Chapter 66: Sakonji's Ire x Biscuit's Explosive Fury
The path of the sword is long; I will seek it relentlessly.
Master's fish was delicious, but it was a pity it lacked wasabi.
Roy took his training blade from the wall, went deep into the forest, and began his daily practice.
Behind him, Sakonji Urokodaki, carrying a basket of gravel, crunched through the snow. He called for Roy to wait, then stepped forward, hung the basket on the tip of Roy's sword, and secured it with a piece of wire. "Practice," he said, his face expressionless.
Roy felt the weight pulling at the blade's tip and glanced over. The old man walked away with his hands behind his back, his steps much lighter than usual. Was he humming an unknown tune?
"Hee hee... Master is angry," Makomo giggled, covering her mouth. "It's what Eiichiro gets for asking..."
"Master definitely thinks he's getting a big head after just a few days of training."
"A student is not necessarily inferior to his teacher, nor a teacher superior to his student." Sabito's face was hidden by his fox mask, but his sudden words seemed to freeze the air. "Is it possible... that Eiichiro's current level is Master's limit?"
"Impossible!" Shinsuke did a somersault, floating down from the birch tree to circle Roy. "You have to admit, this Eiichiro guy is a monster. But Master has been immersed in the way of the sword for over fifty years! He can't be inferior to him."
"No one said Master is inferior," Fukuda said, leaning lazily against a tree trunk, his legs dangling. "Sabito was talking about stamina. Master is old. His physical strength isn't at its peak. Is it really so strange that he can't match a young man?"
"Will you die if you don't contradict me for one day?"
"So what if I do? I'm already dead! What are you gonna do, kill me again?"
"I'll... I'll strangle you!"
"Bring it on! I'll kick your balls off!"
Whoosh~ With a gust of ghostly wind, Shinsuke and Fukuda were at each other's throats again.
Makomo ignored them completely, tugging on Sabito's sleeve. "Hey~ What do you think Master's limit is? How many swings?"
Sabito was silent, his gaze fixed on the boy who was struggling to swing the blade without spilling any of the gravel. After a long moment, he said, "It's definitely less than what Giyu can do now."
When Giyu had left the mountain, he was only skilled enough to handle small-fry demons. But now... Sabito figured he could probably handle five sessions of 'Ten Thousand Swings' a day.
Clack... A piece of gravel fell from the basket.
Roy frowned, bent over to pick it up, and placed it back in the basket. He paused to catch his breath, forced to accept the reality: swinging a weighted sword while trying to control it so precisely was far more difficult than he had imagined.
"The steadier the hand, the fiercer the blade. The less it deviates, the fewer mistakes you will make."
That evening, when he returned with aching, swollen arms, Sakonji Urokodaki was sitting on a tree stump in the yard, meticulously carving a mask. He offered Roy this advice.
He didn't ask Roy how many swings he had completed, and Roy didn't say. The two shared a tacit understanding, ate their dinner, and then lay down on their respective corners of the bed.
Night. A few sparrows perched on the window ledge, preening their feathers.
Roy lay with his hands behind his head, staring at the rafters, where Shinsuke was curled up in a ball, beaten to a pulp. He heard Sakonji say, "Eiichiro, don't be hasty."
Roy grunted a soft "Mm."
He closed his eyes. Makomo, though late, arrived as always, lying down on her side next to him. By a pillar, Sabito stood with his arms crossed, feigning sleep, his eyes closed. Every so often, the ghostly wind would rattle the paper window.
Drowsiness crept over Roy. Before he knew it, he had drifted away from the snowy world and returned to reality.
The familiar sensation of falling...
The boy opened his eyes. Gotoh was already up from the sofa, preparing his things for him to wash up.
"What time is it?"
"Four o'clock."
"What's going on across the way?" Roy mumbled, a toothbrush in his mouth. He noticed shouting outside and could faintly hear the wail of sirens from below. He glanced over.
Gotoh, while packing away the medical ointment, explained, "A fire. As you said, Young Master, Kastro's test has begun."
Flames were devouring Room 1989, adding an intense heat to the already hot summer.
After washing up, Roy pulled on his tracksuit and began his morning run. Gotoh used this time to prepare breakfast. Master and servant both had their tasks, just as Kastro was currently busy fleeing for his life, with Illumi in cold, relentless pursuit.
"This psycho! What did I ever do to you? Just tell me! You don't say a word, you just light my room on fire! I didn't even pay for that room!"
Kastro's hair was singed, and he had a fresh stab wound in his back that was gushing blood. Amidst the chaos, he checked the time. Four and a half hours until they had to meet at the airport. He steeled himself, leaped, and shattered the glass window. In mid-air, he formed a claw with his right hand, dug his fingers into the building's facade, and slid rapidly down the wall. In moments, he had vanished into the panicked crowd below.
Roy, who happened to be running past, glanced up. He saw Illumi lean out of the broken window, and their eyes met. Roy calmly looked away.
One second, two, three. My foolish, dear little brother watched Roy jog away, then pushed himself off the ledge and jumped, following Kastro down.
"Oh my god! Look, another one is jumping!"
The chaotic crowd dissolved into an even greater panic as the flames roared and sirens wailed.
Roy, controlling his pace, ran several laps around the Heavens Arena and returned to his room right on time for his meal.
As he entered, he noticed the door was open. A girl was sitting at his dining table, in his seat, complaining that Gotoh was too stingy to give her any food. Roy raised an eyebrow and walked in.
"Oh, little Roy, you're here! I was just trying to be nice and say goodbye, and look at him!" Biscuit pointed at Gotoh, accusingly. "He wouldn't even give me one bite of porridge!"
"Good job," Roy said, patting Gotoh's shoulder. He pulled up a chair, sat down opposite Biscuit, and treated her as if she were air, beginning to eat his breakfast as Gotoh served him.
Today's meal was avocado toast with a fried egg and bacon, alongside a slice of buttered toast. It wasn't extravagant, but it was nutritious.
Biscuit, having been snubbed by Roy, wasn't annoyed. She watched him take a bite of egg, then a bite of bacon, and swallowed hard. "Share."
Roy ignored her and just ate faster.
Biscuit glared at him, exasperated. "Come on, I'm the one who paid for it!" she snapped. Besides, she added silently in her head, Wing paid for all of Roy's expenses on this trip... and isn't my student's money my money?
It was perfectly logical.
Like I care. Roy couldn't be bothered to deal with her. He polished off the last of his toast like a whirlwind, washed it down with milk, and only then did he spare her a glance. He slowly wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Spit it out. What do you want?"
Biscuit pouted angrily. "Can't I just talk to you if I don't want anything?"
"No."
"..."
Biscuit's muscles began to bulge.
☆☆☆
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