Shigure-san apparently can’t cook. Today, they’re eating out again, enjoying her favorite Chicken Hot Pot.
*The writing style has been changed slightly. This is not from anyone’s perspective. It will return to Kanata-‘s perspective in a few chapters.*
Mibu Shigure eats out often because she can’t cook.
Mibu Shigure is a person of effort. Naturally, she studied cooking and put in a lot of effort.
But reality is cruel. Effort is not always rewarded, and even Mibu Shigure, a master of the Kyosui Jigen Ryu (Mirror-Water Dimension Style), could not escape this law.
Shigure-san found less appeal in cooking than in swordsmanship, so she quickly abandoned her futile efforts.
And so, Mibu Shigure today, as she did yesterday, rushes out to eat.
As a swordsman with high physical activity and also a Bio-Metal soldier, Mibu Shigure has a hearty appetite.
Her favorite is chicken, and she especially has a weakness for Chicken Hot Pot.
In the deepest part of the private room at the yakitori restaurant “Torigen,” a place known as the “Shigure Room,” sat Mibu Shigure, enjoying Chicken Hot Pot, with Ishiyumi Abumi, her right-hand woman, beside her.
“Director, these tsuremi are perfectly cooked.”
Abumi likes to take care of Shigure. It might be her hobby, or perhaps her raison d’être.
Her devoted care for Shigure makes her seem like a doting wife.
“Mmm, *munch munch*.”
Abumi, being clever and thoughtful, uses the intercom on the table to order more drinks as their alcohol is running low.
It seems she didn’t win the “Woman Officer I Want as My Son’s Wife Contest” for nothing.
“Ah, Genma-san. Please bring two more cups of chilled warm ‘Ippon-gi.’ Come on, Director, have another drink.”
Abumi pours Shigure’s favorite sake, “Ippon-gi” Daiginjo, into a small cup.
“Thank you. Sake tastes best when poured by you, Abumi.”
Mibu Shigure says this with a completely straight face. It’s precisely because she often says such things that the members of Squad 2, “Rinsei,” tell her and her Vice Director, “Get married already.”
“Your guest has arrived.”
The waitress’s clear voice rings out into the room.
Apparently, she’s a legendary part-timer, known even in the Garden as a “Part-Time Master,” having mastered every kind of job imaginable, though whether this is true or not is uncertain.
There are also irrelevant truths that exist in the World; it’s just that simple.
After the waitress’s announcement, the sliding door to the private room quietly opens, and in walks a ruffian with long hair reminiscent of a lion and a stubble beard like a defeated warrior.
“Oh, Shigure and Abumi, it’s been a while.”
“Maakure-san, it’s been a long time.”
Abumi, keeping her seiza posture, turns to the ruffian and bows.
“Maakure, you’ve never arrived on time. Should I engrave ‘Punctuality’ on your forehead?”
The punctual Mibu Shigure gives him a gentle reminder. Though Shigure knows it’s like talking to a brick wall.
“Don’t be so stiff. We’ve known each other for a long time.”
Kidouin Maakure plops down on a cushion and crosses his legs.
Abumi quickly hands him a sake cup and pours him a drink. Her demeanor now is that of a dedicated server.
“Oh, thank you. Sake tastes best when poured by Abumi.”
“I already said that. Abumi, you don’t need to fuss over Maakure so much. His insolence knows no bounds.”
“…………You’re relentless, even after not seeing each other for a while.”
“And I could add that his lack of propriety knows no bottom. Live without restraint, but within reason.”
Shigure snaps and then takes a bite of chicken.
Abumi believes that her respected Mibu Shigure values etiquette above all else.
The only exception is this rough warrior she’s known since childhood.
Only when dealing with Maakure does Shigure’s words carry a sting. It must be a natural relationship.
Abumi, who has always followed the female swordsman and the rough warrior around, envies their relationship a little.
She was truly relieved when she realized Shigure seemed to have no romantic feelings for Maakure. **This is a misunderstanding. Read on.** Abumi thinks that friendship can exist between men and women, and she doesn’t believe otherwise.
It would be insane not to believe it when there’s a living example right in front of you.
“Abumi, eat too. Maakure will eat all the chicken.”
Called by Shigure, Abumi picks up her chopsticks and takes some chicken from the pot into her bowl.
It seems they should order more chicken; Abumi reaches for the intercom.
“Come to think of it, Shigure, you’ve taken on a disciple, haven’t you? I heard he’s the nephew of that Agito. You’re quite the eccentric, aren’t you?”
