Chapter 166: Home Is Mutual Protection
"I'll admit I have a bit of a macho streak when it comes to shouldering the burden, but I still cherish my own life, Shinobu. I certainly don't plan on dying young..."
Akira spoke with absolute, unwavering confidence, but before the final syllable could even leave his lips, a small, calloused hand slapped firmly over his mouth.
"Pah, pah, pah! It is your birthday, and we are standing right in front of your grandfather! Why on earth are you saying such unlucky things?"
Akira tilted his head, gently pulling away from her palm. "My mistake," he conceded without a second of hesitation, a faint, apologetic smile playing on his lips.
In his own mind, however, Akira genuinely believed he took excellent care of himself. Sure, his brutal training sessions with Gyoumei had left him battered and bruised more times than he could count. And yes, there were those two distinct occasions where he had been so severely wounded he barely made it back alive. Not to mention the recent sparring match with the Stone Hashira that had forced him into bed rest for several agonizing days...
But those were just unforeseen accidents. All things considered, he valued his life immensely. He nodded to himself, thoroughly convinced by his own logic.
Shinobu merely stared at him, her lips curling into a dry, utterly unconvinced smile. "Heh..."
"Speaking of cherishing one's well-being," Akira countered, returning her flat stare with a raised brow, "I believe there is someone sitting right in front of me who deserves a lecture far more than I do."
Shinobu's violet eyes immediately darted to the side, suddenly finding the surrounding scenery fascinating. "I... that was strictly for research purposes. And it only happened two or three times."
She knew exactly what he was referring to. Over the past few months, driven by a desperate need to accelerate their pharmacological research alongside Tamayo, Shinobu had ruthlessly compressed her sleep schedule. She had collapsed from sheer exhaustion at her experimental workbench on three separate occasions—incidents that Tamayo had promptly reported to Akira. Getting her away from those toxic fumes and forcing her to breathe some fresh air was half the reason Akira had dragged her out today.
To her credit, the grueling, sleepless nights shared by Shinobu and Tamayo had yielded terrifyingly effective results. Their anti-demon toxins had evolved drastically. When tested against the blood samples Akira had harvested from Upper Rank Six, the new compound displayed a devastatingly lethal reaction.
While a single dose wasn't guaranteed to outright melt an Upper Rank demon, it was potent enough to severely cripple their regeneration. In the lethal, high-speed dance of Hashira-level combat, that momentary lag was all a swordsman needed to sever a head. If they could synthesize a concentrated dose, there was a genuine possibility of poisoning an Upper Moon to death. Even their monstrous cellular regeneration had its absolute limits.
Their breakthroughs weren't purely offensive, either. By reverse-engineering the demonic cellular structure, they had formulated a potent emergency coagulant and stabilizer for human use. Barring completely pulverized internal organs, a single injection could forcibly stabilize a dying slayer's vital signs for over an hour, buying precious time for medical evacuation.
More, the holy grail of their research—the cure to revert demons back into humans—was finally taking shape. It wasn't complete, but they had established a theoretically viable foundation. Now, it was just a grueling matter of trial, error, and endless refinement.
Logically, the monumental leaps in their research justified the heavy toll on Shinobu's health. But emotionally? Everyone at the Butterfly Mansion would gladly trade years of research progress just to see her sleep a full night.
Trapped under Akira's unwavering, affectionate gaze, Shinobu's defensive posture melted into a helpless sigh. "Alright, alright. I will be more careful from now on."
The truth was, she wasn't the only one pushing her limits. Every girl in Akira's orbit had been quietly driving themselves to the brink of exhaustion lately. They all saw how he operated—how he constantly tried to shield them, attempting to shoulder the weight of the entire war so they could live in a safe, stable little world.
But none of them were content to just sit safely behind his back. They wanted to stand beside him.
Kanae and Makomo had silently doubled the intensity of their daily sword forms. Mitsuri had actively sought out Gyoumei, volunteering for the Stone Hashira's hellish physical conditioning. Even quiet little Kanao had approached Akira of her own volition, confessing that she had been secretly mastering Total Concentration Breathing, subjecting her small body to an agonizingly rigorous regimen.
Every girl capable of wielding a blade was desperately sharpening her fangs, terrified of becoming a liability the next time Akira faced an Upper Moon. And Shinobu? Lacking the physical strength to decapitate a demon, her only weapon was her mind. She locked herself in the laboratory, brewing toxins and medicines, praying her creations would be the difference between Akira coming home bruised or not coming home at all.
"I know," Akira murmured, his voice dropping to a gentle, rumbling timber. He reached out, pulling her slender frame into his embrace. "You, Kanae, Makomo, Mitsuri, Kanao... I know you are all pushing yourselves for my sake. But you have to understand, just seeing you all safe and healthy is the greatest support I could ever ask for."
Shinobu did not resist. She wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest. She listened to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat, breathing in the crisp, reassuring scent of his uniform.
"How could we just sit back and watch you exhaust yourself while we do nothing?" she whispered into his haori, voicing the collective thoughts of every woman waiting for him back home. "We are family, aren't we? Family means facing the nightmare together. Only a stubborn idiot like you would think that carrying the weight of the world alone is just a matter of course."
She lifted a hand, her slender finger lightly tapping against his chest, right over his heart.
"We might not have your monstrous strength, but we aren't fragile little dolls that break at the slightest breeze. We know exactly what goes on in that head of yours, Akira."
She paused, her voice softening into something deeply tender.
"You think you are too greedy. You feel guilty that you cannot dedicate yourself to just one of us, so you carry this massive, invisible debt in your heart. You constantly try to compensate us by bleeding yourself dry to keep us safe."
She tilted her head up, her violet eyes locking onto his, fierce and uncompromising.
"Has it ever occurred to you that since we willingly accepted you just the way you are, we could never hold any resentment toward you?"
"Love is not a transaction, Akira. It cannot be quantified or weighed on a scale. The moment we accepted each other—the moment we became a family—all those imaginary debts ceased to exist. Family is about concern. It is a bond, a mutual reliance, a shared responsibility. It was never meant to be a burden."
"So please, stop subconsciously lowering your head when you look at us. Stop treating yourself like a debtor trying to pay off a loan. That is not how a family works."
Akira listened in absolute silence. His large hand moved rhythmically, gently stroking her smooth, dark hair as her words washed over him, dismantling walls he hadn't even realized he had built. The concept of home and family was something he had been quietly wrestling with ever since his deep conversation with Gyoumei.
For the longest time, he had operated under a singular belief: a family was a treasure worth sacrificing his very soul to protect. It wasn't inherently wrong, but as Shinobu so eloquently pointed out, it was tragically one-sided. A true home could never be sustained if only one pillar was holding up the roof.
His family wasn't just a collection of fragile treasures meant to be shielded behind his back. They were his shield, too. They were the ones who would catch him when he finally stumbled.
Whether it was the quiet peach orchards of Momoyama or the bustling halls of the Butterfly Mansion, both places housed the people he cherished most in this world. But the truth went both ways. Just as he bled for them, Kuwajima Jigorō, Shinobu, Kanae, and the rest of his chaotic, beautiful family were fiercely protecting him in return.
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