You Really Are Dense

Beside the stream.

Kashimo crouched down, cupped some water in both hands, and splashed it onto his face.

Cool water slid down his cheeks and dripped into the stream before him, disturbing the reflected image. Ripples spread in widening circles, then slowly settled, revealing the outlines of two people.

One had cyan hair and white clothes, crouching beside the stream.

The other had black hair and red robes, standing a few steps behind him.

"Are you planning to keep following me forever?"

Kashimo spoke first. He did not turn around, his voice drifting across the water with a hint of resignation.

Fenghua stood where she was, watching his back.

"I told you," she said. "I'll keep following you until you agree to take me in."

The stream burbled on.

Kashimo said nothing.

Three objects lay quietly on the grass nearby. The emerald-green Ruyi Staff, the pitch-black Soul-Devouring Blade, and the Zhanmadao, taller than a person, each gleamed differently in the morning light.

Fenghua took two steps forward and crouched beside the stream. She picked up a fallen leaf, gently set it on the surface, and slowly stirred the water with her finger. The leaf spun, drifting away with the current.

"Speaking of which, I'm curious."

She did not look up, her gaze resting on the ripples she was stirring.

"Wasn't that girl your companion? Why did you leave her there alone?"

Kashimo fell silent for a moment.

He stared at his reflection in the stream, the purple markings on his face wavering in the ripples.

"I only brought her along to fulfill a dead person's last wish."

His tone was flat.

"Now she has power."

He paused.

"She doesn't need me anymore."

Fenghua raised an eyebrow.

It was a slight movement, but Kashimo caught it out of the corner of his eye.

"You really are dense."

Her tone carried something hard to define-not mockery, but more an understanding of "so that's how it is."

Kashimo turned to look at her.

"Why do you say that?"

Fenghua did not answer directly. She held up her right hand and raised one finger.

"First-"

She paused, her red eyes fixed on him.

"That girl clearly relies on you a lot."

Kashimo said nothing.

She raised a second finger.

"Second, how can you be sure you can just leave her behind so easily?"

She tilted her head.

"You stood outside her door for ages before you left."

The stream burbled on.

Kashimo stared at her for two seconds, then slowly adopted a dead-eyed expression.

He too held up his right hand and raised one finger.

"First-"

His tone was flat.

"I don't have much attachment to her. I was just weighing the pros and cons."

He raised a second finger.

"Second, I'm not very good at getting along with people. Her reliance on me-"

He paused.

"Might just be an instinct to cling to someone strong."

He lowered his hand and looked back at the stream. Sunlight filtered through the treetops, dancing across the water in tiny flecks.

"In my eyes, they-you-"

He pointed at Fenghua, then into the distance, before lowering his hand again.

"Are all the same. Just lumps of flesh stitched together."

"Then why did you open the door and let me sleep inside last night, and even heal my injuries?"

Fenghua suddenly leaned closer.

Too close.

Kashimo could even feel her warm breath brushing his face as she spoke. There was a faint fragrance, too-not cosmetics, but something clean that seemed to come naturally from the girl herself.

He froze for an instant.

Then he leaned back, putting a little distance between them.

"...I admire you."

His voice retained its lazy drawl, but his gaze briefly wandered away.

"I admire the way you fight without caring about the consequences."

Fenghua blinked without saying anything.

Kashimo paused, then added another sentence.

"Your strength is pretty lacking, but I like the way you do things."

The scene from last night flashed through his mind: the woman in red robes covered in blood, still forcing herself to expand her domain even after he had beaten her half to death. She had completely disregarded Yingliang standing nearby, completely disregarded the consequences.

When this girl fought...

She was seriously crazy.

Sunlight filtered through the treetops, falling on the stream and their shoulders.

"Forget it. I don't feel like saying anything else."

Kashimo sighed, sounding as though he were trying to convince himself.

He stood up and looked down at Fenghua, who was still crouching beside the stream. The sunlight shone from behind him, casting a faint shadow over his face.

"I'll take you in."

He paused.

"But on one condition...you have to be useful."

Fenghua looked up, a spark lighting her red eyes.

"Tell me what you want to learn." Kashimo folded his arms across his chest. "I'll teach you."

The instant he finished speaking, Fenghua sprang to her feet.

"Really?"

She stood straight, her eyes wide and round, unable to contain the delight on her face.

"Really."

Kashimo nodded.

"You're not lying to me?"

"No."

"Then I'm your disciple now?"

Fenghua edged half a step closer, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Kashimo looked at her and remained silent for two seconds.

"Hmm..." He drew the sound out. "You're still a long way from becoming my disciple."

The smile on Fenghua's face froze for an instant, then she pouted.

"You really are dense."

She muttered the words.

"Then..."

"Then teach me everything you know."

Fenghua tapped her index fingers together.

Kashimo glanced at her, then turned toward the grass where the Cursed Tools lay.

"Sure."

His voice drifted back from ahead, lazy and unhurried.

"Whether you can learn it is up to you."

Fenghua stood where she was, watching the cyan-haired figure in white bend down to pick up the Ruyi Staff and the Soul-Devouring Blade. She watched him lift the blade onto his shoulder, watched the emerald-green staff sway in the morning light.

But what she did not know was...

Kashimo had already worked it all out.

This girl's Cursed Technique, Broken Sky, slashes space itself. In theory, there's nothing she can't cut through. If I really can't beat Mahoraga when the time comes...

Then I'll buy her an opening.

An opening to cut Mahoraga in half at the waist.

After all...

No matter how well Mahoraga can adapt, surely he can't instantly adapt to a slash that targets space itself?

Kashimo shifted the Soul-Devouring Blade on his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

But if he turns into helicopter Mahoraga, I'm seriously screwed.