“Marika asked me to. But while he resembles Agito in appearance, his personality is completely different. He has great potential, frighteningly so. I can still play the role of a master for now, but he will soon surpass me.”
Maakure’s chopsticks stop, and his face turns serious. It’s the face of a fierce lion, befitting his moniker “Lion Hair.”
Abumi puts down the intercom; she didn’t want to interrupt their conversation.
“Hey now, are you saying Mibu Shigure, the swordsman who mastered the Kyosui Jigen Ryu, can be surpassed by mere talent?”
“I didn’t say ‘mere talent.’ You’ll understand when you meet him. Kanata- has teeth. Marika and I want to raise him as a wolf. Not a starving wolf like Agito, but a true wolf.”
When Maakure takes out his pipe, Abumi places an ashtray on the table and lights it for him.
“You seem to think highly of that kid, Kanata-. I’m starting to get a little interested myself. Maybe I’ll go see his face sometime.”
Exhaling a ring of smoke, Maakure speaks again, tapping his pipe against the ashtray.
“If you want to watch, come to the empty lot on the outskirts of the graveyard tomorrow at 5. Kanata- is scheduled to train with Tozen. Since the opponent is that Tozen, I plan to go and observe. If he seems likely to get seriously injured, I’ll have to intervene.”
“Tozen giving training? I don’t know what kind of tricks you used, but you’ve really managed to get him to agree. His principle is that if you want to make a killer better, they have to kill, right?”
Abumi interjects tentatively.
“Kanata- is a rather peculiar individual.”
“Peculiar, you say? Peculiar how?”
Maakure, who had been about to pour a drink but was stopped by Abumi’s hand, started pouring his own and didn’t realize the contradiction in his words.
“If you understood the reason, you wouldn’t call it peculiar. Instead of reading unhealthy books, try reading a dictionary once in a while.”
The fact that he didn’t say “erotic books” concisely captures the personality of Mibu Shigure.
“A dictionary? I can’t read something like that, unlike sutras. But speaking of Tozen, I never thought I’d end up fighting side-by-side with him. You really never know about people’s connections.”
“Indeed. You have a point.”
“If only it were sutras,” Shigure thought, knowing that despite being raised in a temple, he’d never read a single sutra. But it was too much effort to mention.
Shigure recalls the past. As Maakure said, you never know about people’s connections. She never expected to meet Tozen again at the Garden.
Mibu Shigure’s father, Mibu Kanryusai’s Kyosui Jigen Ryu dojo, was once located in Shinro.
A dojo-buster suddenly appeared there: the great serpent Tozen.
More accurately, the Great Serpent Tozen at that time was still a nameless boy who went around wrecking various dojos, feared by the dojo masters as the Calamity Serpent.
This young serpent appeared at the Kyosui Jigen Ryu dojo to challenge Mibu Kanryusai Tokisada, the greatest swordsman in Shinro.
Sensing the serpent’s strength, Tokisada restrained his hot-blooded disciples and said,
“So, you are the Calamity Serpent, the dojo-buster. You may be snake-like, but it seems you are a small serpent, not a great one. Rumors always add a bit of embellishment…”
“I didn’t come here for an argument, hurry up and draw. You can write your will while you’re at it. I’ll wait that long.”
Tokisada drew his beloved sword, Meikyoshisui, displayed on the household shrine, and assumed a defensive stance.
“By the way, young man, don’t you think this duel is a bit unfair?”
“Huh? I’m here to kill, not to duel!”
“Precisely. If I lose, I not only lose the dojo’s reputation but also my life. So? Is there any benefit for me if I win?”
“Stop making excuses and come at me!”
The boy known as the Calamity Serpent, or rather, the devilish child, instinctively sensed that Tokisada’s stance had no openings.
Unlike the weaklings with only a reputation he’d encountered before, this kind of person should be let to make the first move, the devilish sword demon knew this without being taught.
“How about this? If I win, I want you to work as a menial laborer at the dojo for one year. Wouldn’t that be fair?”
“If you win, I’ll do that!”
The devilish swordsman had no intention of working.
If he lost, it meant death. If they wanted to make his corpse a menial laborer, they could try; he thought so.
“Very well. On my sword, I promise I won’t go back on my word. Now… let us fight!”
Thus began the duel between Mibu Kanryusai Tokisada, acclaimed as the greatest master among the successive inheritors of the Kyosui Jigen Ryu, and the sword demon serpent.
