“You can do it!” sobbed Mitsuri. “I’ll make you loads of snacks, so get in there and get to work!” She burst into another wail as she hugged Kotetsu and Muichiro tight.
“Okay, here we go,” Kotetsu said solemnly. He inserted the key into the back of the mechanical doll’s head. The automaton readied its swords and stepped forward.
The six katana shot out blindingly fast, one after the other. Muichiro deflected each one in turn. By the time the doll stopped, it was clear that it had regained the sure, flowing movements Muichiro remembered from the Yoriichi Type Zero.
It was the final evening. At the last minute, Kotetsu had finally repaired the automaton to his satisfaction. Mitsuri let out a sigh of relief.
Kotetsu turned to the assembled group and bowed. “That’s all it can do for now. I’ve only managed to recreate one form.”
Mitsuri applauded wildly. “It’s amazing, Kotetsu!”
Kanamori joined the applause. “And imagine, just a few days ago you were stumped. You’ve worked hard to get it functioning again.” He nodded with satisfaction. “It’s just as the chief said.”
“The chief?” Kotetsu frowned. “Master Tecchin?”
“Yes, young Kotetsu,” Kanamori said. “All that talk about abandoning the machine if you couldn’t repair it was a lie.”
“What?!” Kotetsu was stunned.
“A lie?” Mitsuri leapt to her feet. “Are you kidding?”
“Why?” said Kotetsu. “Why would he be so cruel?”
“What’s the meaning of this, Kanamori?” Muichiro’s voice was hard.
“Ah, well.” Kanamori scratched the back of his head apologetically. “You see...”
Kotetsu’s a good kid. Smart, dedicated. Levelheaded when it comes to making decisions, and he’s got a keen eye for analysis. But …
“The chief thinks you need to push yourself more,” Kanamori explained.
The boy sets limits on himself, and that’s no good. He doesn’t know his own potential.
“So to give Kotetsu a push, he set up a fake deadline?” Muichiro asked.
“More or less.” Kanamori’s mask bobbed. “The chief felt if he put Kotetsu’s feet to the flames, so to speak, he’d surprise himself. I was sent to keep an eye on his progress.”
It took Kotetsu a moment to digest this. The village chief was personally concerned about his growth. “That’s what was going on in his head? I had no idea...”
“To be honest, I thought you’d give up,” Kanamori confessed. “I’m sorry. I underestimated you. You’ve done magnificently here.”
“No, you were right. I was whining about how hopeless things were when I’d barely started work. If Tokito hadn’t shown up to help me, I would’ve given up.” He turned to Muichiro. “I’m going to repair the Zero all the way. When I do, please come train with it again.” He bowed deeply, then added, “I’ll fine-tune it and add some forms to hit your weak points.”
Muichiro remembered something Kotetsu had said when he talked about Tanjiro training with the automaton. “Is that what you did before? You tuned it to defeat me?”
“Argh! I’m sorry!” Kotetsu shrank back. “I was so mad at you back then. I’m sorry for calling you a seaweed head, an emotionless jerk, an ugly shrimp, and everything else. I don’t feel that way now!”
Muichiro stared. “Those were all about me?”
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter now.”
Kotetsu took Muichiro’s hands. “You promise? You’ll definitely come back?”
“I will.”
Kotetsu’s hands were hard, crisscrossed with old scars and new blisters. They were the hands of someone who fought to the limit every day. Muichiro’s hands were the same.
“Send me a message when you’ve got all the forms working,” Muichiro said.
“Okay.”
“We can invite Tanjiro and Nezuko and Genya and everybody!” said Mitsuri. “And Kanamori and Master Tecchin! I’ll bring the snacks.”
This was an extremely Mitsuri sort of idea. Her endless cheer, even in the midst of battle, gave strength to those around her.
“And the rest of Tanjiro’s friends too?” she added. “I’m sure they’d love it.”
Imagining this get-together, Muichiro found himself smiling. The others looked shocked by his expression.
He didn’t know when they would meet again. He’d made a fragile promise, with no guarantee, in the midst of a war against powerful demons. But it sparked a small, gentle light in his heart.
“It’s a promise, Tokito!” Kotetsu said. He continued waving until Muichiro and Mitsuri passed far out of view.
“Tokito?” Himejima asked.
Muichiro said nothing. He gazed at the sky.
“Are you all right?”
Returning from his memory of the swordsmith village, Muichiro looked over at Himejima. “I’m all right,” he replied. It was a response not only to what he had just been asked, but to the Stone Hashira’s earlier question.
Himejima’s colorless eyes stared at him intently.
“Really. I’m not empty anymore.”
He had friends to fight alongside him. He had a master worth risking his life to protect. His brother hadn’t shunned him; he’d loved him until the moment of his death. He’d told him that the “m” in Muichiro was for “mugen”—infinity.
No. That wasn’t quite right.
Now he understood that he’d never really been empty. He just hadn’t been able to see how full his life was.
Let’s fight together as Hashira! The warmth of the Flame Hashira’s hand hitting his shoulder.
Who will understand you? When I see the sword you used, I shed tears.
The kindness of the old swordsmith who worried about his well-being.
Muichiro wished he’d noticed these things sooner.
“Thank you, Himejima,” he said, with real feeling. In his heart, he bowed to Rengoku and Tetsuido, and to all the other people who had given him their love.
Perhaps he sensed the emotion in Muichiro’s voice, because Himejima abruptly smiled. “Forget it. I don’t think I need to worry after all.”
“All right.” Muichiro stood up. “See you at the next Hashira meeting.”
“Mm. Be in good health.”
Muichiro bowed his head and left the gazebo. Narrowing his eyes at the wind that swirled around him, he looked up to the heavens. Clouds streamed by. The glimpses of sky between them were so blue they almost hurt his eyes.
Look at that, Yuichiro. Muichiro sent a silent prayer to his brother, who had left the world so young. Behind Yuichiro’s sharp tongue and cold gaze, there had been love, and the resolve to keep Muichiro safe. His brother had lived his short life fully.
Muichiro didn’t know what the next day would bring. He might lose his life hunting demons. Even if he was fortunate enough to evade their fangs, he’d be gone by twenty-five.
Somehow, though, he wasn’t afraid. As long as he lived in a way that would make his friends and family proud, when he got to the other side Yuichiro would greet him with a smile. “You did good, Muichiro,” he’d say.
Across Muichiro’s face flashed a smile as boundless as the blue sky.