The atmosphere shifted completely.
What had once been warm and filled with quiet pride was now heavy with worry and lingering sadness. Ujiyuki stood in place, unmoving, as the road ahead stretched into the distance. His thoughts drifted endlessly, circling the same realization over and over again.
Time had truly changed everything.
From the winter morning when he had saved a trembling boy from the jaws of a bear, to the countless days of training beneath the rising and setting sun, Sentarō had faced trial after trial. Pain, hardship, fear—he had endured it all. And now, after everything, he had finally achieved his dream.
Yet that dream had carried him forward… and left Ujiyuki behind.
Ujiyuki watched as the boy he had come to love like his own continued walking toward his future. He forced a smile onto his face, trying to hold back the emotions swelling in his chest. But it was futile. A few stubborn tears escaped despite his efforts, rolling slowly down his weathered cheeks.
Shigekatsu stood beside him on the porch, arms folded loosely as he observed the scene. After a moment, he glanced sideways and let out a quiet chuckle.
"Who would have thought," he said with a teasing tone and a cheeky grin, "that the great Ujiyuki would cry because of a student."
"Do not mock me, idiot," Ujiyuki replied sharply, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand.
For a brief moment, the air lightened.
Then it changed again.
This time, it was not sadness or nostalgia. Something sharper crept into the space between them—something fierce. The expressions on both men hardened, the shift subtle but unmistakable.
"He has finally been enlisted," Ujiyuki said slowly, his voice steady and cold. "Then I presume your work here is done?"
"It seems so, nii-san," Shigekatsu replied, his tone still playful, though Ujiyuki sensed the weight beneath it. "And since my task is complete, I'll be reporting back… as per our former discussion."
"Tch."
Ujiyuki clicked his tongue in clear irritation, turning his glare toward Shigekatsu with such intensity it felt sharp enough to cut through steel. Shigekatsu noticed immediately and raised his hands in mock surrender.
"No need to look at me like that, Ujiyuki nii-san," he said lightly. "I simply follow orders."
Shigekatsu turned and began walking back into the house. Just before disappearing inside, he stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"Anyway, thank you for the hospitality," he said, his voice quieter now. "I'll be sure to inform the Shogun of my findings."
The moment the words left his mouth, Ujiyuki froze.
That expression—serious, focused, stripped of all mischief—was rare on Shigekatsu's face. Ujiyuki had seen it only a handful of times in his life, and every time, it carried consequences.
Time passed swiftly.
Before long, Satō and Sentarō arrived at the Fourth Division barracks. The towering structure loomed before them, its walls solid and imposing. The moment Sentarō laid eyes on it, his face lit up with unrestrained excitement—just like the first time he had seen it.
"ALRIGHT!!" Sentarō shouted, throwing his fists into the air. "I'M FINALLY HERE! And this time—as a full-fledged samurai!!"
"Of course you're the one shouting," a familiar voice remarked dryly.
"Huh?"
Sentarō turned sharply.
Standing a short distance away was a young woman with flowing blonde hair, dressed in a crisp samurai uniform. Draped over her shoulders was a yellow-and-white polka-dotted haori that fluttered lightly in the breeze.
"Hey, Sentarō," she said with a warm, confident smile.
"H-Huh?! Reiko?!" Sentarō yelled, eyes wide in disbelief. "Is that really you?!"
"The one and only," Reiko replied, her grin widening.
The lingering sadness from leaving Ujiyuki and Shigekatsu melted away, replaced by genuine joy. Seeing a familiar face eased the weight in Sentarō's chest.
"It's so great to see you," he said honestly.
"You too," Reiko replied without hesitation.
"You must be Reiko Kobayashi," Satō said, stepping forward with a polite bow.
Reiko blinked in surprise. "Wait—how do you know my full name?"
Sentarō froze. "Hold on… you knew my name too," he said slowly. "Back at my house."
"Wait," Satō said, brows knitting together. "You two didn't know?"
"Know what?" Sentarō and Reiko asked at the same time.
Satō let out a quiet sigh. "Then follow me."
They walked deeper into the Fourth Division barracks, passing through the wide courtyard. That was when it truly dawned on them.
Samurai filled the area—training, standing guard, conversing in hushed tones. And every single one of them was staring.
Whispers spread rapidly.
"Is that them…?"
"I heard they took him down."
"Those are the survivors?"
"The Night of Blood…"
The murmurs grew louder as more samurai took notice, passing the information along like wildfire.
"So those two are part of the only four survivors?" one man asked quietly.
Satō turned back to face them. "The truth is, both of you are famous," he said plainly. "You survived what people now call The Night of Blood."
Sentarō opened his mouth to speak—but a furious shout tore through the courtyard.
"HUH?! IF YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING TO SAY, SAY IT TO MY FACE, YOU DAMN WEAKLING!!"
Everyone turned.
At the center of the courtyard stood Tadatoshi, dressed in his black kosode and hakama, his flashy white haori adorned with vivid patterns of purple, blue, red, orange, and pink. He held another samurai by the collar, lifting him off the ground with one hand.
"H-Hey! W-What do you think you're doing?!" the man stammered in terror.
"It's Tadatoshi," Reiko muttered under her breath.
"Yeah," Sentarō replied, eyes narrowing. "Looks like he doesn't like the rumors."
In a burst of speed, Sentarō rushed forward and grabbed Tadatoshi's forearm firmly.
"Huh?"
Tadatoshi looked up—and memories flooded his mind.
The exams. Abe. The clash between steel and blood.
They had survived… but he had not delivered the final blow.
"Who do you think you are?" Tadatoshi snarled, tightening his grip on the trembling samurai.
"Tadatoshi," Sentarō said calmly, his voice steady yet firm. "You need to calm down."
That only fueled the fire.
With a sudden movement, Tadatoshi threw a punch. Sentarō blocked it—but the sheer force sent him flying backward, his feet scraping harshly against the ground before he managed to stop himself.
Gasps echoed through the courtyard.
Tadatoshi tossed the samurai aside, letting him crash to the ground before stepping forward. Sentarō straightened, meeting him head-on.
The surrounding samurai instinctively formed a circle, recognizing that neither of them was ordinary.
They advanced toward each other in silence.
No words were exchanged. None were needed.
Hands hovered near sword hilts.
Steel was about to sing—
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"
The roar shook the courtyard.
Every samurai snapped to attention instantly, standing in perfect alignment before the main building. Only Sentarō, Reiko, and Tadatoshi remained unmoving.
"SIR!" a lone samurai shouted, stepping forward. "TWO NEWLY NAMED ASHIGARU WERE ABOUT TO ENGAGE IN COMBAT, SIR!!"
A massive figure emerged.
Tall. Broad. Muscular.
Wild orange hair framed his face as he laughed loudly, dressed in the official police uniform with a pentagonal badge tied to his arm and an orange-and-black haori flowing behind him.
"Ashigaru, huh?" he boomed.
"Looks like this year's batch has THE FIRE!! HAHAHAHAHA!"
Sentarō, Tadatoshi, and Reiko stared.
They didn't know who he was.
But one thing was certain—
He was not like anyone they had ever met.