The corridor fell quiet again.
The Wind Hashira and the Serpent Hashira said nothing more. Both their swords remained sheathed. Their footsteps retreated a few paces toward the outer courtyard, then stopped.
Kagaya turned around and slowly headed outside, supported by Amane.
The handkerchief in his sleeve had been replaced with a white one, which he held against the corner of his mouth. As he passed Shinazugawa, he made no unnecessary movements. His steps were as steady as if nothing had happened.
The Ubuyashiki family left.
Giyu gave Yaha one last look, took his hand off his sword hilt, and followed them out.
Yaha was the only one left standing in the corridor.
With his face turned toward the far end of the corridor and his hands in his pockets, he stood there for a moment before returning to the ward.
The door was open.
He lay flat on his back on the hospital bed. Two restraint straps had already snapped; he casually tore off the remaining one and tossed it onto the floor.
The smell of medicinal herbs was strong.
The lantern was almost out of oil. Its pool of light shrank against the stone wall, leaving the entire room steeped in a dull yellow gloom.
Yaha closed his eyes.
His body's reconstruction continued to progress. With every increment, a dull ache rose from deep within his bones. It was not intense, but it was constant, as though something were pushing its way out from inside him.
He was used to the sensation. He slowed his breathing and let his cursed energy circulate on its own, not bothering with it.
He fell asleep.
It was halfway through the midnight hour.
Footsteps in the corridor stopped outside the ward.
Shinobu Kocho pushed the door open, then eased it shut without