"…That's enough."

Perhaps believing that Takeo would not survive in this state, Kokushibo murmured those words softly. He gave one final, regretful glance at Kyojuro, now exposed to the morning sunlight, then turned and disappeared.

Had the sun not risen, he would have finished off both Takeo and the Flame Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps.

It was a shame—the Flame Hashira was no ordinary Pillar who could be killed at will. Even among the previous generations of Hashira, the strength of the Flame Pillar ranked among the highest.

Kokushibo hadn't been able to kill him outright, and if he lingered any longer, he risked being exposed to the sunlight.

He had no choice but to retreat.

Still, the primary objective had been accomplished, and Kokushibo didn't concern himself with the rest.

Muzan Kibutsuji likely wouldn't say anything about it. Though Muzan was nominally Kokushibo's lord, in reality, the relationship between them was more of a partnership.

Even if Kokushibo had done nothing, Muzan probably wouldn't have truly been angry with him.

It was just that Kokushibo's samurai nature—the discipline forged over centuries—would not allow him to ignore Muzan Kibutsuji's commands outright. That was all.

Kokushibo's figure vanished into the shadows, as if he had never existed at all.

But Kyojuro no longer cared about the Upper Rank One who had already "escaped."

He rushed to Takeo's side and caught him just as he was about to collapse. His hands trembled, his body shook, and his breathing grew erratic.

"Takeo!!"

If an ordinary person had suffered such grievous wounds, it would've been no different from death.

But Kyojuro discovered—Takeo's half-ruptured heart was still beating!

It was still beating!

"Ahem… Did he… run away…"

Takeo's eyes were vacant, lifeless, as though he had lost his sight.

Kyojuro said in a low, strained voice, "He escaped before the sun fully rose. I'm sorry… I didn't seize the opportunity you created. I am so ashamed!"

"Don't… say that… We… did our best…"

Takeo spoke with difficulty.

The wounds were far too severe. Even with [No Injury Blood Recovery] and his innate healing ability, the gaping hole in his torso couldn't close immediately. On top of that, Takeo could feel his life force rapidly fading.

Takeo's skin grew paler, and his breathing became shallower.

But he showed no sign of worry. Instead, he tried to comfort Kyojuro, whispering, "Don't… worry about me… I'm… fine."

"Really… are you okay?" For the first time, Kyojuro voiced his doubt.

Takeo forced a faint smile. "It's okay… I just want to take a nap… that's all…"

With those final words, he could no longer hold on—his eyes slowly closed.

"Takeo! Takeo!!!"

Kyojuro's desperate cries echoed in his ears, but Takeo no longer had the strength to respond.

His consciousness faded into a haze, and his heart… stopped beating.

In that moment, Kyojuro almost believed he was gone.

But just two seconds after Takeo's heart ceased beating—

Boom, boom—!

His heart resumed its rhythm. And then, his internal organs began to regenerate—at a speed visible to the naked eye!

[Restart]!

…

"Here again…"

In the dim void, Takeo couldn't discern which direction was which.

This wasn't his consciousness space—but Takeo had a vague impression of it.

He still remembered the first time he faced the water demon and nearly died. He had seemed to arrive in this place… and had seen a gentle woman.

Thinking back now, that woman must have been his mother, Kuizhi.

But this time, Takeo didn't see her.

Instead, he saw someone else.

"Brother! Takeo-nii! Over here!"

A boy with a monk's haircut jumped up and waved at him. Beside him stood a girl wearing a kimono, a little older than the boy, also waving enthusiastically.

"Takeo! Over here!"

Takeo stared at them—and quickly recognized who they were.

His younger brother, Shigeru Kamado.

His younger sister, Hanako Kamado.

Why am I seeing them here?

Takeo was still trying to understand when he suddenly felt someone holding his right hand.

Looking down, he saw a much younger child with a bowl-cut hairstyle grasping his hand tightly, gently pulling him toward a certain direction.

"Brother… this way…"

"Rokuta…"

Takeo recognized him at a glance. It was the youngest child of the Kamado family—Kamado Rokuta.

Looking at them, Takeo didn't remain where he was this time. Instead, he allowed Rokuta to lead him, walking in a single direction through the darkness.

Then Hanako and Shigeru took his hands and sleeves, gently tugging him along with them.

"Where… are you taking me?" Takeo asked in confusion.

Kamado Hanako answered directly, "This isn't a place you're supposed to be. So… we have to send you back!"

"Send… me back?"

"Yes!" Hanako replied. Then she, Kamado Shigeru, and Kamado Rokuta moved behind him.

"Time to go!" they said in unison, pushing against Takeo's back with both hands.

Takeo didn't resist. He let himself be pushed forward, stumbling slightly—and then the darkness vanished.

It was replaced by the familiar consciousness space that belonged to him.

But within that space, he saw a scene that felt both familiar and strange at the same time.

A snow-covered temple.

The temple was empty, with only fallen snow blanketing the ground and a Buddha statue standing quietly in the corner.

Takeo felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu as he gazed at the scene before him. He walked forward, comparing the view with something buried in his memory.

As he stepped into the courtyard, leaving footprints in the snow, he stopped in front of the temple's open gate.

It was dim inside, with no significant source of light—only a few candles flickered faintly, casting a soft glow that kept the darkness at bay.

Within the temple stood a towering Buddha statue, and in front of it, a man sat with his back to Takeo, carving something with great focus.

Takeo narrowed his eyes and soon realized what the man was working on.

He was carving a Buddha statue.

Temples. Snow. Buddha statues. A man carving silently…

All of it matched a certain image from Takeo's memory.

"The Buddha sculptor from Sekiro…?"

Takeo suddenly remembered the game Sekiro, often jokingly referred to as a "blacksmith simulator." In that game, the character who first guided the protagonist and crafted his prosthetic ninja arm was none other than the Buddha sculptor.

So… was the "visitor" in Takeo's consciousness this time a Buddhist sculptor?

No… that didn't feel right…

Takeo walked toward the sculptor who was carving the Buddha statue. The closer he got, the more familiar the man's back appeared to him.

The upright ponytail, the tattered samurai uniform, and the prosthetic ninja arm on his left side—all of it confirmed his identity.

"A wolf…?"

Takeo softly spoke the man's name.

The man paused briefly in his carving, then continued shaping the statue without turning around.

Takeo gathered his courage and stepped closer, glancing at the man's profile to confirm it.

It was exactly as he thought.

This wasn't the Buddha sculptor.

This was the protagonist of Sekiro.

Wolf.

"Why are you…" Takeo began to ask why he was here, but then suddenly recalled the ending of the game—and fell silent.

There are four endings in Sekiro, and the first time Takeo played it, he reached only the first: the Immortal Severance ending.

In that ending, Sekiro loses his master, and with him, his faith. Eventually, he becomes a new Buddha sculptor—waiting quietly for the next reincarnation to begin.

The Wolf standing here was clearly the same one from that ending.

But… in that ending, the Wolf had lost everything—his master, his duty, even his will as a shinobi. How could I inherit anything from him?

Takeo stared at Wolf, about to speak—but before he could finish his sentence, everything in his consciousness suddenly scattered and dissolved before his eyes.

His awareness returned to reality.

_________

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