INTERLUDE: THEREAFTER
April 2009.
“This sword here is called Yatonomori Kaneomi.”
The chief priest of the shrine showed the sword in his hands to a girl sitting by him. It was a long tachi blade contained in an iron scabbard, one of four artificial demonic swords created in the Warring States period by the swordsmith Kaneomi. The man, Keito, then explained it had been entrusted to them by Aoba, the owner of Kogetsudou.
“It’s a real demonic sword, by the way. I’ve heard it talk myself, in fact,” he said.
“R-really?!”
“Oh yeah. You can ask my wife for more information. I’m sure she’d love to tell you all about it.”
Then a cold voice called out, “Dad? What do you think you’re doing?”
It was Keito’s only daughter. She was in high school now and had reached that age when children turned a little rebellious toward their parents. He still thought she was just as cute as her mother, though.
“Oh, welcome home. Your friend came on by, so I just thought I’d show them something interesting.”
“There was no need for that,” she said sternly. “And what kind of girl would care about a sword, anyway?”
It was Sunday. Her friend had come over to play but had gotten the time wrong and arrived while his daughter was out for some business. Keito didn’t want her to be bored while she waited, so he decided to show her the Yatonomori Kaneomi blade Aoba had entrusted to him.
“I think it’s pretty interesting!” the friend said. “He said the sword talks! Can you believe that?”
“Don’t be so gullible. And Dad, don’t tease my friends.”
The friend was a first-year in high school like his daughter, but she looked rather young for her age. It was a little childish of her to believe the sword could talk just like that, but it was, in fact, the truth. The sword did talk.
Or rather, it used to.
Keito’s mind wandered to the distant past. Aoba had entrusted this sword to them, saying she didn’t need it anymore. It had been a nostalgic summer vacation day, and his memory of it was still fresh.
“Oh, but he isn’t teasing her.” Keito’s wife entered then, carrying a tray with some cakes and black tea for the girls.
His wife was a beautiful woman whose long black hair suited her. She was just past her mid-thirties but looked shockingly youthful for her age. They’d first met when he was in high school and she was in elementary school. To say he had fallen for her back then would certainly be criminal, but he did feel as though it had been fate that they ended up together.
“Isn’t that right, Keito-san?” she asked.
“That’s right. But I’m sure you can tell them more about Sword-san than I could, Yayoi.”
“I’d love to. This sword really did used to talk, girls.”
Their fun summer vacation was behind them now, but their time after it ended was dear to them as well.
After that summer vacation, Takamori Keito and Himekawa Yayoi began exchanging letters, spent time together during long breaks, and deepened their bond. Once she became a high schooler, she worked up the courage to confess her feelings to him, and the two started dating.
Keito was a twenty-one-year-old college student at the time and had liked Yayoi himself, but he had hesitated to ask out a girl of high school age and instead got beaten to the punch, which gave Nanao a good laugh.
At any rate, the two dated and were an amicable couple. Talk of marriage eventually came up, but then an issue arose. Yayoi was the only daughter of a shrine that could trace its roots all the way back to the Edo period. Her father was adamantly against her marrying out of the family, but that was fine by Keito. Soon after they started dating, he had left his college and instead immediately applied to another one that would give him Shinto priest qualifications. In other words, he had already started preparing for marriage with her while she was still in high school.
Though most would’ve thought that was jumping the gun, Yayoi’s father was moved by Keito’s devotion and welcomed him into the family as Himekawa Keito. He married Yayoi, the Itsukihime, and became chief priest of the Jinta Shrine.
“Even your mom says it’s true, Miyaka-chan!”
“Really? Then maybe it is…”
Keito and Yayoi had named their daughter Himekawa Miyaka, and her close friend here was Azusaya Kaoru.
“How unexpected. I didn’t think you’d come around, Miyaka,” Keito said.
“Well, they do say the world is full of mystery,” Miyaka said, making a bit of a face for some reason. Meanwhile, Kaoru was in high spirits.
“Right, right! A talking sword is totally possible!”
Keito had assumed the two wouldn’t believe his tall tale, but they had little issue doing just that. He wrongly chalked it up to the fact that young girls liked to dream.
The truth, however, was that the two had already been involved in several incidents that made a talking sword seem ordinary in comparison, but Keito and his wife wouldn’t learn about that until some time later.
“Hey, don’t you think Kadono-kun would like to hear about this?” Kaoru said.
“Would he really? He’d probably say this kind of stuff is just work to him,” replied Miyaka.
As a father, Keito couldn’t overlook what had just been said—there was mention of a boy connected to Miyaka. He leaned in, about to follow up on what she said, when suddenly Yayoi stopped him. “No, dear.”
“But Yayoi! There’s a boy eyeing my girl!”
“Nobody said that. And even if there were, it’s her choice whether or not to stay with him.”
“Yeah… That’s true. Even we had things going on that our parents wouldn’t understand.” He sighed and fixed his posture. Though he really knew without being told that he shouldn’t butt in, he still couldn’t help but worry. Being a father was tough.
Come to think of it, there was a time he believed adults knew everything. But the mysteries in life had only grown in number for him, even after he became a parent. He couldn’t tell what his daughter’s feelings for others were, nor how he should deal with her at this age. The unknowns still far outweighed the knowns, just as they had when he was a kid.
“Right? I’m sure it’s the same way for her.”
“But still…”
“It’ll be fine. She’s our daughter. Let’s trust her to make her own choice about what’s dear to her.”
He saw his wife’s lovely smile and was reminded of the time they first met, one summer vacation long ago. He wondered to himself just how much they had grown since then and came up with an answer immediately: probably very little.
“Yeah, all right. Hey, Yayoi?”
“Yes?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking that I’m glad you’re my wife.”
“And I’m glad you’re my husband.”
But it was all right even if they hadn’t grown. The more unknowns there were in life, the more precious the knowns became.
What he had now was something called happiness. That much he knew.