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Chapter 1 – Bound Together (cont.)
After school, the brothers invited Kuroh along with them to fish down by the river, but Kuroh declined, heading back home. He warned them sternly to be careful before returning home–only to find Ichigen gone, with a letter left for him on the little table in the living room.
/I’ll be gone for about two days. Sorry–but please take care of your own meals for the time being. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you at your age, but take care around the flame should you use the stove./
Ichigen had occasionally disappeared without notice like this in the past. Most times he never explained his reasoning, leaving Kuroh to a.s.sume he was off on some King-related business. He never delved too deeply as to why, but it always left Kuroh wis.h.i.+ng he could grow up faster, in order to more quickly be of aid to Ichigen on these errands.
“I see…” He was a bit disappointed. He’d felt that he could phrase his questions with more finesse now, given the daif.u.ku trio’s help. He’d been a.s.sured he was the one best equipped to keeping up with the genius Miwa Ichigen–and those words instilled within him great confidence. “Guess I didn’t need to hurry home after all…”
He was entertaining the thought of heading out to join the brothers in their fis.h.i.+ng excursion, a child-like dilemma indeed, when he heard a voice from the garden, “Kuroh-chan, are you in there?”
He quickly stood and hurried over to the gla.s.s door, yanking it open just in time to find a gentle-faced old woman entering via the kitchen door. “Ah, Watanabe-san. Please come inside.” He ducked a nod; this was their next-door neighbor. She’d lost her husband two years before and was now spending restful days with her second son and his wife. She was a very wise and kind woman, and from the moment Kuroh had been taken in by Ichigen, she’d taken a s.h.i.+ne to him, helping to care for him. “One man alone can’t possibly be expected to care properly for a child, right? Plus with all my grandchildren living on their own now, I’m actually enjoying looking after Kuroh-chan.” She would often make treats for Kuroh and even knit him a m.u.f.fler. To Kuroh, she was a peerless savior.
Given Kuroh’s personality, he often struck a tone of overly exaggerated politeness with his elders, deeming them more than worthy of respect, and here as well he spoke reverently to the old woman, like some character from a period play, “My deepest apologies for your traveling so far to our humble abode, but Miwa is unavailable at the moment, I’m afraid.”
“Oh yes, I know. He left word with me when he left, asking me to look in on you. So–I’ve brought some dinner–would you like some?”
“Oh my! I didn’t realize!” He flashed a toothy grin at her. “Thank you ever so much, Watanabe-san! I’m ever in your debt.” Such phrasing and vocabulary were rather unexpected from the mouth of an elementary school student.
“You’re always such a proper young man, Kuroh-chan.” Her words held just the tiniest hint of teasing, but it flew over Kuroh’s head, and he merely blushed at the compliment–perhaps the last remaining evidence of his being still a child.
He took the plastic-wrapped contained from the old woman and let out a shout of delight. “Ah!! You made an das.h.i.+maki omelet!” His voice was filled with untainted elation. “Thank you so much! I love your omelets, Watanabe-san!”
“Do you, now?” Her eyes crinkled with a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Yes, ma’am! It has a very strong flavor–but at the same time, it’s very refres.h.i.+ng and simple! I hope that I can make das.h.i.+maki omelets like yours some day!”
Watanabe-san stood in thought for a moment. “Kuroh-chan…”
“Yes?”
“Would you like me to teach you how to make that omelet?”
Kuroh froze at the offer, managing to get out after a moment, “Eh?”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, puzzled.
“Oh, yes, just…” He wrestled with himself for a moment. “…I’m sorry,” he apologized, ducking his head in honest penitence. “I’m honored, truly, but… It’s just, you see…”
Watanabe-san cut him off with some perplexity. “No no, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but…why not?”
“Ah–yes, ma’am, see…” he scrambled to explain himself. He would hate to be thought some crude barbarian turning down her kind offer for no reason whatsoever. “Well, I’m learning a lot of things from Ichigen-sama right now, you know?”
“Indeed you are,” she grinned. “Working hard every day.”
Kuroh flushed. “Thank you very much. But–I’m exceedingly uncoordinated, and just…I have to take things very slowly, and I think…that it’s best I not try and learn too many things from different people.”
Watanabe-san c.o.c.ked her head to the side slowly. “…And why is that?”
