Chapter 495 - The Branch I Desire is Here
"—and that's the gist of it. Things have gotten strange again, in a way I can't quite explain."
After I accepted his desperate plea and reluctantly released him from my lap, we sat for a while.
As always, he must have been unconsciously matching my posture. My disciple, Haru, sat properly beside me, his words flowing with a familiarity that was incomparable to when we first met. Listening to him speak, a smile naturally bloomed on my face.
"Fufu… that is quite a peculiar story. Unfortunately, it's not something I've ever experienced myself."
"Right? I've been trying all sorts of things, but I'm not sure what to do."
Having spent my childhood immersed in my grandfather's swordsmanship dojo, I was used to interacting with men—but if asked whether I was 'good' at it, that was another matter entirely.
Part of the reason was my own physical frailty. I never went out to play, always staying indoors, and Ui was aware that she suffered from a certain kind of world-naivete.
In truth, Ui found 'younger boys' to be difficult.
No, not difficult, but rather—incomprehensible, perhaps.
She'd always been the type to be doted on by other girls. While she found it a bit vexing that this was likely due to her perpetually childlike appearance, being approached by others was nothing short of a blessing.
If people were willing to come to her, all she had to do was treat them with sincerity and she was blessed with many friends. For that reason, she had no trouble with females, regardless of their age.
As for men, she was similarly at ease with adults, thanks to the familiarity she'd built up through interacting with the students who visited Matsukaze. However, boys her own age or younger were a bit of a problem.
While she wouldn't say she was bad with words, she, and others, acknowledged that the 'rhythm' of her conversation was a little slow. When faced with energetic boys, she'd often find herself just trying to keep up, which sometimes made her feel timid… or maybe not.
That's how it should have been, and yet.
"You say you're troubled, but you're smiling, you know."
"Huh? Oh, well… it's not a negative slump or anything, and I'm the type who generally enjoys any trouble I run into in a game."
"Fufu, you're such a boy."
She ought to consider it a stroke of unexpected luck, something to be grateful for.
Their meeting itself was a miracle. It was a great blessing just to have found someone to inherit her techniques, but for that disciple to be—
"You should say that to Irori. Whenever we see each other, that guy calls me a troublemaker or an automatic event generator, saying whatever he wants."
"You and Irori-kun are truly good friends."
"Oh yes, we're the best of friends. According to him, I'm his 'bad influence' friend, though."
"He's just being shy, you know."
"…That's… a chilling thought."
"Oh my…"
—such a kind boy, able to speak without tension, anxiety, or reservation—so sincere and considerate it was almost admirable.
His eyes were gentle, his voice was soft, his choice of words was clever and full of wit… She could find his virtues without even trying.
It's only natural, when interacting with people. But as someone who knew how difficult and challenging that could be, she didn't think it should be dismissed with a simple 'it's only natural.'
And all the more so, when that wasn't all there was to him. At the very least, Ui knew that no matter how hard she tried, she could never conduct herself in the same way he did.
It wasn't just about having fun himself.
It wasn't just about entertaining the other person.
His nature, of not considering something 'good' until both parties were enjoying themselves, was worthy of respect.
—And if she were to say something like that…
"Changing the subject, Haru-kun. You seem to be using your sword in a rather peculiar way, don't you?"
"Eh, yes. Yes? Huh? A peculiar way, you say…?"
"A 'habit' is showing in the wear of your blade. It's different from the forms of the Kesshiki style… No, perhaps it's better to call this an 'arrangement.'"
"W-wait a minute, what do you mean, a habit in the wear of my blade? The durability is just a number going down, there's no visible—"
"Hmm…………………… Is it perhaps… [Striking Iron]?"
"…Wha… No, no, no… no way. Eh? Huh? You're kidding me, that's seriously scary. How do you know that? That's practically a psychic power…!"
—to this 'disciple' who directed his respect for his 'master' straight at her.
She knew exactly how he would react—so she made sure to convey any words of praise that might go too far through pampering instead.
It was best to avoid seeing any more of his charmingly direct expressions. Teasingly pampering him, and catching just a small glimpse, was just right.
That they were able to build such a close relationship without being conscious of each other as members of the opposite sex was surely something of a miracle.
It was likely helped by the fact that his hands were… well, from what she'd heard, it seemed his situation was more than just a handful. That fact had probably helped as well.
—It was, from the bottom of her heart, an ideal relationship. It wasn't that she didn't want more than this; it was that she wanted this very connection, and for that reason, this was perfect for them.
This is how it should be.
If she could wish for anything, it would be that she and he could remain a 'master' and 'disciple' who could respect each other forever, Ui wished, as she always did—
"If you ever need a 'name,' please feel free to consult me anytime. Whether it's for a 'technique,' a 'form,' or… this may be a bit premature, but even a 'school,' I will lend you my strength."
"That's more than a bit premature… Man, I really can't hide anything from you, can I…"
—and because she couldn't imagine a scenario where she would ever receive affection from him beyond his 'reverence for a master,' she smiled to herself at the thought that it was a needless wish.
It was hard to imagine a future where they, two kindred spirits who move at their own pace, would have a falling out. If that was the case, she could assume the bond between master and disciple was secure.
That was a very, very happy thought—and perhaps, just a tiny, tiny bit, disappointing as well, she thought, amused by her own playful heart.
The Sword Saint smiled cheerfully… and simply, peacefully, doted upon her captivating disciple.
That's right
I wonder.