...
Moments after the elders' meeting...
Reyoma and Ayaka descended from the clan hall, the tension of the recent events still lingering in the air. Ayaka let out a sigh, her expression a mix of concern and resolve. "You have a long way to go, Reyoma."
Reyoma, looking a bit disappointed in himself, responded, "Mother, I know the clan leader was testing our patience, but I just couldn't stand seeing you falsely accused for something you haven't done."
The mother and son duo interpreted Akihiko's behavior as a test of patience, believing there was no other reason for a valiant leader to act in such a manner, especially during an elders' meeting where the elders desendents had been intentionally summoned.
Reyoma was the only descendant who spoke during the elders' meeting. Takeshi, Ayame, and Sakura remained silent, merely listening. Faced with the overwhelming presence of Clan Leader Akihiko, anyone might choose not to speak and instead hide their presence. To speak up in such circumstances seemed like a test. However, in the face of such overwhelming power, it was easy to mistake a test of courage for a test of patience.
Accusing one's parents in front of their child, regardless of who the accuser is, ignites anger toward the accuser. In this sense, a test of patience seems easier to discern. Sometimes, what people in power think can be interpreted in many ways.
The direction the interpretation takes mostly depends on the interpreter. If the interpreter has never been in the position of the person they are interpreting, it becomes easy to mistake courage for patience. After all, the person in power has more resources than the interpreting party.
The actions of the person in power are often not fully understood by the interpreter, not due to a lack of insight, but because they are unable to see the bigger picture.
Ayaka, for example, would not have connected the elders' meeting to Hakuryoku the Undead. If she had done so, it would have been more suspicious. Ayaka's failure was not due to a lack of intelligence; quite the opposite. It was simply that she lacked the resources and connections that the clan leader possessed, which is quite acceptable.
It is not that Ayaka wasn't smart—she was quite the opposite. It is just that sometimes, reading people in power through the lens of one's own limited power leads to misinterpretation.
Reyoma continued, "I accept that I wasn't as good as Takeshi-san at controlling my anger, and I know I have disappointed you. I apologize." Reyoma stopped walking down the stairs and bowed to his mother, the person he held most dear. He didn't want her to be looked down upon because of him; instead, he wanted to make her proud.
Seeing this, Ayaka patted her son's head, her eyes radiating motherly love despite the slight frown on her brows. "Okay, okay, my good boy. You don't have to bow to me; you're speaking as if we are strangers," she said, her voice gentle. "By the way, you seem quite popular among the girls. Masaru's daughters were staring at you so enthusiastically, waiting for a chance to speak with you." Ayaka teased, hoping to lighten the mood.
Reyoma's expression suddenly shifted from serious to annoyed. "Mother, they are older than me by at least two to three years. And talking to people is very tiring; I would rather avoid doing so."
"Hahaha... So my beloved son doesn't like older girls, then? Who do you like, Aimi?" Ayaka teased, nudging Reyoma with her elbow as they descended.
Reyoma's face flushed at the mention of Aimi's name. "That... no, absolutely not! Never! She is too problematic for me to handle."
"Oh! So that means you have already considered making her your bride," Ayaka said with a mischievous grin.
Hearing his mother say "bride," Reyoma almost stumbled on the stairs. "Mother, please stop it already."
"Hahaha..." Ayaka laughed, thoroughly enjoying the rare sight of her son changing his expression so much. After all, Reyoma only showed this side of him to two people: Ayaka and Aimi. It was a testament to the close bond he shared with his mother.
As they descended, the path to the girls' dormitory became visible. Reyoma turned to his mother. "Are you going to see them again?"
"Yes, there are a lot of my sisters there. It brings me joy to see them once in a while, and it's good to chat with people my age sometimes. If you want, you can go ahead home first," Ayaka replied warmly.
Reyoma stood at the edge of the stairs, looking at the path that led to the girls' dormitory. He watched Ayaka's figure until she faded from view, then turned to head home.
"HEY! Reyoma!"
Subconsciously, Reyoma turned back and saw Ayame and Sakura sprinting down the stairs. Behind them, Masaru was walking down at a slow pace, his fan still covering his face. Masaru smiled slightly. Annoyed, Reyoma turned and started to leave. Even though it was considered rude not to greet them, he was already known as the clan's omen; his reputation was already tarnished.
Ayame and Sakura caught up to him, slightly out of breath. "Reyoma, wait up!" Ayame called out, her voice tinged with concern.
...
Next day..
Climbing Seppuku Mountain was no small feat. From afar, it resembled an island, surrounded by a broad, shimmering moat of water. A single wooden bridge, akin to a flyover, spanned this watery barrier, linking the mainland to the mountain's base. Hakuryoku stepped onto the bridge, the aged planks groaning under his weight, the moonlight painting rippling patterns on the water below.
His destination: the shrine of the goddess Alpame, nestled atop the mountain. The path ahead wound through a labyrinth of ascending caves, each opening a potential portal to the peak. As he approached the first cave mouth, memories of the Hikugiri flooded his mind—the creatures that infested the mountain, their presence a deterrent to most visitors.
The Hikugiri, resembling a blend of centipede and beetle, were small yet formidable. Their chitinous bodies shimmered in shades of deep green and dark blue, equipped with multifaceted eyes and sharp, hooked claws. Hakuryoku knew their habits well: nocturnal and sensitive to moisture, they thrived in the caves where decaying organic matter abounded.
Moving cautiously through the caves, Hakuryoku detected the earthy scent of decay that hung thick in the air—a feast for the Hikugiri. These creatures, with their lethal mandibles and aversion to water, posed little threat to him. His very blood was toxic to them, ensuring any bite would be their last.
Navigating the tunnels required skill and patience. The Hikugiri, with their complex social structures and pheromone-based communication, darted around him in orchestrated movements. Hakuryoku pressed on, undeterred by their defensive postures and occasional skirmishes.
As the ascent grew steeper, Hakuryoku's senses heightened. Every rustle and click echoed through the narrow passages, guiding him deeper into the heart of the mountain. The tunnels twisted and turned, offering fleeting glimpses of the moonlit world outside.
After what seemed like an eternity of winding through the labyrinthine caves, Hakuryoku emerged into a clearing. Before him, bathed in the moon's gentle light, stood the shrine of Alpame—a sanctuary amidst the rugged terrain. It was a moment of triumph, a testament to his resolve and unwavering dedication.
Approaching the shrine, Hakuryoku felt a sense of peace descend upon him. The air hummed with a sacred stillness, and he offered his silent homage to the goddess who watched over them all. His journey up Seppuku Mountain had been perilous, yet he had persevered, now standing before the divine presence of Alpame's...