En no Gyōja

The setting sun cast its lingering glow, and beneath the ginkgo tree, the forest rustled in waves.

After returning to Mount Katsuragi, Hotaru cried for a long time—until exhaustion overcame her and she fell asleep against the old man's chest.

Tear tracks still stained her face, but her brows had relaxed, and the corners of her lips curled faintly upward, as though she were having a pleasant dream.

With one arm around her, the old man picked up the worn blanket draped over the tree roots with the other and covered her with it.

Only then did he slowly raise his head and look toward Yamada Soji. His cloudy eyes seemed to clear somewhat at that moment.

"Yamada Soji?"

"Yes." Sōji stepped forward a few paces.

The old man nodded slightly. "I am En no Gyōja, leader of the Tsuchigumo Clan, and Hotaru's grandfather."

He paused, then said, "Thank you for bringing her back."

Sōji said nothing, merely giving a slight bow.

En no Gyōja looked at him, his gaze lingering briefly on the black cloth covering his eyes before shifting away.

"I know roughly what happened over the past ten days. The people of Sunagakure betrayed their word, and rogue ninja and missing-nin were watching like tigers eyeing prey. You killed many people."

"They deserved to die." Sōji did not deny it.

"If you hadn't killed them, they would have followed you here. With the Tsuchigumo Clan's current strength, we couldn't have stopped so many people."

His tone was calm, as though he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.

"So you stopped them for us. You killed for us. The Tsuchigumo Clan owes you this debt."

Sōji fell silent for a moment. "I didn't do it for a debt of gratitude."

"I know."

En no Gyōja waved his hand, then lowered his head to look at his sleeping granddaughter.

Her hand clutched a corner of his robe tightly, just as she had when she was little.

"This child's parents died early."

His voice was soft, like the sound of ginkgo leaves falling to the ground. "Her mother suffered severe bleeding when she gave birth to her. She couldn't be saved."

"Her father died, and I grew old. So I had no choice but to seal the secret technique inside her. But the people in the village all said that because 'Rage Hair Heaven' was sealed within her, she had brought death upon her parents."

Sōji did not respond.

"I know it wasn't her fault."

En no Gyōja continued, "But the villagers didn't believe it. They feared her, feared what was inside her."

"So I kept her locked in that little house and wouldn't let her go out, saying it was to protect her..."

"But really, I was afraid something would happen to her. Afraid the seal inside her would go wrong. Afraid 'Rage Hair Heaven' would awaken and destroy the entire village."

As he spoke, his fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the blanket. "But I don't regret doing it. And I believe in Hotaru. She will definitely be able to control the secret technique and become a hero who protects the village."

Sōji looked at him but said nothing.

Hotaru was just like a tailed beast Jinchūriki. Though she was an important force meant to protect the village, she still had to bear the strange looks and baseless abuse of others.

What a twisted world. Sōji was filled with emotion.

At that moment, the old man's eyes reddened, but he did not cry. He simply remained silent for a long time.

Long enough for several more ginkgo leaves to fall, their golden blades scattered across his gray robe like tiny medals.

Wind blew up from the valley, making the ginkgo leaves rustle. Several birds flew from the canopy, circled through the air, then settled back down.

After a long while, Yamada Soji spoke first.

"Hotaru is a kind, good girl. Don't ruin her. What she needs isn't confinement, but guidance and education."

"Tell her the truth. Tell her how the seal works. Tell her when she is safe and when she is in danger."

"Old man, you're the person closest to her. You need to let her know that she isn't a bomb that could explode at any moment. She's a living person."

Hearing that, En no Gyōja looked at Sōji and suddenly asked, "You must be one of the Kaguya Clan who defected from Hidden Mist, right?"

Sōji neither confirmed nor denied it. "Now, I'm merely a traveler."

"A traveler..."

En no Gyōja turned those words over in his mind, then suddenly smiled. It was a soft, brief smile, like a sigh squeezed from his throat.

"Very well, traveler! I will consider your advice. Now, let's discuss your reward."

As he spoke, he pulled something from his robes and tossed it toward Sōji.

Sōji caught it. It was a palm-sized pouch, grayish-brown and sewn from coarse burlap, its opening tied shut with hemp cord.

"Inside is the Sealing Technique passed down through generations of the Tsuchigumo Clan."

En no Gyōja explained, "But it is an incomplete scroll. The complete version involves the seal on Rage Hair Heaven, so it cannot be given to you."

A Sealing Technique was certainly useful. Still, Sōji had no plans to delve into that field for now. He could keep it for future consideration—after all, having more methods at his disposal was always a good thing.

"And..."

At this point, En no Gyōja continued, "the Tsuchigumo Clan's Summoning Scroll. But it isn't for combat summons. It's for sending messages."

"I'll give you this contract scroll. You can summon a spider anywhere and have it carry a message anywhere. Likewise, we can summon a spider to find you."

As he spoke, he took a scroll from his robes and handed it to Sōji.

After taking it, Sōji unrolled it. Complex Summoning Technique formulas were drawn across the scroll, with a blank space reserved for a signature.

"These two items are both our thanks and the best that the Tsuchigumo Clan can offer at present."

"That's enough."

With that, Sōji stuffed the pouch and scroll into Ugly Treasure's mouth. En no Gyōja gave Ugly Treasure a curious glance, but did not think much of it. The Shinobi World was vast, and it had no shortage of strange things.

"Where are you going next?"

"The Land of Water."

The old man frowned slightly. "The Land of Water? Kirigakure?"

"Mm."

"It isn't peaceful there. Although the Blood Mist Village has ended, things still lurk in the shadows. You are an outsider now, so be careful when you enter."

Sōji gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment.

En no Gyōja said nothing more. He looked down at Hotaru in his arms, then up at the sky.

The sun had already tilted westward. Light filtered through gaps in the canopy, casting patches of brightness over the plateau.

"It's getting dark. Why not stay the night and leave tomorrow?"

"Then I'll impose on you."

Sōji did not refuse. After all, he truly had no intention of traveling at night.

"It's no trouble. Come with me!"

En no Gyōja rose to his feet. He moved slowly, leaning on his cane and pausing with every step, yet his back remained straight.

Hotaru lay cradled horizontally in his arms, wrapped in the blanket and sleeping deeply.

Sōji followed behind him, passing the ginkgo tree and the old houses scattered across the plateau.

Several villagers peeked out from their courtyards. When they saw Hotaru in En no Gyōja's arms, their expressions became complicated—surprise, hesitation, and something else they could not put into words.

En no Gyōja did not look at them. He walked straight to a house at the deepest end of the plateau and pushed open its door.

"You can stay here. Hotaru's room is next door. If anything happens during the night, you can call for me at any time."

Sōji nodded.

En no Gyōja carried Hotaru into the adjacent room and gently laid her on the bed.

He stood by the bed and looked down at his granddaughter's face for a long time before finally turning to leave.

Sōji called after him. "Old man, I'm leaving early tomorrow. I want to ask you a favor."

"What is it?"

"If one day in the future, a young man from Hidden Mist who can blow bubbles comes to your village, please let me know."

En no Gyōja paused for a moment, then agreed. "All right!"

Watching the old man depart, Sōji turned and returned to his room. Behind him, dusk rose from the valley, dyeing all of Mount Katsuragi a deep purple.

In the last traces of light, the ginkgo leaves glimmered gold like countless tiny lamps.