"For weapons that are inconvenient to carry, like Banryū, placing a Summoning Technique on them allows you to call them out anytime."
Uchiha Kasage spoke casually, rotating his wrist as he gave Banryū a few light swings.
A moment later, he released the technique.
Poof!
A burst of smoke exploded, and Banryū vanished from his hand.
Kasage turned to Kikyo with a faint smile.
"When you're not using it, just release the summoning."
Kikyo's gaze lingered on his now-empty hand, a quiet spark lighting her eyes.
Nearby, Inuyasha and the others had already been drawn in by the sight.
Kikyo lowered her gaze to the white bracers on her wrists.
"…And mine?" she asked softly. "Do they summon my bow and arrows?"
"Exactly."
Kasage nodded, a trace of warmth in his eyes.
"Try using the spiritual power inside you. It's simple."
"…Alright."
Kikyo stepped closer to him, steadying herself.
She gently guided her spiritual power into the bracer.
Poof!
White mist rose from her left hand.
When it cleared—
her familiar demon-slaying bow rested firmly in her grip.
A faint look of surprise crossed her face.
She turned to the other bracer and channeled her power again.
Another burst of smoke.
This time, a full quiver of arrows appeared in her right hand.
Kikyo tested it, following Kasage's earlier instructions.
Poof. Poof.
The bow and quiver disappeared one after another.
She looked back at him, her gaze softer now.
"…You asked for my bow and arrows before… was it for this?"
Kasage smiled.
"That's right."
His voice lowered slightly, more gentle now.
"This way, you won't have to carry them everywhere… and you won't be left unprepared if something happens."
He paused, then added,
"There's something else. On your right bracer—there's another formula hidden beside the summoning one. Try channeling your power into it."
Kikyo looked more closely.
As he said, beneath the "Arrow" formula, there was another, more subtle inscription.
She slowly infused it with spiritual power.
Poof.
This time—
only a single demon-slaying arrow appeared in her palm.
"I made that for emergencies," Kasage explained quietly.
He stepped closer and gently took her wrist, turning it slightly to show her.
"It's not a Summoning Technique, but a miniature Sealing Technique. Similar to my sealing scrolls… but compressing it into something this small was… troublesome."
His tone carried a faint hint of self-mockery.
"You can store up to three arrows inside. Each time you inject spiritual power, one comes out. No need to summon the quiver—you can draw and fire immediately."
As he spoke, he took the arrow from her hand and pressed it lightly against the seal.
Poof.
It vanished back into the bracer.
"Releasing the seal requires chakra," he added. "Once you take one out, it either needs to be resealed or replaced… which I'll have to handle."
He let go of her wrist slowly, his gaze lingering.
"It's not perfect… but it should be enough in emergencies."
For a brief moment, there was silence.
"…Well?" he asked, a faint expectation in his voice. "Do you like it?"
Kikyo raised her hands slightly, looking at the bracers.
Her pale skin, the white leather, and the dark inscriptions formed a quiet, elegant contrast.
A soft smile appeared in her eyes.
"I like it."
Her voice was gentle—yet sincere.
Something warm stirred in Kasage's chest.
Then—
before he could react—
Kikyo stepped closer.
She rose lightly onto her toes.
And kissed him.
Just the corner of his lips.
Soft. Brief.
But unmistakably real.
When she pulled back, there was a faint, playful glimmer in her eyes.
"This is your reward."
"W-Wha—?! They… they kissed!" Sango blurted out, her face instantly turning red.
"Shippō, don't look!" Kagome covered Shippō's eyes—though she herself stared without blinking.
Inuyasha leaned against a tree, arms crossed.
His expression flickered—something unreadable passing through his eyes—before he turned his head away in silence.
"…Hah. Men…" Miroku sighed.
Yet his hand, as always, betrayed him—reaching toward Sango.
Thwack!
The Hiraikotsu struck his head instantly.
"Ow—!"
Miroku winced, looking up at Sango's cold glare.
"Hmph. Men."
Ignoring the chaos around them, Kasage slipped an arm around Kikyo's waist and leaned closer, his voice low and amused.
"There were two bracers… so one reward is still missing."
Kikyo's face flushed faintly.
She quickly covered his mouth with her hand, her voice barely above a whisper.
"…Everyone is watching."
She hesitated for a moment, then added softly,
"I'll owe you the other one… later. Alright?"
Kasage's eyes curved slightly.
"…Fine. I'll remember that."
He gently pinched her cheek, his expression clearly satisfied.
At that moment—
a faint, eerie melody drifted through the air.
"Pure is foul, foul is pure…
Good is evil, evil is good…
Life is death, death is life…"
A group of children passed by, skipping along as they sang the strange nursery rhyme.
The unsettling words immediately drew everyone's attention.
"…That song is strange," Kagome said, frowning. "Clean is clean, dirty is dirty… how can they say pure is foul?"
Kasage didn't answer immediately.
His gaze followed the children as they disappeared into the distance.
Then—
he looked toward the mountain ahead.
Mount Hakurei.
Shrouded in thick, white mist.
"What's wrong?" Kikyo asked softly, noticing the shift in his expression.
She followed his gaze.
The mountain stood silent, wrapped in an almost unnatural purity.
"…Kikyo," Kasage said quietly, "what do you think of Mount Hakurei?"
Kikyo observed it carefully.
After a moment, she frowned slightly.
"I can't sense any demonic aura… or evil energy at all."
She paused.
"…But it feels too clean."
Kasage's voice overlapped hers, calm but sharp.
"So clean… it feels unnatural."
Kikyo nodded slowly.
"…As if something like this shouldn't exist in this world."
Her eyes lingered on the mountain.
"Legend says it can purify all sins… perhaps that's why."
Kasage let out a faint, almost mocking breath.
"…Or perhaps not."
His gaze darkened slightly.
"Sometimes… the closer something appears to holiness—"
"—the deeper the darkness it hides."
They had already reached the outer area of Mount Hakurei.
The vegetation was lush.
The air was clear.
Too clear.
Not a single trace of a yokai.
Not even a hint of evil energy.
But Kasage knew.
This "purity" wasn't real.
It was suppression.
Beneath this spotless surface—
something far darker was buried.
Thousands of yokai.
Trapped.
Hidden.
And that nursery rhyme…
wasn't just a song.
It was a warning.