“Well–if I did, I feel that my efforts would thereby become half-hearted and incomplete. So–I think I ought to learn from Ichigen-sama first–be it cooking or anything else–and then after mastering the activity under his tutelage, move on to receiving lessons from others.”
The woman’s eyes widened just a bit, and she responded in wonderment, “…You really are a serious young man, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Not at all. There’s no need to fret over it. I understand your way of thinking quite well.” She then added with a chuckle, “But goodness, the master and his pupil certainly are of different stock. Miwa-san gladly took me up on my offer for lessons without protest.”
“………” Kuroh allowed himself a moment to think, then questioned, “You mean…lessons on how to make adas.h.i.+maki omelet…?”
“Oh no,” she responded easily, “I mean cooking lessons in general.”
“Eh?” Kuroh stiffened. “General cooking lessons?”
The woman seemed surprised at his own shock. “Oh? He never told you? Miwa-san couldn’t do anything when he moved here! But there was little he could do to help that on his own–so I taught him all sorts of things.”
“!!” While a bit of an overstatement, this was something akin to the sky falling down upon Kuroh’s head. ‘Ichigen-sama? That genius…only just became as capable as he is now fairly recently?’
“Though of course, being who he is, it didn’t take him long to surpa.s.s me.” Her eyes crinkled in nostalgic mirth. “But in the beginning, he’d try drowning the vegetables in oil trying to make stir fry, or toss out the das.h.i.+ broth thinking it was part of the burnable garbage–you wouldn’t believe how many times I had to get on to him.”
Kuroh released a moan, “That’s just…!” but after giving it a bit of thought, he concluded that perhaps it really wasn’t so strange. After all, Ichigen had originally been heir to a fencing dojo and an accomplished businessman. He could very easily have simply had no time to learn culinary arts in the first half of his life. ‘But to think that he only learned upon arriving here…’
He always seemed to enjoy cooking so much–and yet only a few years prior he hadn’t even been able to properly sauté vegetables…
So…there were things that Ichigen couldn’t do, huh… It was a strange sensation–something of a shock, but at the same time, a revelation that filled him with some fresh pa.s.sion. “I see… So Ichigen-sama learned his skills from someone else…”
The old woman laughed wryly. “Naturally Miwa-san wasn’t born the way you see him now, you know. He was a bouncing little baby when he came from his mother’s womb, and he was just as much a child as you are at one point as well.”
“Be that as it may…”
“And he received all his knowledge at the hand of teachers and grew up under the censure and praise of adults around him. It’s only natural, right?”
‘So he’s just like me…’ Kuroh reflected silently.
“Plus–I’m sure he’s mentioned to you that he learned his skills with the sword from his grandfather. Am I wrong?”
“…No, you’re not.” He nodded his head deeply. He’d known that much at least for a long time. And yet…he’d never really considered it all that thoroughly.
Watanabe-san’s gaze softened. “Kuroh-chan–that’s how people become bonded to one another. Miwa-san’s grandfather taught him swordsmans.h.i.+p, and now, he’s teaching you.”
“……”
“And so now–it’s not merely Miwa-san who lives within you, but the thoughts and feelings of his grandfather as well have now reached you through the natural flow of things.”
“…Within me?”
“Exactly. So–even if you choose to be instructed in cooking by Miwa-san alone, my lessons through him will automatically reach you as well.” She then added a bit teasingly, “Which would, I suppose, make you my student as well.”
“I…see…” He took a deep breath. “I’d be your…”
“And just so you know–that would make me very happy. I’ll pa.s.s on some day, but through my culinary skills, I’ll still be connected to a youngster like you. And then, perhaps some day you’ll pa.s.s your skills on to someone even younger–be it lessons or swordsmans.h.i.+p, whatever you choose. This way of linking the thoughts and feelings of each generation to the next, on and on, in a never-ending relay…” She paused, slowly adding, “…Perhaps this is what we mean by the word ‘bond’.”
“………” Kuroh’s eyes shone, and he lifted his head, opening his mouth to speak, “Watanabe-san, I–”
“Is Miwa-sensei in?” Kuroh’s expression changed as a man dashed into the garden–it was the son that Watanabe-san lived with.
“What’s the matter? Miwa-san’s out right now.” Her brows furrowed in irritation at his frantic state, but the man didn’t seem to notice his mother’s reaction.
