Chapter: Downhill
Mr. Sakonji Urokodaki and Tanjiro stood at the foot of Mount Sagiri, watching Uchiha Lihuo prepare to depart. After spending a month and a half together, their parting stirred a quiet reluctance in all of them.
"Take care on your journey," Urokodaki said. He and Tanjiro didn't say much, only offering a few heartfelt blessings.
"Master Urokodaki, I will fulfill the promise I made to you," Lihuo said with conviction. "And Tanjiro—keep training hard."
Tanjiro nodded earnestly.
As Lihuo waved goodbye, he looked at the masked old man with a deep sense of respect. Though Urokodaki's voice reminded him of Sannin Jiraiya from his world, it was the man's character that impressed him most. Despite knowing Lihuo was an outsider with strange abilities, Urokodaki had shown no hesitation in teaching him the Total Concentration Breathing technique and swordsmanship with full dedication.
Though Lihuo had tried to stay emotionally detached, he couldn't help but admire the retired Water Hashira. Urokodaki had trained him wholeheartedly—hoping, like with Tanjiro, that his students would slay demons and reduce the suffering in the world.
Tanjiro, on the other hand, was only beginning his journey. While Lihuo, a trained ninja from the Hidden Leaf, could grasp techniques quickly due to his chakra control and prior combat experience, Tanjiro was starting from scratch. Reaching Urokodaki's standards would likely take Tanjiro several years.
As he departed, Lihuo looked one last time at Mount Sagiri.
He had chosen not to participate in the Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane. There were two reasons for this decision.
First, he already had power—he was a ninja, a foreign element in this world. Even with Urokodaki's endorsement, using chakra techniques could draw suspicion or worse, jeopardize Urokodaki himself.
Second, it had already been a month and a half since his arrival. He didn't know how much time had passed in the shinobi world. His parents would be worried, and he believed that only by killing enough demons could he fulfill the unknown requirement needed to return home.
Waiting for the next Final Selection, held only once every few years, was not an option.
With the Nichirin sword gifted to him by Urokodaki and a list of known demon hideouts, Lihuo set off.
---
In the Taisho-era archipelago, scale was relative.
For wealthy officials, trains could cross regions in a matter of days. But for ordinary villagers, small towns and mountain hamlets were their entire world.
Upon arriving at a local town, Lihuo wrapped his Nichirin blade in cloth and slung it across his back. He didn't want attention—attention brought questions, and questions brought problems.
Seeing the utility poles and electric wires crisscrossing above the streets, Lihuo was momentarily reminded that this world was more advanced than it seemed. They had electricity, something still rare even in many parts of the shinobi world.
Boom-boom-boom!
A flash of silver streaked across the sky. Heavy rain poured down.
Lihuo had planned to explore the town market, but the sudden downpour forced him to take shelter under a roadside pavilion. Watching the dark clouds overhead, he guessed the rain wouldn't stop anytime soon. Summer was approaching—the season of typhoons.
The storm intensified quickly, flooding the streets up to the calves. It wouldn't hinder Lihuo; with chakra, he could easily walk over water. But it would still be unpleasant.
Besides, he didn't even know where the demons were yet.
Reluctantly, he decided to rent a carriage. If there was one willing to travel in such conditions.
Money, however, could persuade. At a carriage station, Lihuo traded silver coins he had earned selling wild game. He found a caravan willing to wait out the storm and head for the nearest train station.
His destination: Tokyo.
Though not yet a sprawling metropolis of 30 million, the capital already held millions of people. In such dense populations, demons would surely be lurking.
Of course, one carriage wouldn't get him all the way there. He'd travel to the nearest station, then take a train into the heart of the city.
---
The carriage was small but well maintained. Soft tatami mats covered the floor, offering a surprisingly comfortable ride.
Lihuo wasn't alone.
A middle-aged man sat beside him, cradling a young girl in his arms. The man wore a simple kimono and had kind eyes, full of love for the child who clutched imported Western candies.
"Papa, open your mouth," the girl giggled, unwrapping a sweet and offering it to her father.
The man laughed and accepted the treat. "Ahhh—delicious!"
The tender moment stirred something in Lihuo. He hadn't seen his parents in nearly two months. Watching the affection between father and daughter made him ache for home.
"Where are you headed, young man?" the middle-aged man asked, glancing at the storm outside and then back to Lihuo. A long journey would be unbearable without conversation.
"Tokyo," Lihuo replied curtly.
"Oh, then we're heading the same way." The man smiled. "My wife works there. She says Tokyo is amazing—endless opportunities, massive trains like monsters, even self-driving carriages! A month's pay there is worth half a year in the countryside."
He chuckled. "We'll ride one of those monster trains later. They say it takes only half a day to reach Tokyo from the station."
"Tokyo is big," Lihuo said, "but not as magical as people think. It's just a larger town. Like everywhere else, it has its shadows. Some come to Tokyo chasing dreams but end up homeless. They can't even afford the train fare to return."
The man looked startled, but thoughtful. "I see… Still, my wife has a stable job there. I guess I'm going to join her, finally. And once we're settled, Qiandao can start elementary school. She won't grow up illiterate like me."
"That's a good thing," Lihuo said with a small nod. "Learning opens doors. The more knowledge one has, the more choices they have in life."
He spoke sincerely, but the mention of "free education" at Neon's public schools made his eyes briefly flicker with anger. In his world, too many children never had that chance.
Just then, the carriage stopped, and the coachman opened the door.
"Guests, it's time for dinner. The convoy has prepared a meal."
The man smiled and scooped up his daughter. "Let's go, sweetheart. Time to eat."
Lihuo stepped out into the damp air, his hand resting lightly on the cloth-wrapped sword. The rain had paused—but something else hung in the air.
The night wasn't over.