All three of them had breakfast plates in front of them. The meal consisted of eggs, sausages, toast, and pancakes, each cooked so beautifully and to perfection that one might think a professional chef had prepared the dishes.
Viora gazed at her plate in surprise, a warm smile spreading across her face.
"Wow, did you make these, Gwishin?!" she exclaimed. "They look amazing! What's the occasion?"
Gwishin shook her head while placing the forks and spoons around the three plates. She spoke with a gentle smile:
"Even though I insisted on making it, Cyrus insisted on making it himself. He's a better cook than me, so it was for the best."
Cyrus, who placed three glasses of milk on the table, then said in his usual low, nonchalant tone:
"I'm not that much better than you, Gwishin. You give me too much credit. But as for the occasion..."
His face softened into a gentle smile as he looked at both Gwishin and Viora.
"Well, there are multiple occasions, in fact. It's because I got to reunite with an old friend after four years... also because of Viora's success at taking her first step toward Mushin... and also because of my official friendship with you, Viora."
Gwishin bowed her head slightly, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks.
"I am also happy to be reunited with you—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Viora screamed in an excited tone:
"I was able to make the first step of Mushin?! I thought I just passed out before performing it!"
Cyrus sighed in annoyance, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, you were able to dodge while your mind was in a state of no mind... and you were even about to counterattack. But you passed out before landing it, so don't get ahead of yourself. You probably can't replicate what you did instantly."
He turned his head away, his voice lowering slightly.
"But it's still something to celebrate."
Gwishin nodded, her gentle smile returning.
"I am very proud of you, Viora. Even for a moment, most people can't perform Mushin on their first day of learning it. In fact, Mushin is a state of mind that only master martial artists can even attempt to achieve. Being able to perform a single dodge while in that state proves that you have potential on the level of the highest geniuses in the martial arts world... you may have more potential than Cyrus himself."
Cyrus sighed again, speaking with slight annoyance:
"Don't say that. You'll have her head go through the roof—she…"
As he was finishing his sentence, he noticed Viora had started crying, tears rolling down her cheeks. Gwishin, who was beside her, placed a hand gently on her shoulder, a worried look in her eyes.
"Viora... what's wrong?"
Cyrus watched her cry, feeling lost. He didn't know what to do when someone else cried. Though he was smarter and more mature than most fourteen-year-olds, he had never had many friends—except for the late Liliana. Even with Gwishin, he wasn't sure if he considered her a friend back then. And now, Viora was his third friend. He struggled with his own feelings, so dealing with others' emotions was even harder. One thought crossed his mind as his eyes softened:
Why am I such a stranger to other people's feelings? Aren't I supposed to be a shaman? So why am I so disconnected from others?
Viora wiped her tears, smiling through her blush. She raised her head and waved one hand to reassure her friends.
"It's nothing. It's just... it's been a long time since I've sat around a table with people I genuinely care about. I used to eat a lot of breakfasts like this with Mama Ipoh... Thank you, Cyrus. Gwishin, thank you for being such wonderful friends. Thank you..."
She repeated her thanks while crying and wiping her tears over and over again, her smile never fading. Watching the scene, Cyrus's eyes grew even softer as he thought:
That's right. She also knows the cursed loneliness. When our memories connected, all I felt was loneliness and pain.
He sighed, walking around the table as Gwishin kept her hand on Viora's shoulder. Cyrus placed both arms around Gwishin and Viora, pulling them into a gentle embrace. Gwishin responded by wrapping her arms around her two friends as well.
Cyrus spoke with a gentle smile, his voice soft.
"If that's the case, then if you stay for the night in the future... we can make breakfast like this together. As friends."
As he said those words, a melancholic thought crossed his mind:
Perhaps I would have wanted to hear those words four years ago... Loneliness is the most terrible curse to have. I know it all too well.
Gwishin, still smiling gently, tightened her embrace.
"We may have only known each other for two days, but it feels like I've known you both my whole life. I'm glad we became friends, Viora!"
Viora raised her head once more, a gentle smile on her face.
"Sorry for this... I'm quite a sensitive person. So silly... Well, shouldn't we start eating?"
Both Cyrus and Gwishin nodded, their voices in unison.
"Sure."
***
Tatsunosuke awoke by the riverbank, the gentle sound of flowing water easing his disoriented mind. The soft murmur of the current seemed to wash away the lingering remnants of his unconsciousness. He blinked against the sunlight filtering through the trees, only to freeze as his gaze settled on a figure seated nearby.
A man sat cross-legged by the river, draped in a black kimono embroidered with the striking red of spider lilies — flowers of farewell, of rebirth. His kasa hat cast a shadow over his face, obscuring his features. Yet Tatsunosuke didn't need to see them to know who he was.
The man tilted his head slightly, revealing his face — calm, unreadable, and undeniably familiar.
It was him.
The same man who had effortlessly defeated him. The same man who had knocked him out without breaking a sweat.
Tatsunosuke's muscles tensed instinctively, but the man's voice cut through the tension, low and steady like the river itself.
"Since you weren't fully conscious when I asked you before," the man said, "I'll ask you again."
He leaned forward, his gaze piercing beneath the brim of his hat.
"Umeboshi Tatsunosuke... if you wish to reach satori — true awakening — then follow the river."
The man gestured to the water, its surface shimmering under the sun. His tone carried the weight of something ancient, something inevitable.
"Follow it... and see where it leads."
chapter sixty-three end