Seeing the handsome boy of sixteen or seventeen standing in front of him,
Tanjuro Kamado stopped on his way home.
One glance at the boy's skin and hair told him that only a wealthy household would have the time and money to maintain them that well.
The clothes and haori he wore were also clearly expensive.
But Tanjuro had stopped...
Not because he was stunned by an outfit so out of place in this remote town.
Nor because he was stunned by the boy blocking his path or the strange words coming from his mouth.
It was because, the moment the boy appeared before him,
a pressure had suddenly descended.
It was as though what stood in his way was not a person,
but a towering barrier whose edges and end were nowhere in sight.
The mountain path beneath his feet, which he had walked countless times,
seemed to have been forcibly cut off at the boy's feet.
There were no gaps, no openings. Even the wind seemed to skirt around the boy.
It was a tangible manifestation of presence and imposing power.
Tanjuro knew.
As long as the boy opposite him intended to stop him, there was absolutely no way he could take this road home today.
What a powerful person...
That oppressive presence was stronger than that of anyone Tanjuro had ever met.
The charcoal seller's gaze moved quietly over the boy.
Then the world began shifting toward its familiar transparency.
But the next moment, Tanjuro froze slightly.
Because as he saw through the boy's body, he recognized that unique breathing rhythm.
Was that [Hinokami Kagura]?!
How did this child know the ritual dance passed down in my family?
In the Kamado family,
a special New Year blessing ritual had been passed down for generations, ever since their