Uzui's throat bobbed as if she were gulping something down.
Could it be...?
Is she actually drinking the blood dripping from my lips?
I tried to shove Uzui away immediately, but she clung to me relentlessly, refusing to let go.
I’d never seen her eat before, but from what I knew, Uzui hadn’t turned into a demon by consuming demon flesh the way Minase had.
There were no records of an ordinary human becoming a demon simply by ingesting demon blood—but even so, what good could possibly come from a human drinking it?
What on earth are you thinking, Uzui?
When the kiss finally ended, Uzui released my lips. Her eyes flickered with a lascivious delight as she licked the remaining blood from her mouth.
“Young master’s blood… it really is delicious.”
A chill ran down my spine before I even realized it.
At that moment, Uzui closed her eyes, and her body began to change.
I peered into her form with my [Mental Realm] vision.
The [Mental Realm] revealed the truth to me.
Uzui had forsaken her humanity.
Her bones, her muscles, her blood—every tissue in her body was being reconstructed and transformed.
A human body was shifting into the form of a demon.
About fifteen minutes later, the violent convulsions subsided, and Uzui opened her eyes.
What in the world...?
While I was still reeling, a voice burst forth from within me.
“…Could it be that she drank your blood?”
It was the voice of [Kibutsuji Muzan], who had been begging for the connection to be severed before I spoke with [Tamayo].
I had plenty to say to him, but that wasn’t the priority.
Why had Uzui become a demon?
I am not Muzan.
My blood shouldn’t possess the power to turn someone into a demon.
So why had she changed?
Muzan sighed before replying.
“I don’t know either.”
What?
“I said I don’t know.”
That bastard… If you don’t know, who does?
Muzan continued to complain, repeating that he had no idea.
Then Kokushibo spoke up.
He, too, sounded surprised by the outcome.
“My theory… is that she consumed Muzan’s heart.”
What? Because she ate Muzan’s heart?
“I suspect that is the cause. Otherwise, it makes no sense. By consuming the original heart, it seems she aligned herself with its nature.”
This is troublesome.
That means I could potentially create demons as well.
“Even so, the original blood is a potent poison. Even in a diluted state, it will not be without toxicity.”
“For someone of frail constitution… it would be best not to use it.”
I have no intention of spawning demons recklessly, either.
What worried me more was Uzui’s current state.
The demons I’ve faced—aside from [Tamayo]—were brutal and unhesitating in their cannibalism.
[Muzan] claimed he created demons not to indulge in barbarity, but to find those who could overcome the sun; thus, not every human had been a monster in spirit before their transformation.
Yet, once one becomes a demon, the likelihood of moral ruin is high.
I didn’t undergo any change in personality when I became a demon, but Uzui…
“How do you feel…?”
I asked her gently.
Uzui examined her own body before answering.
“My strength has increased splendidly, but I don’t feel as though much else has changed.”
Her tone was the same as ever.
It seemed her personality remained intact.
“That’s a relief…”
I sighed with genuine relief.
Then I looked her squarely in the eyes.
“Why did you do it?”
Uzui, if you were still in your right mind, you wouldn’t have dared drink my blood blindly.
You must have anticipated this outcome.
So why?
She looked unchanged outwardly, but she was now undeniably a demon.
No longer could she walk under the sun or eat human food; she was destined to live an eternal life as a cursed being.
“It was half a gamble,” she said quietly.
“That’s not the question…!”
Her nonchalant tone made my voice rise before I even noticed.
Why did you become a demon for my sake?
Even with superhuman strength and eternal life, you can no longer coexist with humanity or walk in the sunlight.
So why did you choose this fate?
Because I had become aware of Uzui’s heart—because of that, I resented the thought that she, too, must bear this burden.
I could have handled this cursed existence alone.
“Your life will be far from glorious.”
“I know.”
“Then why…”
“Because I am your kagemusha.”
The faint smile she gave as she met my gaze said it all.
Kagemusha.
I stared at her in silence.
Kagemusha.
And then—
“Isn’t that over?”
“It isn’t over yet.”
Uzui’s brazen expression was enough to shame even the bravest of men.
It was absurd.
At her childlike stubbornness, the tension in my face melted away.
Kagemusha… kagemusha.
Yes, that’s what you were.
You have always been my ninja attendant.
You were the first teacher who taught me how to fight.
Seventeen years we spent together as family and comrades.
Yes, you were the kagemusha of my life.
What word could be more fitting?
All right, do as you wish.
“You are a strange one. What is it about me that you care for so much?”
“Because I caught your affliction, young master. You must take responsibility.”
After finishing our conversation, we returned to [Amano Ruka] and [Tamayo].
They both seemed relieved, as if they had concluded their own discussion.
I wasn’t sure what they had talked about, but I didn’t need to ask.
How curious.
I had expected Amano to be cold toward Tamayo; after all, she was once a demon.
As a Hashira, I thought Amano would harbor hostility, yet he treated Tamayo as if she were just another person.
Perhaps their conversation had been a sort of declaration of non-hostility.
In any case, I wondered what Amano thought now that Uzui had also become a demon.
My head ached.
But the headache was brief.
“You’ve gone demon first, I see.”
Huh?
Amano spoke as if he were already in the know.
I couldn’t hide my surprise at his reaction.
So you already knew?
What does that mean?
And why 'first'?
Amano, please don’t say such ominous things; I feel like my brain might short-circuit.
As if reading my thoughts, Amano approached with a teasing smile.
I couldn’t move under his gaze—something in his expression seemed to draw everything in.
Tamayo looked uneasy beside me, and Uzui simply smiled as if she had predicted this.
Amano held out his hand and said:
“Now, I must have some of that blood, too.”
Damn.
No, I am not public property.
Time continued to flow.
And at a certain hour, the ceaseless turning gears finally halted.
On that day, unlike any before, the moon rose red in the sky.
It was the night of a crimson [Full Moon].
Under that full moon, an elderly couple sat on the veranda, gazing at the large scarlet orb.
To some, the clock stopping forever meant a present that never moved.
To others, it became a distant past that rushed by, impossible to grasp.
Time is both cruel and fearsome.
The red hair once praised as the “Child of Innovation” had long since turned white.
Wrinkles marked his face, and the weight of years bent his shoulders.
The [Sun God], once lauded as the strongest of all, had become an old man.
Yet the birthmark that signified his short life remained clear upon his brow.
Every bearer of those marks had never lived past twenty-five—except this old man.
Then another figure appeared before them.
This man sat on the veranda beside the elder, yet he was his complete contrast.
While the elder was ravaged by time, this man stood unchanged, as if time had stopped for him.
Despite bearing the same mark, he had not suffered a short life; his prime remained undiminished.
Upon seeing him, the old man smiled, bowing respectfully.
“You have come, elder brother.”
“Indeed.”
The younger man returned the greeting with a smile.
In the elder brother’s eyes, there was no contempt or questioning as he looked upon his aged younger brother.
Only a gentle smile.
“You have grown old, Yoriichi.”
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