“Oh, right. Do you drink?”

“I don’t really… Wait, do you drink regularly?”

“No, not at all when I’m alone. That’s why the stuff my friends bring over never gets finished.”

Here, look—

Chikano pulled out an absurdly massive bottle from behind a shelf, and Ziel recoiled in shock.

“Whoa, that’s huge.”

A spring night.

Through the slightly open shoji door, the stars, the sounds of insects, and a slightly chilly breeze flowed in.

In Chikano’s room, Ziel was sitting heavily on the floor.

“So, what do you think? If you’re drinking, I figured we could open it together.”

“Nah, I’ll pass… But damn, that looks like the good stuff.”

“It is. The friend who gave it to me runs a liquor store… Oh wait, you’ve met them before. Remember? That time when we were eating outside and they barged in, crying their eyes out?”

“…Oh.”

“And then they sat next to you, and you were totally flustered…”

“Did you really have to bring that up?”

With a mischievous grin, Chikano put the bottle back in its place.

Then, with a casual “Well, anyway,” she sat down across from Ziel, on the other side of the low table.

“So, what’s up?”

“…First off, thanks for earlier. The snake thing.”

“Wait, did you actually come here to bow your head in gratitude?”

“As if.”

Ziel scoffed, and Chikano chuckled.

“It’s fine. I was able to handle it even with a surprise attack.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“If anything, I’m kind of annoyed that I didn’t take it down in one shot… I guess my attacks lose power when there’s more distance.”

Chikano mimed drawing a bow, squinting one eye as she did.

Ziel gave her an exasperated look. “That’s normal for everyone.”

“So, you’re on lookout duty at the watchtower?”

“Yep. On rainy days, visibility gets bad, so I can’t see all the way to the bamboo forest, though. Oh, do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want yokan or senbei?” she asked, rummaging through the shelves with her back turned.

“Both.”

“Greedy, aren’t you?”

Chikano handed over the yokan and senbei, and as they ate, the conversation continued.

“If it gets tough, I can help out with the town patrol.”

“Hm. Thanks, but for now, it’s fine. If you joined, it’d be overkill.”

“So, it’s not that bad?”

Chikano crunched into a senbei.

“I wouldn’t say we can let our guard down, but overall, the threats are pretty minor. Seems like that’s the trend right now.”

“Saminato said something similar earlier.”

“Ugh, there you go again, calling someone’s father by his first name.”

“Don’t start. I’m working through it.”

“Just because you’re struggling with it doesn’t mean it’s okay,” she shot back sharply.

“Anyway, it’s true. That’s why the senior members, like my mom and the instructor-level people, are being sent out on assignments, leaving us with less backup… But honestly, none of the enemies are really at a level that would help improve your swordsmanship. You’d be better off training with me every now and then.”

“Was that your plan all along?”

“More or less,” Ziel admitted with a nod.

“I had my third ‘Experience’ the other day…”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. So I’ve been wondering how I should get stronger moving forward. If you’re up for sparring, that’d help me out a lot.”

“Huh…” Chikano furrowed her brows.

“Can you stand up and take your stance for a second?”

She smoothly unsheathed the sword at her side and rose to her feet.

Ziel understood what she wanted to do.

He responded with a simple “Yeah,” drawing his own sword and standing up.

They brought the tips of their weapons together, just barely touching.

Three silent seconds passed.

Then—

“…Hah. I don’t get it.”

Chikano was the first to lower her sword.

She sheathed it, then flopped back onto her cushion.

“Ugh, this is so frustrating… We were evenly matched not too long ago. What the hell happened?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ziel retorted, sheathing his own sword before sitting back down.

“It makes no sense for you to be this strong without a single ‘Experience.’ If we actually fought, you could still win, depending on how it played out.”

“I’d love to say it’s because I’ve been training every day, but I know your sword habits. Even so, I’d maybe land one hit out of ten at best. My dad could probably manage three.”

“Not gonna lie, I don’t hate hearing that,” Ziel said with a smirk.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Chikano shot back, reaching for another senbei—then pausing mid-motion.

“…Oh. So that’s why you took on a disciple.”

“Huh?”

“You can’t find sparring partners at your level anymore, so you’re approaching it from another angle.”

She casually snapped the senbei in half.

“That’s actually pretty common. A lot of people get stronger by taking on disciples. It forces you to refine your techniques, and thinking about strategy from a disciple’s perspective lets you gain indirect experience against stronger opponents. It’s a lot better than just crushing weaker ones and developing bad habits. Smart move.”

“…Ah.”

“What’s with that pause?”

“No reason.”

Ziel stuffed two pieces of yokan into his mouth.

“Anyway, changing the subject.”

“Wow, that was blatant.”

“Fine, not changing the subject. What do you think of my disciple?”

“Oh, she seem fine to me.”

Chikano’s response was casual.

“She is reasonable and seem like a good person. That’s like, 80% of what matters. If her aptitude is really low, you might struggle with the last 20%, but… What kind of person is she, anyway?”

Ziel launched into a detailed explanation, only for Chikano to laugh partway through.

“Wow, you talk a lot.”

“She’ve got bits of foundational knowledge but need structure. I’m thinking of giving them an unsharpened sword soon and throwing them into more real fights…”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. She was competent enough to support an S-rank party, right? You should be able to teach her everything she need in a year. You took four to master it all yourself.”

“Right.”

Ziel crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and nodded deeply. Again and again.

“So?” Chikano prompted. “What’s the real question?”

