Seeing Kyojuro standing in front of him, completely unharmed, Takeo responded:

"Ug …Good morning, Kyojuro San."

"It looks like you've recovered very well! I'm relieved to see that."

Kyojuro smiled as he spoke.

It seemed he had come solely to check on Takeo's condition.

After all, Takeo's state on the battlefield that day had been terrifying. Anyone who had witnessed his injuries would've believed there was no way he could survive.

Kyojuro had been silently worried ever since—concerned that Takeo might never wake up.

But now, he could finally put that fear to rest.

Even so, after feeling that relief, Kyojuro still had something else he wanted to ask.

"…Why did you do that?" he asked suddenly.

His voice had softened noticeably. Though still loud by most standards, it no longer carried the forceful energy of a shout.

That change in tone reflected the shift in his emotions.

"What… do you mean?"

For a moment, Takeo didn't understand what Kyojuro was referring to.

Kyojuro said, "You didn't have to take that Upper Rank's attack for me that day."

He was the Flame Hashira. Although he hadn't held the position for very long, he'd still been a Hashira longer than Takeo. While their strengths weren't vastly different, it wasn't as if Kyojuro was clearly weaker either.

What's more—he was still growing.

Upper Rank One's attacks were sharp, swift, and undeniably deadly. If Kyojuro had taken that hit, he likely would have died.

But Kyojuro believed… he could have dodged it.

Even if his reaction had been slightly delayed, he still had a chance to avoid the blow.

Takeo hadn't needed to do what he did.

"…"

Takeo stayed silent.

He turned his head to look out the window, letting the cool breeze of late summer wash over him. After a long exhale, he finally said, "…Because I'd be fine."

It was the truth.

At that moment, Takeo hadn't been sure whether Kyojuro would be able to dodge Kokushibo's attack—and if he didn't, his human body would've been in mortal danger.

By contrast, Takeo's recovery ability was nearly demonic. Even if he was impaled, even if his heart was destroyed or his head smashed, he could survive thanks to his extraordinary regeneration and [Restart].

Of course, he also knew that Kyojuro might have dodged it.

Kyojuro was strong—truly strong.

Though the two had never fought one another seriously, Takeo understood well just how powerful the Flame Hashira was.

Given enough time, Kyojuro might become even stronger.

But Takeo wasn't willing to bet on a "maybe."

If Kyojuro were struck, he might die. If he were struck, he definitely wouldn't.

Between maybe and definitely—the answer, in that moment, had been clear.

"Hmm! So you don't trust me enough!"

Kyojuro's voice grew louder again, as though he had just confirmed something. He raised his voice and declared:

"Takeo, believe in me! Please, from now on—don't do that again! I'm not as weak as you think!"

His confident voice left Takeo momentarily dazed.

But it wasn't the sheer volume or energy that caused it.

It was the memory.

——Believe me, I can definitely hold him back!——Takeo, do you believe me?

Takeo looked at Kyojuro, and for a fleeting moment, another figure seemed to overlap with him.

He opened his mouth slightly, as if to speak… but in the end, no words came out.

After a long pause, he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, turned his head back toward the window, and replied quietly:

"…Yeah. I believe you."

That's what Takeo said.

But whether he truly believed it or not—perhaps only he knew the answer.

Kyojuro looked at Takeo lying in bed. He didn't push the matter any further and simply sat with him in quiet companionship for a while.

Then, as noon approached, he suddenly said:

"Once you've recovered, let's spar!"

"Eh?"

"Hahaha! We haven't fought since you became a Hashira! So once you're back to full strength—let's have a proper match!"

Kyojuro extended the challenge with his usual boldness and clarity.

Takeo wordlessly pulled his left hand from under the blanket and held it up. "…How long do you think this is going to take to heal?"

The Hashira all had important duties. Aside from Pillar Meetings or special situations, they rarely had any free time.

Takeo estimated that it would take at least two or three more days before his hand returned to normal.

He didn't quite understand why his recovery was so slow. Perhaps [Healing Without Injury] didn't register the current state of his hand as a true "injury" or "blood loss." Either way, he'd need time to recover.

Would Kyojuro even still be around by then, still in perfect condition?

It's not like he was Kocho Shinobu, who had to remain at the Butterfly House to oversee the medical ward.

"Mm! Very cute!"

Kyojuro suddenly commented—loudly—on Takeo's baby-sized left hand.

Takeo immediately rolled his eyes and pulled his hand back.

"…That's enough out of you."

"I'll wait for you!" Kyojuro declared proudly. "Ahaha~ The Master gave me a few days of rest! Even though I feel a bit ashamed to rest while my comrades are still out fighting, this is an important matter too! So—I'll make up for the lost time by working even harder afterward!"

"…Is sparring with me really that important?"

"It is! At least for me, it's very important!" Kyojuro answered without hesitation. Then he stood up and said brightly, "Well then—rest well! I'll come visit you again! Goodbye!"

With that, Kyojuro turned and left the ward.

Takeo silently watched the haori on his back, with flames painted in bold strokes.

He didn't say a word.

Perhaps… Kyojuro had already noticed.

Takeo hadn't truly answered whether he believed him or not.

...

Recovery Time

Rehabilitation was… a little dull.

Although Takeo's body had mostly recovered, and his left hand was steadily returning to normal, Shinobu Kocho still strictly forbade him from doing any strenuous activity during this period.

According to her, even though Takeo appeared to have recovered, she still "recommended"—in a tone that left no room for refusal—that he continue to rest, just to be safe.

After all, the injuries he suffered that day were horrifying. No one could reasonably believe that he could be completely fine after such catastrophic damage.

And it seemed that Takeo truly had no choice but to rest.

Both of his Nichirin swords had been damaged in the battle against Kokushibo. While they had remained intact during the fight, holding out until the very end, it wasn't long after Kokushibo left—when the Kakushi arrived to rescue them—that the blades finally broke.

The moment they were picked up, both swords snapped cleanly in the middle.

Kyojuro's situation was similar. Though his blade hadn't shattered, a long crack had formed down its center.

All three swords had now been sent to the swordsmith village for repairs.

Until they were reforged, the two Hashira had no choice but to rest.

No wonder Kyojuro had challenged Takeo to a duel.

With no sword, no missions, and no permission to leave the Butterfly House, Takeo was left with nothing but time—and boredom.

Each day, during his free hours, he would sit cross-legged along the corridor outside the Butterfly House, eyes closed, silently attempting to communicate with the wolf in the nameless temple.

But the wolf never responded.

It simply sat there, continuously carving a Buddha statue—never stopping, never speaking.

Like a machine, performing only one function.

Takeo understood.

The wolf was disheartened—having once slain its own master. And for that, Takeo felt… a faint sense of guilt.

After all, if his guess was correct, both 2B and the Wolf were drawn from his completed game save data…

He didn't feel guilty toward 2B. Her death was scripted—part of the game's story. It had nothing to do with him.

But..

_________

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