“Craaaap, at a time like this? Oh geez, this is bad…”
He covered his face, head tilted up to the sky, and his mother rounded on him, thoroughly put out by now, “Just what is going on here?”
At this, the man cast Kuroh a worried glance before quickly relating the state of affairs: “It’s the daif.u.ku–I mean, the Yamamoto family’s youngest. He’s disappeared!”
Kuroh’s and Watanabe’s faces both went pale.
As Seita and Kouta related it, while the trio had been out fis.h.i.+ng, a pure white deer had appeared before them, and they’d given chase without thought. While they’d grown quite accustomed to life in the village, nothing could take away the fact that they’d originally grown up in a big city, and so given the rarity of the creature they’d just spotted, they ignored warnings not to go into the mountains alone and headed in that direction.
Both Seita and Kouta were well aware that they were breaking rules that had been drilled into their heads by their elders, though, and after losing sight of the deer, they retreated to their original position. Distance-wise, they likely hadn’t traveled more than 100 meters past the treeline. But upon returning back to the beach–it was there that they realized the youngest, Heita, had somehow disappeared.
Hearing the tale related after-the-fact, Kuroh’s stomach clenched in pain. The two brothers losing sight of their younger brother…must have felt no small amount of fear. They’d apparently wrestled with their options her–go back into the mountains immediately and try to find Heita, or run for help?
Their ultimate decision was one which, from an objective perspective, they ought to have been applauded for making–as despite knowing full well they would be punished for what they’d done, they made a break for the nearest house they could find. It was an action taken upon thorough consideration in order to avoid either of the remaining brothers being stranded as well–and it proved an apt decision, as in no time at all, news of what had happened had made its way throughout the village.
By the time Kuroh reached the boys’ home, Seita and Kouta were clinging to their mother, bawling. She clutched them close while their father, stern-faced, delivered instructions on the search-and-rescue effort to the young men of the village who’d gathered.
The sun was already setting.
Armed with flashlights and pine torches, they elected the member most familiar with the mountains as the leader and set off in groups of four. All groups were distributed GPS transceivers and instructed to remain in contact at all times, with the Yamamoto home designated home base.
Some of the groups used tracking dogs in their efforts, and the groups were distributed haphazardly around the mountain. From time to time, one could catch the sound of someone calling Heita’s name in a loud voice.
The women took to wandering about the village, just in case Heita happened to return. Given his age, there was always the chance he was simply hiding somewhere nearby. Akagi-sensei as well could be spotted walking to and fro, searching for her student with worry etched on her features. Still others were preparing warm meals for the men wandering the mountains in the dark, and others tried to comfort the boys’ mother.
Watanabe-san rea.s.sured her, “He’ll be just fine. Children tend to just pop right up for you to find! Things like this happen every few years–but winter’s past, so I’m sure he’ll be all right.”
By this point…Kuroh had already made his choice: he would set off to save Heita on his own.
He was a child, getting ready to head into the dangerous mountains all alone, well after the sun had set–an action that would, under any other circ.u.mstances, be absolutely unforgivable. However, Kuroh…had a strange conviction rea.s.suring him. He knew…that he would be able to save Heita.
‘If I go, then I’m sure…’
If any other other members of the search teams found out about this–he knew he’d be in for a good scolding, and he was well aware of the risk he was undertaking. This was why he consulted his internal moral code. ‘What would Ichigen-sama do…?’
If Miwa Ichigen were here, there’d be no need for Kuroh to leave at all. He likely would’ve found himself waiting patiently at home with the other children.
But right now, his revered master was nowhere to be seen.
‘Then…’ He set off for the mountains. ‘I’m going. I have to. I’ll save Heita!’
Heita, who’d readched out and grasped his hand tightly with, “Kuroh-chan!”
Heita, who looked up to Kuroh from the bottom of his heart.
Heita, who was adored by all the villagers.
He’d a.s.sured Kuroh that they were friends.
‘Then…’
The Miwa Ichigen inside his mind offered a wry smile and nodded–Get going, then, Kuro.
This was not wrong–it was dangerous, to be sure, but not wrong. Heita was in trouble–right now, and a pressing sense of foreboding settled over Kuroh, frightening him to the core.
‘Hurry! Hurry! HURRY!’
Yatogami Kuroh was like unto a lone wolf, streaking out into the night. Relying on what little moonlight there was, he darted through the trees, leaping over boulders as he raced up the slow.
‘Just hang in there, Heita!’
