Hashira just to monitor a single demon seems highly inefficient.
And it's not even a real monitoring, is it? If they truly wanted me watched, they would have assigned Yoriichi.
I suppose this is the Master's own way of showing consideration... but I'm not so sure.
I tied my long hair into a tight topknot to keep it from the sun, put on my hat, and stood up, carrying the Nichirin Blade that Niimiya-san had sharpened one last time.
I had already said my goodbyes to Uta.
I intended to keep it brief since I'll be stopping by occasionally, but Uta cried so much that I was exhausted just trying to comfort her.
I placed a book containing my cooking recipes on top of Uta, who had finally fallen asleep while holding the slumbering Asahi in her arms.
Come to think of it, does this mean Uta is the only one left to look after Yoriichi...?
You'll have a hard time raising two sons on your own from now on, sister-in-law.
I'm genuinely worried about this...
I really should come home often.
After a silly thought and a chuckle, I stroked her hair and Asahi's head before quietly stepping outside.
Stepping into the courtyard, I was met by the sight of the full moon brightly illuminating the dark night.
I looked up at the great moon hanging in the night sky and thought.
A full moon...
The full moon is somewhat special in my case.
Was it not under this very moon that I first created and swung the forms of Moon Breathing?
In a way, it could be said that this full moon announced the true beginning of my path.
Are you, too, offering me your blessing?
"Brother."
I checked the direction of the voice calling me and found Yoriichi standing there.
"Ah, Yoriichi."
"Are you leaving?"
"I must. I will stop by the house from time to time."
Upon hearing my words, Yoriichi handed me something.
"This is..."
What he held was a pair of earrings—the hanafuda charms our mother had fashioned for Yoriichi's ears.
They were his mother's final mementos and treasures he held incredibly dear.
"Why give these to me?"
While I received the earrings and expressed my doubt, he pulled out a flute.
To call it a flute would be generous; it was a crude thing. It was the wooden flute I had made for him when we were children, so he could call for help if our father mistreated him again.
I'm touched that he still has this.
"You still have that thing?"
Yoriichi responded with a smile to my half-hearted laugh.
"I told you then, did I not? That I would think of this flute as you, Brother, and that I would never falter and strive to improve every day, no matter how far apart we are."
He then gestured to the earrings in my hand and continued.
"I ask that you, too, think of these earrings as your younger brother."
This fellow is going to make me tear up.
Who knew he could be so sentimental?
"I will treasure them."
"Thank you, Brother."
Yoriichi gave a deep bow and, for the first time in my presence, played that flute.
The sound was crude and didn't come out quite right.
It was clumsy, full of squeaks and the rushing sound of air.
Yoriichi was playing with utmost sincerity, but the sound was so comical that anyone else listening would have teased him for being terrible at it.
Yet Yoriichi continued to blow into the flute, and that comical melody somehow melted into the landscape bathed in the full moon's light.
I watched Yoriichi as he played.
Soon, there will be few opportunities left for me to put on airs in front of him.
Though I will visit occasionally, I have ultimately decided to operate separately from the Demon Slayer Corps.
I don't know why, but I feel a tinge of regret.
Eventually, Yoriichi's flute performance drew to a close.
"Yoriichi. That was fine music."
"No, Brother."
Yoriichi shook his head as if to deny it.
"If words had a physical form, they perhaps would not reach someone standing in the darkness. However, your melody reached me perfectly, Yoriichi."
I placed a hand on his shoulder and patted it twice.
"I'm heading out now, Yoriichi."
I didn't say 'thank you,' nor was I honest about being afraid.
Since we shall surely meet again, it is not yet time for final farewells.
Yoriichi's eyes widened momentarily, and then he replied with a beaming smile.
"May your journey be safe, Brother."
Hearing his send-off, a smile spread across my face.
Perhaps it is the relief of knowing I have a place to return to.
"Yoriichi, the future is a pitch-black plunge."
This was my final bit of bluster, and the words I most wanted to say to him.
"But nothing can change your world. Walk the path you believe is right."
I opened the gate.
My brother departed the house in that manner.
'Nothing can change your world. Walk the path you believe is right.'
Those words continued to ring in my ears.
The last words he left were likely my brother's final lesson.
That nothing can change my world...
But that is not true.
The thing that changed my world was always standing right in front of me.
I was always spurred by even a single word from my brother, and because of that, my world changed drastically.
That is how I was able to come this far.
"I wonder if I will be able to keep up... with the pace of a world where you are not present, Brother."
But a child grows into an adult, and one cannot act like a spoiled child forever.
Like the passage from the stories my brother told me when we were young: now the bird must struggle to come out of the egg, and he who would be born must first destroy a world—the world of the egg.
This is the first step.
I looked at the gate through which my brother had left, smiled, and turned back into the house.
"Travel safely, Brother."
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