Shinjuro didn't want to talk about his past at first, but after a few drinks and some nudging from Itsuki, he gave in pretty quickly.
Itsuki didn't just buy the alcohol—he actually listened. He'd nod along and laugh at the right times, and honestly, what old man didn't like talking about his glory days to someone who looked up to him?
The more Shinjuro talked, the more alive he seemed. Like he was back in the old days, when his wife was still around and he was still proud to wear the title of Flame Pillar.
As the stories piled up, Shinjuro slowly let down his guard. He stopped pushing Itsuki away and even started to like having him around.
A week passed. At some point, Shinjuro straight-up started calling him his disciple. He even offered to spar without being asked—but only if Itsuki kept bringing the good stuff.
Honestly? A few bottles of sake to get one-on-one training from a former Pillar? That was a steal.
Itsuki agreed immediately and quickly realized just how much he'd been underestimating things. He'd thought his growing strength and stat increases made him a legit demon slayer.
But the second he faced off against Shinjuro for real, that idea got crushed.
It didn't matter how many Breathing Forms he used. The old man could shut them down with just simple footwork and clean technique. It was frustrating as hell—like none of the cool moves he'd worked so hard on even mattered.
After getting tossed around a dozen times, Itsuki laid there in the dirt and finally got it. Knowing a technique wasn't enough. You needed instinct, timing, distance control, experience—all the stuff you only learned by surviving real fights.
And none of that came from just leveling up.
So, after that, Itsuki kept coming back every other day. He'd bring booze, Shinjuro would beat him senseless with the scabbard, and then they'd sit around while the old man bragged about his demon-hunting days. Kanao would sometimes join them, quietly watching and listening.
Their odd little routine kept going, and the two slowly started acting more like real master and student.
Still, getting whacked all the time wasn't exactly fun—especially since Shinjuro always used the scabbard like it was a club. So, this time, Itsuki came prepared. He was ready to shake things up.
He stepped into the yard, carrying a new katana, sunlight glinting off the blade.
A few days ago, he'd told Master Marume Kurando about how things with Shinjuro had turned around, and how his training was going. he had been so happy, he gave Itsuki a high-grade sword on the spot.
But the blade wasn't the point.
The real change came yesterday, when Itsuki spent two saved-up skill points to push his Flame Breathing to Level 2. The difference was night and day. His forms felt sharper, smoother, and didn't strain his body nearly as much.
He could've upgraded weeks ago, but that would've looked too suspicious—like he was some kind of monster prodigy. So, he waited, trained, and let it all look natural.
Now, with that buffer in place, no one would blink twice at his progress.
Muichiro Tokito made Pillar rank in two months. Compared to that, Itsuki's jump didn't seem like such a big deal.
"Oi, you coming or not?" Shinjuro called out, annoyed.
"Yeah, yeah, hold on—"
But before he could finish, Itsuki charged trying to at least make him surprised.
"First Form: Unknowing Fire!"
"Hmph, same old tricks," Shinjuro muttered, raising his blade half-heartedly—until he saw Itsuki close the gap in an instant.
"Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!"
The flame-shaped tiger shot forward, fangs bared.
What the hell? Shinjuro's expression changed. When had this kid gotten so fast?
He had to react quickly moving his nichirin blade just in time to block.
Clang!
The force pushed him back several steps.
Kanao gasped on the sidelines. "He made him move! That's the first time!"
Itsuki grinned. That little bit of surprise was all he needed.
"Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!"
He swung upward from below, making Shinjuro step back again. At the same time, he used the clash to knock his opponent's blade off-angle.
There. A perfect opening.
Instead of using another form—which would take too long—he followed with a simple overhead strike. No flash, just raw speed no need to always use flame breathing when in fights.
And it worked.
The blade came down straight at Shinjuro's face, fast enough to send a sharp breeze across his cheek.
For the first time in a long while, Shinjuro felt a real thrill. The haze from his earlier drinks vanished instantly.
This kid…
Just as the blade was about to land, Shinjuro's expression turned sharp.
"Fourth Form: Blooming Flame Undulation!"
His blade twisted, forming a spinning fire vortex. It caught the attack mid-air and redirected it, sending Itsuki flying straight back.
Again!?
But this time, Shinjuro wasn't just playing around. He'd taken that attack seriously—and sent Itsuki even faster than before.
"Itsuki!"
Kanao raced forward, arms out, catching him in a princess carry before he hit the ground.
Itsuki groaned and blinked up at her embarrassed. Her cheeks were red, but she didn't look away and looked straight at his eyes.
"…Thanks," he muttered.
Kanao didn't say anything, but she held onto him a little longer than necessary.
Maybe she was just making sure he was okay.
Or maybe not.