By the time Iwayuki returned with the ingredients and everyone had finished making the strawberry daifuku, the sun was already beginning to sink toward the west.
Yoriichi held the strawberry daifuku in his hands, looking helplessly at the tightly closed door before him as he knocked.
"Hiru, the strawberry daifuku is ready."
Creak—
Hiru opened the door slightly, casting a faintly resentful glance at Yoriichi and the four vigilant swordsmen standing behind him. Finally, he stepped aside, muttering, "Come in."
The room was nearly empty. Aside from the painting supplies that covered an entire wall, only the easel standing in the center drew the eye.
As they approached, they noticed a finished piece already on display. Painted only in black and white, it depicted a radiant sunrise. Just looking at it brought a sense of calm and quiet joy. Yet, the subtle gleam reflecting off the paint in the candlelight revealed that it had been completed only recently.
"What an extraordinary piece!" Rengoku exclaimed. "I may not understand painting, but to capture a sunrise using only two colors—it's incredible!"
"Indeed, a masterpiece," Iwayuki said with interest as he stepped closer. "The brushwork is so delicate... it reminds me of the technique of a master painter from Shinano about two years ago."
"Who?" Yato asked curiously. He wasn't familiar with art at all—he only thought the painting looked beautiful—but hearing Iwayuki's words, he leaned in to listen.
"I believe his name was... Mr. Yakai," Iwayuki mused, stroking his chin. "I've never heard of him showing his face—only his works circulate. A man of remarkable talent. Ah, and his haiku and waka are also quite elegant."
Yoriichi smiled slightly, holding the plate of daifuku as he watched Hiru subtly straighten his posture out of the others' sight.
"Aren't you going to eat the daifuku?"
"Yes!" Hiru immediately turned around, taking the plate from Yoriichi before glancing at Iwayuki. "You've got good taste!"
"Haha... I used to be a private tutor. Just some general knowledge," Iwayuki said humbly, before frowning slightly. "Mr. Hiru seems quite fond of painting?"
"Of course." Hiru carefully sniffed the daifuku, picking out the one that smelled best. "After all, I don't need to rest anymore."
"Hiru—the rise and fall of the sun, the boundary between day and night. If I remember correctly…" Oborozuki lifted his gaze from the painting to look at Hiru. "The Tsugikuni family once lived in Shinano, didn't they?"
Iwayuki's eyes widened slightly. "Wait, Mr. Oborozuki, are you saying—"
"That's right! That's me!" Hiru puffed up proudly. "So it seems that even if I really did die, my art would still be remembered! Guess I don't have to feel too regretful anymore."
"That's truly astonishing!" Rengoku said earnestly. "With such skill, your work will definitely be remembered!"
Hiru froze at his words for a moment, then smiled faintly. Setting the daifuku on a nearby table, he walked to the easel, gently picked up a brush, and ran his fingers over its handle.
"Yes... at least I can still be remembered. I just don't know if I'll ever have the chance to paint again after today."
The room fell silent for a long moment before Hiru broke the stillness.
"So, how are you planning to test me? Hurry up—I still want to eat my daifuku afterward."
Oborozuki clearly saw the sorrow in Yoriichi's eyes as he looked at Hiru, but he made no move to stop him. The former sighed softly.
"We want to know whether you would harm an injured human when you're hungry."
"Hunger, huh? That's easy—I'm starving right now," Hiru replied, a hint of confusion in his tone. "But where exactly are you going to find an injured human?"
"I'm rare blood," Yato said quietly, drawing his sword. "For a demon, consuming me would be worth more than eating a dozen humans. I'll test you with my blood. Are you ready?"
Hiru turned to glance at Yoriichi behind him.
Yoriichi's hand was already resting on his sword hilt. Meeting Hiru's eyes, he said calmly, "When you truly intend to bite down, I'll step in."
Hiru sighed, moving the easel aside before stepping back several paces. Pointing toward the farthest corner of the room, he said to Yato, "You, over there."
"Don't worry!" Rengoku drew his sword with a sharp sound. "If it comes to that, we'll make sure you die as a human!"
"Not exactly comforting..." Hiru muttered, turning to Yato and taking a deep breath. "Alright."
After seeing the three swordsmen nod to him, Yato didn't hesitate. He slashed his left arm in one swift motion, and blood gushed freely from the wound.
From across the room, Hiru caught the scent—and it was overwhelmingly tempting.
Almost instantly, his demonic traits surfaced. His ink-black eyes turned a pale gray, contracting into sharp, cross-shaped pupils.
Fangs glinted coldly from his mouth; his nails lengthened into razor-sharp claws. Breathing in the sweet, intoxicating scent of blood, Hiru unconsciously took a step forward.
'So sweet.'
'So hungry.'
'Eat him.'
'Eat him!'
'If I eat him, my strength will grow... I won't have to endure this hunger anymore!'
'Eat him, eat him! Eat him!!'
Yet no matter how fiercely the hunger roared inside him, Hiru stopped after taking just one step. The demonic aura surrounding him only grew heavier.
As time passed, sharp horns began to push from his forehead. The ends of his hair faded to a deathly gray, and eerie markings spread across his once gentle features.
The silence stretched endlessly. Just as everyone began to think Hiru had managed to suppress his demonic urges, he suddenly moved.
It was a lightning-fast strike—Hiru lunged at Yato, pinning him down hard. Only Yoriichi moved at the same instant, appearing beside them. The other three swordsmen only realized Yato was under attack a heartbeat later.
Before they could intervene, Yoriichi swung his blade across their path, blocking them. His eyes never left Hiru.
"I won't let him bite. Please... wait a little longer. Give him more time. Please."
The three swordsmen hesitated but didn't strike. They tightened their grips on their blades and surrounded Hiru, keeping their full focus on him.
Yato was under the greatest pressure. He had slain more than forty demons, yet this was the first time he had truly felt like prey. He hadn't even realized Hiru had moved before he was already pinned, his limbs restrained and useless.
All he could see was Hiru's twisted, menacing face, the growing horns on his head, and his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed repeatedly. His sharp fangs gleamed in the dim light. The only thing that gave Yato the slightest comfort was that, despite the swallowing motions, Hiru's jaw remained tightly clenched.
The moment didn't last long. Yato felt Hiru pull back slightly, still gritting his teeth, his gray eyes locked on Yato's bleeding arm as his breathing grew more and more ragged.
Yoriichi unconsciously tightened his grip on the hilt. The jet-black blade shimmered faintly red—but he didn't notice. His eyes stayed fixed on Hiru's trembling form.
[Please, Hiru... don't lose.]