On the narrow foggy mountain.
The moonlight filtered through the thick fog, falling like silver gauze in front of the wooden house at the foot of the mountain.
Sakonji Urokodaki stood like a stone statue at the door, and through his red tengu mask, one could see the worry in his eyes.
With a creak, the door of the wooden house opened, and Shinobu walked over with a blanket. She handed it to her master and gently comforted him:
"Master, those two will definitely come back!" She looked at the white strands in his hair with concern, "You've been standing all day; why not go rest for a bit?"
Sakonji Urokodaki raised his rough hand and gently ruffled Shinobu's hair, his tone softening considerably.
"Silly girl, I'm fine. I just want to see the moon."
"Wow!" Sabito's incredulous voice came from the fog, tinged with a bit of annoyance, "Master, when did you start talking to me so gently?"
Upon hearing this, Urokodaki's body shook, and Shinobu's eyes widened. They both laughed in unison because two figures emerged from the fog.
This meant that Sabito and Giyu had returned safely, having successfully passed the final selection.
"Good to be back, good to be back, good to be back..." Urokodaki muttered repeatedly until Sabito and Giyu stepped out of the fog and stood before him, finally putting his heart at ease.
Sabito grinned widely and said, "Master, we are both very strong; your worries are unnecessary."
"By the way, we made friends too!"
"They're all very strong, especially the one named Tendo Kazama. He's the disciple of the former Thunder Hashira; do you know him?"
He rambled on, while Giyu remained quiet, nodding frequently.
After a brief chat, Sabito and Giyu suddenly became serious. They stretched out their arms and laid out their bundles.
"Master, not just the two of us came back; they returned too!"
Sabito's tone carried a hint of sadness, while Giyu slowly unveiled a layer of cloth covering eleven disaster masks.
When the blood-stained masks came into view, Sakonji Urokodaki understood everything in that moment.
He trembled as he took the tattered disaster masks, the faces and voices of his disciples flashing through his mind.
"Good to be home!"
Sakonji Urokodaki's voice trembled as he spoke, this time addressing his departed disciples.
Shinobu understood immediately and hurriedly pulled the two simpletons into the house, knowing her master needed some time alone.
Sakonji carefully wrapped the masks and took his sword up the mountain.
Moments later, he walked through the foggy mountain with a neatly cut blank gravestone.
The fog swirled thickly, like white ink, yet even so, it couldn't conceal the sorrow of a teacher.
Sakonji found a good spot, dug a hole, and carefully carved a name into one of the masks.
Gradually, the pit was neatly filled with eleven masks bearing names, and he scooped a handful of soil to fill the hole.
Before long, a mound appeared on the narrow foggy mountain, and Sakonji erected a stone tablet.
The tablet bore eleven names, with four large characters at the end.
Grave of the Beloved Disciples.
Sakonji Urokodaki held the gravestone, tears streaming down his face from beneath the tengu mask, droplets falling onto the fresh soil, creating tiny bubbles.
In a daze, eleven young figures appeared at the foot of the grave, each wearing a radiant smile.
"Goodbye, Master!"
"Master, we are leaving; please take care!"
"Master, it's good to be home!"
"Master, it was our choice, so don't blame yourself!"
"Master..."
Through blurred vision, Sakonji Urokodaki saw a beam of light descending from the sky, as his eleven disciples ascended with smiles.
In that moment, he felt at peace.
Not far away, the three little ones quietly watched everything from the bushes, also bidding farewell to their senior brothers and sisters.
Above in the sky, the stars twinkled, but this sky did not belong solely to the narrow foggy mountain; it also belonged to the Peach Mountain.
Autumn on Peach Mountain was a season of abundant harvest, with wild peach trees laden with ripe fruits, each one juicy and fragrant, hanging from the branches, making one's mouth water.
Tendo walked along the familiar path, casually plucking a peach. He rubbed it on his clothes and took a bite, juice bursting forth.
"Sigh!"
"If only Shinobu were here; the peaches on Peach Mountain are so delicious!"
"What a pity, she can't have any!"
Seeing the peaches reminded him of someone, he could only turn his sorrow into appetite and devour ten pounds before thinking about anything else.
On the distant horizon, bathed in moonlight, a small figure quietly emerged.
It was Old Man Kuwajima. Hearing strange "munching" sounds from the peach grove in the middle of the night, he'd thought wild boars were after ripe peaches and came out with his sword to investigate.
Until he saw that familiar figure. The old man's face twisted in exasperation.
Tendo sat surrounded by a small mountain of peach pits, still burying his face in the fruit.
"Tch!"
The old man sighed deeply, all joy of reunion instantly vanishing.
"Tendo, is this how you come home—without even entering the house first?"
"Just sleep with your peaches tonight!"
Hearing the voice, Tendo looked up to see the old man standing there.
He rushed over to hug him, but the old man pushed his disciple away with disgust. "Don't rub against me, you're filthy!"
"Huh?" Tendo blinked at his master in confusion. Since when did this old man care so much about appearances? Something was off—nine parts strange out of ten.
"Old man, did something progress with Granny Shizuko?"
"Get lost!" The old man kicked at Tendo, who easily dodged.
"Well now!" The old man drawled, impressed. This brat had improved quite a bit—must have actually been training hard. Truly the sun rising from the west.
"By the way, why didn't that little girl come with you?" The old man asked without turning back as he walked toward the cabin.
Tendo followed leisurely with hands behind his head, replying:
"Old man, I was going for the Final Selection, not a picnic. How could she come along?"
"How was it?"
"Old man, let me tell you—your disciple was unstoppable! Those demons were so weak, I cut them down one after another with my Nichirin Blade. You should've seen your disciple's heroic bearing, dashing and debonair—"
Before Tendo could finish boasting, Old Man Kuwajima gave him a sharp knock on the head.
"Enough nonsense! You're twice as good at bragging as fighting!"
"Never underestimate enemies when wielding a blade. Stay humble and vigilant, or you'll lose your life!"
Rubbing the bump on his head, Tendo nodded.
"Hungry?" Old Man Kuwajima suddenly asked. "Why eat so many peaches when home is right here?"
"Starving!" Tendo nodded like a pecking chick. "I didn't want to disturb your rest—pure filial devotion!"
"Change your clothes, you look like a beggar." The old man pointed to the cabin while heading to the kitchen. "Dinner soon."
No matter how long Tendo was away, the old man remained the same—harsh words masking a soft heart.