Master, We're Back

Mount Sagiri.

Moonlight pierced the dense mist, scattering like silver gauze before the wooden house at the foot of the mountain.

Sakontzi Urokodaki stood like a stone statue before the door. Through his red Tengu Mask, his worried eyes could be seen.

With a creak, the wooden door opened, and Makomo emerged with a blanket, approaching her master. She handed him the blanket and gently comforted him.

"Master, the two of them will definitely come back!" she said, looking at his white temples with concern. "You've been standing here all day, go rest!"

Sakontzi Urokodaki raised his rough, large hand and ruffled Makomo's small head, his tone softening considerably.

"Silly girl, your master is fine. I just wanted to look at the moon."

"Whoa!" Sabito's incredulous voice rang out from the mist, tinged with annoyance. "Master, when will you ever speak to me with that much gentleness?"

Upon hearing this, Sakontzi Urokodaki's body trembled, and Makomo's eyes widened. Both of them smiled involuntarily, for two figures had emerged from the mist.

This meant that Sabito and Giyu were both safe and sound, having successfully passed the Final Selection.

"It's good that you're back, good that you're back, good that you're back..." Sakontzi Urokodaki murmured repeatedly, lost in thought, until Sabito and Giyu walked out of the mist and stood before him. Only then did his heart finally settle.

Sabito grinned broadly and said, "Master, the two of us are very strong. You worrying was completely unnecessary."

"Oh, right! We also made some friends!"

"They're all very strong. Especially the one named Tendo Hiruma. He's a disciple of the former Thunder Hashira, do you know him?"

He chattered on, while Giyu remained quiet, nodding frequently.

After a brief chat, Sabito and Giyu's expressions suddenly turned serious. They spread out their bundles with both arms.

"Master, it's not just the two of us who returned. They've returned too!"

Sabito's voice carried a hint of sadness, while Giyu slowly unfurled the layers of cloth covering eleven Disaster Averting Masks.

As the blood-stained masks were revealed before Sakontzi Urokodaki, in that instant, he understood everything.

Trembling, he took the tattered Disaster Averting Masks. The faces and laughter of his disciples flashed through his mind.

"It's good that you're home!"

Sakontzi Urokodaki's voice trembled as he spoke this time, addressing his departed disciples.

Makomo understood immediately and quickly pulled the two simpletons inside. She knew her master needed a moment alone.

Sakontzi Urokodaki carefully rewrapped the masks and then took his sword and headed up the mountain.

A moment later, he was dragging a smoothly cut, unmarked tombstone up Mount Sagiri.

The mist swirled, thick as white ink, yet it couldn't conceal the grief of a teacher.

Sakontzi Urokodaki found a propitious spot, dug a hole, and picked up a mask, carefully carving a name onto it.

Gradually, eleven carved masks were neatly arranged in the pit. He cupped his hands, scooping up soil to fill it.

Before long, a small mound of earth appeared on Mount Sagiri. Sakontzi Urokodaki erected a stone monument.

Engraved on the monument were eleven names, followed by four large characters.

Tomb of Beloved Disciples.

Sakontzi Urokodaki embraced the tombstone, and two streams of tears flowed from beneath the Tengu Mask. The teardrops landed on the fresh earth, creating tiny ripples.

In a daze, eleven youthful figures appeared on the other side of the grave, each with a smile on their faces.

"Goodbye, Master!"

"We're leaving, Master. Take care!"

"Master, it's good that we could go home!"

"Master, it was our own choice. Don't blame yourself!"

"Master..."

Through tear-blurred eyes, Sakontzi Urokodaki saw a beam of light descend from the heavens. His eleven disciples ascended with smiles.

At that moment, he found peace.

From the nearby bushes, the three little water sprites silently watched everything, bidding farewell to their senior disciples as well.

High above, stars twinkled in the sky, but this sky belonged not only to Mount Sagiri, but also to Mount Peach.

Autumn on Mount Peach was a season of abundant harvest. The wild peach trees on the mountain were laden with ripe fruit, each tender, juicy, and fragrant wild peach hanging from the branches, making one's mouth water.

Hiruma walked along a familiar path, picking a peach at random. He wiped it on his clothes and took a bite, the juice bursting out.

"Sigh!"

"If only Shinobu were here. The peaches on Mount Peach are super delicious!"

"What a shame, she can't eat them now!"

Seeing the peaches reminded him of her, and he could only turn his sorrow into appetite, devouring ten pounds of them.

On the distant horizon, bathed in moonlight, a small figure quietly appeared.

It was Jigoro Kuwajima. He had heard "munching" sounds from the peach grove in the middle of the night and, thinking a wild boar had come for the ripe peaches, had grabbed his sword to investigate.

He saw the familiar figure, and the old man had a look of disappointment, as if he couldn't be molded into steel.

Piles of peach pits as tall as small mountains surrounded Hiruma, who was still buried in them, eating greedily.

"Sigh!"

The old man sighed deeply, and the joy of reunion vanished.

"Hiruma, don't you even come inside when you get home?"

"You can sleep with your peaches tonight!"

Hiruma heard him and looked up to see the old man standing there.

He ran over and hugged the old man, who pushed his disciple away with a disgusted look, saying, "Don't rub against me, you're filthy!"

"Huh?" Hiruma looked at his master blankly. When did this old man start caring so much about his image? Something was wrong, nine-tenths, no, ten-tenths wrong.

"Old man, have you made any progress with Granny Shizuko?"

"Get lost!" The old man kicked at Hiruma, but he dodged it easily.

"Yo!" The old man drew out his words. This brat had improved a lot. He seemed to have been working hard. It was as if the sun had risen from the west.

"By the way, why didn't that little girl come along?" The old man walked towards the wooden cabin without looking back, asking.

Hiruma put his hands behind his head and leisurely followed behind, replying:

"Old man, I went to the Final Selection, not a picnic. How could she possibly come along!"

"How was it?"

"Old man, let me tell you, your disciple here was slaughtering them left and right. Those demons were so weak, I took them down one by one. You should have seen how heroic, dashing, and suave your disciple was..."

Before Hiruma could finish bragging, Sakontzi Urokodaki landed a hard flick on his forehead.

"Give it a rest, you're bragging enough for two people!"

"Never underestimate your opponent when holding a sword. Be vigilant and patient, or you'll lose your life!"

Hiruma rubbed the large bump on his head and nodded.

"Are you hungry?" Sakontzi Urokodaki suddenly asked. "Why did you eat so many peaches? Your home is right here!"

"I'm starving!" Hiruma nodded like a pecking chick. "I was just afraid of disturbing your rest, showing my utmost loyalty and filial piety!"

"Change your clothes, you look like a beggar." Sakontzi Urokodaki pointed at the wooden cabin, then walked to the kitchen himself. "Dinner will be ready soon."

No matter how long Hiruma had been away, the old man was still the same old man with a sharp tongue and a kind heart.