“…What do you think a master-disciple relationship is supposed to be?”

“………………”

The feeling of “Ugh, what a pain.”

Chikano was expressing it in a way that anyone could tell just by looking.

“Ugh, what a pain…”

She even said it out loud.

“No, wait, just hear me out.”

But unfazed by her reaction, Ziel pressed on.

He knew. The martial artist from the East before him—this was an utterly outrageous person.

From their first meeting, she had come at him with the attitude of a thug—or rather, exactly like one—picking a fight in grand fashion. She didn’t know when to quit, pushing their endurance contest until she was rolling her eyes back in exhaustion. And even after they had both passed out, she didn’t take that as the end of the fight. The moment she regained consciousness, she would attack him in his sleep.

For a while, every time they saw each other, it was a cycle of pummeling each other black and blue, crushing limbs with sickening cracks. Eventually, he found himself marveling, “How does someone with this kind of nerve manage to live in human society with a straight face, claiming ‘I’m a normal person’?”

And yet.

Despite everything—despite all those experiences (which, truly, were beyond comprehension)—he also knew that, somehow, she was a perfectly decent human being. She had common sense, was surprisingly caring, and had plenty of friends… She was that kind of person.

That was why he was thinking this now:

She was the perfect person to talk to about relationship problems.

“Listen, the thought process that led me to this question is actually pretty complex—”

“Sure. Well, I’m going to the kitchen to get some tea, so go ahead and talk while I’m gone.”

“That just means I’ll be talking to myself.”

“Yep.”

“Don’t ‘yep’ me,” Ziel protested.

And just as he was about to launch into a grand dissertation—

“Sorry, but I’m suddenly feeling completely exhausted,” Chikano interrupted.

Taking the hint, he condensed his explanation as much as he could.

“—Traveling with someone your own age, someone you’re supposed to be supporting each other with, while still maintaining a hierarchical relationship… doesn’t that feel kind of awkward?”

“Maybe try realizing that before setting out on the journey.”

That was an entirely fair point.

Chikano let out a deep, deep sigh.

“So, what, you came all the way here because of that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I mean… sure, it’s better to think about this stuff than to not think about it. But, uh, has it actually been a problem yet?”

“Not at all… which is why it’s scary.”

He was worried that, somewhere out of sight, he was making his companion hold back.

“Ahh, got it,” Chikano nodded.

“Yeah… it’s tricky. But, you know, forcing them into a dynamic like ‘Hey, useless human! Need me to tighten your screws for you?’ just because of how things started—that’s its own kind of pressure.”

“…There’s a lot I want to say about that, but… yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“Ehh…”

Chikano placed her hands behind her, pressing against the tatami, eyes drifting toward the ceiling beams.

“…This is tough. Honestly, I’d say you should ask my uncle, but he’s pretty busy right now. Are you planning to use our dojo for training?”

“If possible. Can I?”

“Totally. A lot of people are away on assignments, so there’s plenty of space.”

“That helps.” Ziel gave a small nod of gratitude.

“No problem,” Chikano replied, before adding,

“Well, if things start looking bad, I’ll step in. That should be fine for now, right?”

“Yeah, thanks. I feel like I’m just relying on you for everything.”

“Yeah, yeah… But honestly, I think you’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re worried about yourself—you’re worried about the other person, right?”

“Right.”

Klaha isn’t much older than us, either. She’s a strong-willed person. Things will work out.”

“Yeah? I do get the impression she’s mentally tough…”

“No, not that. Before that.”

“…You mean because she feels indebted, she might overcompensate?”

“No, no.” Chikano waved her hands.

“Not that. I mean—”

She paused for effect before continuing.

“Think about it. She’s signing up as your disciple knowing full well about your whole curse situation. That’s a serious level of commitment. If she’s made up her mind that much, and you’re not acting in a way that pushes her away, then I think things will be fine.”

“……”

“Someone with that much resolve isn’t just going to suddenly lose her way and plummet into ruin.”

Ziel heard her words.

He placed a hand over his mouth, his gaze falling onto the surface of the table.

He stayed like that for a long moment.

Still, utterly still.

A silence so profound that you could almost hear a grain of sand falling into the moonlit sea and echoing all the way to the earth.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Hey,”

he said.

“Do you think I should have explained the curse in more detail from the start?”

Another silence.

They stared at each other.

So deeply that their reflections in each other’s eyes were perfectly clear.

Three seconds.

The first to move was, again, Chikano.

Her cheek twitched. She slowly averted her gaze.

And then she said—

“I know nothing.”

“No, wait, wait, wait, wait.”

Ziel leaned forward, trying to continue.

Meanwhile, Chikano, with flawless elegance, rose to her feet as if to escape.

“Let’s just go to bed. I’ll show you to your room…”

“I appreciate that, but hold on a second.”

“Nope. Idiot. Get lost forever.”

And with that, she slipped out of the room.

Realizing that if he didn’t follow, he’d be left behind, Ziel hurriedly got up and trailed after her.

“Is it really that bad? I just didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by bringing it up.”

“Nope. No more talking about that. Too scary. Let’s talk about tomorrow’s dinner instead. Oh! Congratulations on resealing the Ruin King! I heard it was rough. I’ll treat you to whatever you want for dinner tomorrow. What’ll it be?”

“I mean, dinner sounds great, but I’d really like to finish this conversation.”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

Chikano ran.

Ziel chased after her.

—And so, their first night in town passed.

Back when they could still laugh.

On a spring night.