To be continued…
After school, the brothers invited Kuroh along with them to fish down by the river, but Kuroh declined, heading back home. He warned them sternly to be careful before returning home–only to find Ichigen gone, with a letter left for him on the little table in the living room.
/I’ll be gone for about two days. Sorry–but please take care of your own meals for the time being. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you at your age, but take care around the flame should you use the stove./
Ichigen had occasionally disappeared without notice like this in the past. Most times he never explained his reasoning, leaving Kuroh to a.s.sume he was off on some King-related business. He never delved too deeply as to why, but it always left Kuroh wis.h.i.+ng he could grow up faster, in order to more quickly be of aid to Ichigen on these errands.
“I see…” He was a bit disappointed. He’d felt that he could phrase his questions with more finesse now, given the daif.u.ku trio’s help. He’d been a.s.sured he was the one best equipped to keeping up with the genius Miwa Ichigen–and those words instilled within him great confidence. “Guess I didn’t need to hurry home after all…”
He was entertaining the thought of heading out to join the brothers in their fis.h.i.+ng excursion, a child-like dilemma indeed, when he heard a voice from the garden, “Kuroh-chan, are you in there?”
He quickly stood and hurried over to the gla.s.s door, yanking it open just in time to find a gentle-faced old woman entering via the kitchen door. “Ah, Watanabe-san. Please come inside.” He ducked a nod; this was their next-door neighbor. She’d lost her husband two years before and was now spending restful days with her second son and his wife. She was a very wise and kind woman, and from the moment Kuroh had been taken in by Ichigen, she’d taken a s.h.i.+ne to him, helping to care for him. “One man alone can’t possibly be expected to care properly for a child, right? Plus with all my grandchildren living on their own now, I’m actually enjoying looking after Kuroh-chan.” She would often make treats for Kuroh and even knit him a m.u.f.fler. To Kuroh, she was a peerless savior.
Given Kuroh’s personality, he often struck a tone of overly exaggerated politeness with his elders, deeming them more than worthy of respect, and here as well he spoke reverently to the old woman, like some character from a period play, “My deepest apologies for your traveling so far to our humble abode, but Miwa is unavailable at the moment, I’m afraid.”
“Oh yes, I know. He left word with me when he left, asking me to look in on you. So–I’ve brought some dinner–would you like some?”
“Oh my! I didn’t realize!” He flashed a toothy grin at her. “Thank you ever so much, Watanabe-san! I’m ever in your debt.” Such phrasing and vocabulary were rather unexpected from the mouth of an elementary school student.
“You’re always such a proper young man, Kuroh-chan.” Her words held just the tiniest hint of teasing, but it flew over Kuroh’s head, and he merely blushed at the compliment–perhaps the last remaining evidence of his being still a child.
He took the plastic-wrapped contained from the old woman and let out a shout of delight. “Ah!! You made an das.h.i.+maki omelet!” His voice was filled with untainted elation. “Thank you so much! I love your omelets, Watanabe-san!”
“Do you, now?” Her eyes crinkled with a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Yes, ma’am! It has a very strong flavor–but at the same time, it’s very refres.h.i.+ng and simple! I hope that I can make das.h.i.+maki omelets like yours some day!”
Watanabe-san stood in thought for a moment. “Kuroh-chan…”
“Yes?”
“Would you like me to teach you how to make that omelet?”
Kuroh froze at the offer, managing to get out after a moment, “Eh?”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, puzzled.
“Oh, yes, just…” He wrestled with himself for a moment. “…I’m sorry,” he apologized, ducking his head in honest penitence. “I’m honored, truly, but… It’s just, you see…”
Watanabe-san cut him off with some perplexity. “No no, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but…why not?”
“Ah–yes, ma’am, see…” he scrambled to explain himself. He would hate to be thought some crude barbarian turning down her kind offer for no reason whatsoever. “Well, I’m learning a lot of things from Ichigen-sama right now, you know?”
“Indeed you are,” she grinned. “Working hard every day.”
Kuroh flushed. “Thank you very much. But–I’m exceedingly uncoordinated, and just…I have to take things very slowly, and I think…that it’s best I not try and learn too many things from different people.”
Watanabe-san c.o.c.ked her head to the side slowly. “…And why is that?”
