Yoriichi's Passing

"I'm back." Yuko tilted her head slightly and said somewhat awkwardly.

Yoriichi stood behind the door and smiled. "It's good that you're back."

"Come inside."

He moved aside.

"Mm." Yuko answered distractedly, lowering her head as she walked into the house.

Yoriichi noticed that her mind was elsewhere and asked, "What's wrong? Did something unpleasant happen outside?"

Compared to his youth, the elderly Yoriichi had gained more of the ordinary air of a mortal.

"No... I just haven't been home for too long. I'm a little unused to it." Yuko casually made up an excuse.

Yoriichi smiled. "Is there ever anything you're unused to?"

Yuko pressed her lips together and looked up at Yoriichi.

His fiery red hair had gained many white strands, and wrinkles had begun to appear at the corners of his eyes.

Yoriichi really had grown old.

Yuko felt a heaviness in her heart. She didn't manage to exchange many words with her brother before falling asleep gloomily.

Early the next morning, when Yoriichi came to Yuko's room, he found that she was already gone.

This was probably the worst decision Yuko had ever made.

Perhaps after leaving this time, she would never see Yoriichi again.

In ancient times, fifty was already considered an advanced age. Every additional year of life was a pleasant surprise.

Yet she hadn't stayed by Yoriichi's side to care for him. She had run away instead.

Many more years passed in the blink of an eye.

Yuko wandered this land in a daze.

When she returned to her homeland once more, she had actually come here unconsciously.

How many years had it been?

Ten? Or twenty?

The effects of immortality made it nearly impossible for Yuko to judge time accurately.

Many years had brought countless changes to the city. When Yuko nervously arrived before that familiar door,

her five fingers hovered before it, unable to knock for a long time.

Was Yoriichi... still alive?

Yuko began to regret leaving last time.

Perhaps someone else had already taken over this home.

The instant Yuko withdrew her hand, the door opened from the inside.

She hadn't sensed anyone approaching.

Yuko was startled for a moment and instinctively looked up.

What appeared before her eyes was an elderly man with a head of white hair, his body stooped with age.

Deep wrinkles covered the old man's cheeks, making him look both aged and ugly.

When she saw the familiar markings on the old man's cheek, tears spilled from the corners of Yuko's eyes.

Yoriichi smiled gently. The wrinkles on his face shifted with the smile, though it could hardly be called attractive.

"Welcome back."

Yuko's lips trembled repeatedly before finally forming a single sound.

"I'm sorry..."

She shouldn't have left.

Inside the house, Yuko lowered her head deeply, not daring to face Yoriichi.

Across from her, Yoriichi said gently, "Yuko, you didn't do anything wrong."

"But I haven't come back all these years."

Yoriichi said softly, "I understand your pain."

Yuko instinctively raised her head, tears in her eyes.

Realizing what she had done, she hurriedly lowered her head again.

Yoriichi suddenly took several envelopes from inside his robes and held them out to her.

"What are these?" Yuko asked in confusion as she accepted them.

Yoriichi smiled. "Tanjiki's letters."

After Yuko's encouragement, Yoriichi and Tanjiki had remained in frequent contact ever since.

Yuko opened the first letter. Inside were the greetings of Tanjiki's family to the siblings.

They also asked about her situation.

Her abrupt departure that day had been noticed by the sensitive Tanjiki.

Tanjiki comforted her in the letter.

Most of the remaining envelopes also contained greetings for them, along with hopes that they would visit again.

Judging by how yellowed the envelopes were, it was impossible to tell how many years ago they had been written.

Yuko was moved, but guilt also welled up inside her.

Yoriichi said quietly, "Birth, aging, illness, and death are the natural order of the human world. We should all face them calmly, shouldn't we?"

"But I..."

"Doesn't Yuko still have something left to accomplish?"

Yuko froze for a moment. Defeat Muzan?

Yuko nodded firmly.

Yoriichi smiled and made a rare joke. "Get some rest early. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to test your swordsmanship."

"Good night."

"Good night." Yuko murmured.

Had she returned this time to see her brother off?

There was almost no life force left in Yoriichi's body. He had practically reached the end of his life.

He probably wouldn't live much longer.

She had truly returned at exactly the wrong time.

Yuko thought self-mockingly.

After she fell asleep, Yoriichi, in the other room, inexplicably felt something strange stirring in his heart.

Was it unease?

Or something else?

This strange feeling drove him to leave the house late at night, leaving the town behind.

He went alone to the outskirts.

It was only after reaching the outskirts that Yoriichi finally understood what the strange stirring in his heart was.

It was the unbreakable blood bond between twins.

"This is impossible... Why are you still alive?"

"A swordsman whose markings have appeared is destined not to live past twenty-five."

"Why are you the only one... who has survived until now..."

What Black Death couldn't understand was how, after sixty years, his younger brother—who should have died long ago—had appeared before him once again like a nightmare.

Tears flowed from Yoriichi's eyes. "How tragic, Brother..."

He had actually been pitied by this creature who had once been his younger brother, but was now old and frail?

Black Death's heart, gradually grown indifferent through becoming a demon, stirred once again.

But... he felt no anger at all.

Instead, that address of "Brother" caused a strange wavering within him.

It was an emotion called sadness.

Those were among the few emotional words he had ever heard from his emotionally detached younger brother.

But as long as the other man remained a demon hunter, he had to cut down the intruder in a single stroke—even if that intruder was his younger brother from when he had still been human.

Even if he now had such a fragile, broken appearance.

Just as Black Death was about to draw his sword, Yoriichi drew the Nichirin Blade at his waist first.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense. Yoriichi's aura pressed against Black Death's shoulders almost physically, like a massive boulder.

The stance taken by this old and frail creature was utterly flawless.

"I've come."

It sounded like a declaration of death. Accompanying that aged voice was Yoriichi's speed, pushed to its absolute limit.

He moved so quickly that Black Death barely had time to react.

The next moment.

The strongest among the demons after Demon King Muzan—the Upper Rank One.

A streak of blood sprayed from Black Death's neck.

Why...

Why were you the only one who was always special...

You were a marked swordsman. You had already become so thin that you were little more than skin and bones. Yet the power and speed of your slash were almost no different from those at your peak.

Memories Black Death had long since forgotten resurfaced in his mind.

The jealousy that had been calm for decades began to burn once again.

I hate you. I want so badly to kill you!

Black Death turned around furiously, his distorted face resembling that of a demon.

But at the same time, Black Death understood that he wouldn't have a chance to evade the next strike.

Yoriichi's next slash would certainly take his head.

That intense impatience and frustration seemed ready to crush all of Black Death's internal organs into minced meat.

However...

Yoriichi never managed to deliver the next slash. He simply stood there, leaving this world after his allotted lifespan ran out.