"Sensei."
"Mirai."
"..."
"Have you moved on?"
"..."
"Would you like me to chant for you?"
"Yes please. I'm afraid."
"Put your head in my lap."
"Thus I have heard, at one time the Buddha was staying in the Jeta Grove monastery of Anathapindada's grove at Shravasti, together with a large assembly of twelve hundred and fifty monks, who all were great arhats, well-known to the people..."
"Sensei."
"Yes?"
"I'm cold."
"Come closer to my stomach."
"No, it's still cold."
"Mirai, why are you freezing-Mirai?"
"Why are there worms in your skin?"
worms
pitiful pitiful, worms were growing on them for days already
and it was one of the cruelest winters, too.
all healthy
sometimes kindness eats you alive like that
pitiful pitiful
what a pitiful child.
You good for nothing
I don't like those rough, grabbing hands
why not? a vile form cannot be dirtied further
this is because of your greed, it fills your stomach
It will all spill out one day, huh?
"I'm sorry, I can't warm you."
"It's alright sensei."
"Mirai-"
"It's alright."
"Woah he's looking chipper." The doctor raised his eyebrows as Gyomei turned to vomit into the pan next to his bed.
"Is this good or bad?" Hisaishi turned to the medical professional.
"Vomiting? Not necessarily, means he has nausea. But being conscious is an improvement." He gave the trainer a plastic grin. "Though this means you'll have to get some food into him now. Nothing hard on the stomach, bread, rice and miso soup should do. I'll leave some antibiotics behind. The vomiting might cause residue buildup in his lungs, so we need to make sure he doesn't relapse."
"Should I keep the dem-I mean-the kids away?"
"Pneumonia is usually not contagious. Unless he projectile vomits on them, it's probably ok."
"I see."
The doctor proceeded to pack up his bags. "Well, I'm off. If you need anything else, have your little birdie give me a call."
He left. Hisaishi brought in some rice porridge, pickled radish, and miso soup.
"You heard him, eat up when you stop feeling sick."
"Thank you." The young man wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeve. "Ah-I'm sorry, these are your clothes."
"No, I have plenty for my students."
He turned his head around. "Where are Sayo and Kai? Still in their box?"
"For the tactile ability Sarumei described, I'm surprised you haven't found them yet."
Gyomei then realized what she meant when he felt two warm bodies next to his waist. He lifted the blanket and felt out their heads.
"I had a hell of a night trying to find them. Turns out your little shits were just camping out in this room. Jeez, if they had gotten out of the house it would mean trouble." Hisaishi sighed. "Alright, now what to do with you three. You got any family, kid?"
"No, I...I don't have blood relatives."
"Ah. I assume parents are not in the picture."
"I don't remember what happened to them."
"I could contact headquarters about it these two then. If you got no one, I guess...logical step would be for you to stay with me. But that means, under the rules of my house, you'll either have to help out with cultivation, or..."
"Or what?"
"Well it wouldn't be fair to demand you become a demon slayer."
"You mean like Hebiyama-san?"
"I guess she can count as a sorry excuse for one." The cultivator snorted. "Sarumei's not a demon slayer, she's a ruffian who happens to end their lives. A real demon slayer's mission is to protect the weak. Sarumei's is to snort whatever Blue Spider Lily whatsmacallit every few hours. No, as a demon slayer you'd have to go out and fight the same creatures as your children. And it isn't clean work, you'll have to cut off their heads and be strong enough to do it."
Gyomei lowered his head. "...may I consider my choices?"
"Whenever you're ready. Whatever, just eat your food."
Hisaishi left. Gyomei turned to get a hold on the tray and lifted the food onto his lap. "Are you two hun-" He had turned to Sayo and Kai, but remembered their situation.
"-ah...demons don't eat human food. I suppose I forgot."
He took a small spoonful as the pair contented themselves with rolling around under the comforter, roughhousing as puppies would to train their hunting instinct. What seemed like normal porridge turned out to be foul once it hit his tongue. Perhaps it was soured by that dream, but the instant it was in his mouth he couldn't stomach it.
Spit it out, I need to spit it out.
Despite the revolting mass of starches now clumped inside of his oral orifice, Hisaishi likely would be offended if he spat it out. So he engaged in the herculean task of chewing that thing and forcing it down his esophagus. It eventually slid in a slimey bundle and hopefully would stay down there.
The fever that still burned didn't help either. His head pounded, adding to the sick feeling.
I need to get better. I can't be useless.
This was the first time he had gotten this ill. Even with the responsibility of nine children along with the part-time job of attending funerals, illness never seemed to disable his ability to work. Sure there was the small cough here and there, and perhaps migraines coming and going, but this was the first time he couldn't even get out of bed. It was as if a sledgehammer had come down on all four of his limbs and shattered them. Colloquially speaking, Gyomei felt like shit. And this was the time he had to not feel like shit.
So he forced another spoonful of porridge down, hoping in vain it would help him heal faster.
To become a demon slayer or assist with cultivation...
He wouldn't have minded the latter. Gyomei was blind anyways. That was why those three ran away, wasn't it? How could he protect people if he couldn't even protect his own family? He managed to pin down the demon and kill it, but too late.
Maybe my greatest use is housework and teaching after all.
He felt himself sink again into the fever.
"Why do you want to stay?"
"It's nothing. I just think...it would be the best thing for everyone."
"Are you afraid of the world?"
"No."
"..."
"I just don't know what I could do out there. I just think...I might be most useful cooking and cleaning, chanting prayers...I can't really do anything else."
"My child, it is true you might not be like others. You might need our help navigating the street, and your world is colorless. But you are loving and you persevere for others. It's alright if you want to stay. But, consider it a request from me-don't bind your wings before you try to soar. I sincerely believe you can make something of yourself, if you want to."
"Even a demon hunter? You wouldn't seriously believe that, right?" The boy gently laughed.
"But I do."
Sayo poked at Gyomei's face, concerned. She had noticed the tears running down and salting up the bowl of porridge.
"Hisaishi-san."
"Already walking? Yet again, it has been a few hours." She looked up from her newspaper to find the bedhead propped against her kitchen doorframe. "That means you decided."
Lowering himself to the floor slowly, Gyomei arranged himself into a clumsy dogeza.
"Please. I want to become a demon slayer."