“Well–if I did, I feel that my efforts would thereby become half-hearted and incomplete. So–I think I ought to learn from Ichigen-sama first–be it cooking or anything else–and then after mastering the activity under his tutelage, move on to receiving lessons from others.”
The woman’s eyes widened just a bit, and she responded in wonderment, “…You really are a serious young man, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Not at all. There’s no need to fret over it. I understand your way of thinking quite well.” She then added with a chuckle, “But goodness, the master and his pupil certainly are of different stock. Miwa-san gladly took me up on my offer for lessons without protest.”
“………” Kuroh allowed himself a moment to think, then questioned, “You mean…lessons on how to make adas.h.i.+maki omelet…?”
“Oh no,” she responded easily, “I mean cooking lessons in general.”
“Eh?” Kuroh stiffened. “General cooking lessons?”
The woman seemed surprised at his own shock. “Oh? He never told you? Miwa-san couldn’t do anything when he moved here! But there was little he could do to help that on his own–so I taught him all sorts of things.”
“!!” While a bit of an overstatement, this was something akin to the sky falling down upon Kuroh’s head. ‘Ichigen-sama? That genius…only just became as capable as he is now fairly recently?’
“Though of course, being who he is, it didn’t take him long to surpa.s.s me.” Her eyes crinkled in nostalgic mirth. “But in the beginning, he’d try drowning the vegetables in oil trying to make stir fry, or toss out the das.h.i.+ broth thinking it was part of the burnable garbage–you wouldn’t believe how many times I had to get on to him.”
Kuroh released a moan, “That’s just…!” but after giving it a bit of thought, he concluded that perhaps it really wasn’t so strange. After all, Ichigen had originally been heir to a fencing dojo and an accomplished businessman. He could very easily have simply had no time to learn culinary arts in the first half of his life. ‘But to think that he only learned upon arriving here…’
He always seemed to enjoy cooking so much–and yet only a few years prior he hadn’t even been able to properly sauté vegetables…
So…there were things that Ichigen couldn’t do, huh… It was a strange sensation–something of a shock, but at the same time, a revelation that filled him with some fresh pa.s.sion. “I see… So Ichigen-sama learned his skills from someone else…”
The old woman laughed wryly. “Naturally Miwa-san wasn’t born the way you see him now, you know. He was a bouncing little baby when he came from his mother’s womb, and he was just as much a child as you are at one point as well.”
“Be that as it may…”
“And he received all his knowledge at the hand of teachers and grew up under the censure and praise of adults around him. It’s only natural, right?”
‘So he’s just like me…’ Kuroh reflected silently.
“Plus–I’m sure he’s mentioned to you that he learned his skills with the sword from his grandfather. Am I wrong?”
“…No, you’re not.” He nodded his head deeply. He’d known that much at least for a long time. And yet…he’d never really considered it all that thoroughly.
Watanabe-san’s gaze softened. “Kuroh-chan–that’s how people become bonded to one another. Miwa-san’s grandfather taught him swordsmans.h.i.+p, and now, he’s teaching you.”
“……”
“And so now–it’s not merely Miwa-san who lives within you, but the thoughts and feelings of his grandfather as well have now reached you through the natural flow of things.”
“…Within me?”
“Exactly. So–even if you choose to be instructed in cooking by Miwa-san alone, my lessons through him will automatically reach you as well.” She then added a bit teasingly, “Which would, I suppose, make you my student as well.”
“I…see…” He took a deep breath. “I’d be your…”
“And just so you know–that would make me very happy. I’ll pa.s.s on some day, but through my culinary skills, I’ll still be connected to a youngster like you. And then, perhaps some day you’ll pa.s.s your skills on to someone even younger–be it lessons or swordsmans.h.i.+p, whatever you choose. This way of linking the thoughts and feelings of each generation to the next, on and on, in a never-ending relay…” She paused, slowly adding, “…Perhaps this is what we mean by the word ‘bond’.”
“………” Kuroh’s eyes shone, and he lifted his head, opening his mouth to speak, “Watanabe-san, I–”
“Is Miwa-sensei in?” Kuroh’s expression changed as a man dashed into the garden–it was the son that Watanabe-san lived with.
“What’s the matter? Miwa-san’s out right now.” Her brows furrowed in irritation at his frantic state, but the man didn’t seem to notice his mother’s reaction.
“Craaaap, at a time like this? Oh geez, this is bad…”
He covered his face, head tilted up to the sky, and his mother rounded on him, thoroughly put out by now, “Just what is going on here?”