The disciples watching understood why their master was personally facing him.
This dojo-breaking devil child was a child of conflict, a genius at killing.
A demon they could never hope to match, and even Tokisada couldn’t guarantee victory. The duel soon turned into a deathmatch.
Tokisada, with his superior experience, won the deathmatch that lasted for an hour.
The sword demon’s left arm was severed, and he was immediately taken to the hospital.
Then, tearing off his sutured arm, he fled the hospital, and the dojo-busting incident seemed to be over.
However, one month later, an incident occurred that surprised the disciples of the Dimension Style.
The one-armed devil child serpent returned to the dojo.
And, while grumbling curses, he worked as a menial laborer at the dojo for one year.
Tokisada gave the nameless devil child the name Tozen. Thus, the later “Man-Slayer Tozen” was born.
And on the day Tozen left the dojo after the promised year had passed, Tokisada handed him a sword.
“I don’t need a sword. Stick it on the shrine or something.”
“This isn’t a sword to be enshrined. It’s a cursed blade with a history.”
Tozen, who showed no interest in famous or treasured swords, seemed interested in the cursed blade.
“Heh, trying to get rid of me and this cursed blade’s bad luck too, huh? You’re a sly old man.”
“It’s impossible to get rid of this sword’s curse. Because this sword *is* the curse… ‘Onryoto Gakimaru,’ that is its name.”
“Its name is Gaki, but it seems it’s not for a child. Interesting. I’ll take it as payment for my labor.”
Tozen took the cursed sword and hung it at his waist. The cursed blade is said to bring misfortune to its wielder, but Tozen didn’t care.
Misfortune = danger. He was even looking forward to what kind of dangers it would bring.
“Let me warn you, Gakimaru invites disaster upon its wielder. But I imagine that’s exactly what you want, Tozen-kun. You probably won’t even have a proper death… but you probably don’t care about that either, do you?”
“Mibu-ojisan, guys like me aren’t meant to die in bed. You die peacefully in bed, with Shigure watching over you… Goodbye.”
Young Shigure, holding onto his father’s kimono hem, hesitantly speaks.
“…Tozen, are you leaving?”
“Yeah, the promised year is over. Take care of yourself. Grow up to be a fine woman.”
“…Will I see you again?”
Tozen shakes his head.
“It’s best for unlucky people like me to have no connections. If we ever meet again, it will be unfortunate for you.”
Tozen, having finished his period of waiting, left like a gust of wind, without looking back.
“If we ever meet again, it will be unfortunate for me… It wasn’t unfortunate at all.”
Shigure remarks, taking a sip of sake.
“Perhaps misfortune awaits you from now on?”
Maakure scratches his nose when he notices Abumi’s stern gaze.
“Don’t say such unlucky things!”
“My bad, my bad. If Shigure is going to face misfortune, it’s probably missing her chance to get married.”
“Maakure-san! …You’ve committed an offense, brace yourself!!”
Abumi grabs Maakure’s lion-like hair and shoves the bamboo container of shichimi (seven-flavor chili pepper) into his mouth without mercy.
Abumi can become a demon without hesitation when it concerns the honor of Shigure.
“Stop putting shichimi in my mouth! Ugh, spicy! So spicy!”
“It’s because you talk too much! Be more careful from now on!”
“Y-you’re t-too much… If Shigure becomes an old maid… I’ll marry her…”
Mibu Shigure points the tip of Meikyoshisui, the sword passed down from her father, at Maakure’s swollen, codfish-like mouth.
“No way! I’d rather cut myself open and die than marry you!”
“Wh-what… are you saying?”
Shigure thinks he’s truly hopeless.
She wishes he wouldn’t say such things in front of Abumi.
He’s always been foolish, but he should at least pay some attention to Abumi’s feelings. Yet, he doesn’t notice them at all.
Still, Abumi is quite eccentric herself. What does she see in this disheveled, clumsy man?
Well, as the saying goes, different strokes for different folks. If Abumi can be happy, that’s all that matters.
“Maakure” and “Abumi” both sound like parts of horse tack, and perhaps their names go well together.
No, Abumi can’t get married for a while, Shigure reconsiders.
It’s not just because such an idiot is too good for Abumi.
It’s because she belatedly realized that if she married him off, her own dependence on Abumi for all household matters would put her in a difficult position.
***
This story has smoking, eating, drinking, and a lot of talking. Their mouths are busy, aren’t they? (lol)