At this, the man cast Kuroh a worried glance before quickly relating the state of affairs: “It’s the daif.u.ku–I mean, the Yamamoto family’s youngest. He’s disappeared!”
Kuroh’s and Watanabe’s faces both went pale.
As Seita and Kouta related it, while the trio had been out fis.h.i.+ng, a pure white deer had appeared before them, and they’d given chase without thought. While they’d grown quite accustomed to life in the village, nothing could take away the fact that they’d originally grown up in a big city, and so given the rarity of the creature they’d just spotted, they ignored warnings not to go into the mountains alone and headed in that direction.
Both Seita and Kouta were well aware that they were breaking rules that had been drilled into their heads by their elders, though, and after losing sight of the deer, they retreated to their original position. Distance-wise, they likely hadn’t traveled more than 100 meters past the treeline. But upon returning back to the beach–it was there that they realized the youngest, Heita, had somehow disappeared.
Hearing the tale related after-the-fact, Kuroh’s stomach clenched in pain. The two brothers losing sight of their younger brother…must have felt no small amount of fear. They’d apparently wrestled with their options her–go back into the mountains immediately and try to find Heita, or run for help?
Their ultimate decision was one which, from an objective perspective, they ought to have been applauded for making–as despite knowing full well they would be punished for what they’d done, they made a break for the nearest house they could find. It was an action taken upon thorough consideration in order to avoid either of the remaining brothers being stranded as well–and it proved an apt decision, as in no time at all, news of what had happened had made its way throughout the village.
By the time Kuroh reached the boys’ home, Seita and Kouta were clinging to their mother, bawling. She clutched them close while their father, stern-faced, delivered instructions on the search-and-rescue effort to the young men of the village who’d gathered.
The sun was already setting.
Armed with flashlights and pine torches, they elected the member most familiar with the mountains as the leader and set off in groups of four. All groups were distributed GPS transceivers and instructed to remain in contact at all times, with the Yamamoto home designated home base.
Some of the groups used tracking dogs in their efforts, and the groups were distributed haphazardly around the mountain. From time to time, one could catch the sound of someone calling Heita’s name in a loud voice.
The women took to wandering about the village, just in case Heita happened to return. Given his age, there was always the chance he was simply hiding somewhere nearby. Akagi-sensei as well could be spotted walking to and fro, searching for her student with worry etched on her features. Still others were preparing warm meals for the men wandering the mountains in the dark, and others tried to comfort the boys’ mother.
Watanabe-san rea.s.sured her, “He’ll be just fine. Children tend to just pop right up for you to find! Things like this happen every few years–but winter’s past, so I’m sure he’ll be all right.”
By this point…Kuroh had already made his choice: he would set off to save Heita on his own.
He was a child, getting ready to head into the dangerous mountains all alone, well after the sun had set–an action that would, under any other circ.u.mstances, be absolutely unforgivable. However, Kuroh…had a strange conviction rea.s.suring him. He knew…that he would be able to save Heita.
‘If I go, then I’m sure…’
If any other other members of the search teams found out about this–he knew he’d be in for a good scolding, and he was well aware of the risk he was undertaking. This was why he consulted his internal moral code. ‘What would Ichigen-sama do…?’
If Miwa Ichigen were here, there’d be no need for Kuroh to leave at all. He likely would’ve found himself waiting patiently at home with the other children.
But right now, his revered master was nowhere to be seen.
‘Then…’ He set off for the mountains. ‘I’m going. I have to. I’ll save Heita!’
Heita, who’d readched out and grasped his hand tightly with, “Kuroh-chan!”
Heita, who looked up to Kuroh from the bottom of his heart.
Heita, who was adored by all the villagers.
He’d a.s.sured Kuroh that they were friends.
‘Then…’
The Miwa Ichigen inside his mind offered a wry smile and nodded–Get going, then, Kuro.
This was not wrong–it was dangerous, to be sure, but not wrong. Heita was in trouble–right now, and a pressing sense of foreboding settled over Kuroh, frightening him to the core.
‘Hurry! Hurry! HURRY!’
Yatogami Kuroh was like unto a lone wolf, streaking out into the night. Relying on what little moonlight there was, he darted through the trees, leaping over boulders as he raced up the slow.
‘Just hang in there, Heita!’
To be continued…
