Night fell, a crescent moon hung on the horizon, casting its cold silver light across the land.
Within the bamboo grove outside the Moriki estate, Shinichi—now dressed in training attire—stared wide-eyed at Elder Moriki across from him.
"What? You want me to sit here holding a pot of weeds and just...space out?" Shinichi pointed at the pot of green grass?—in his right hand.
Elder Moriki spoke with utmost seriousness.
"No, not spacing out. Meditation. The Breath of the Forest originates from the breathing of the woods—or rather, the infinite breath of nature itself. To master the Breath of the Forest, the most essential step is learning to hear nature's voice."
"From the smallest blade of grass to the tallest tree, they too possess life. They too breathe ceaselessly. Quiet your mind in meditation, listen to their breathing, truly merge your own breath with theirs."
Shinichi lips twitched. "That sounds poetic and all, but don't you think sitting around hugging a pot of weeds makes me look ridiculous?"
"These aren't weeds. They're the Awakening Grass passed down through generations of the Moriki family. Very effective. Every Moriki descendant has relied on it to comprehend the Breath of the Forest. Young man, take your time to understand."
"..."
And so, Shinichi found himself sitting foolishly in the bamboo grove, clutching this pot of "Awakening Grass," his crimson eyes fixed intently on the green blades.
One hour passed. Shinichi felt nothing.
Two hours passed. Still nothing.
Three hours in, Shinichi felt his gums itch, his fangs unconsciously elongating.
After four hours, he was convinced he'd been tricked.
Anger simmered—he wanted to teach that old geezer a lesson.
By the fifth hour, Ryukawa Chinatsu arrived bearing a large plate of dorayaki loaded with lethal amounts of sweeteners and a pot of wisteria tea.
The treats slightly mollified Shinichi resentment toward Elder Moriki.
A full day passed with Shinichi holding that pot of 'Awakening Grass', gaining absolutely nothing.
*****
Time flowed steadily.
Six days later, Shinichi remained seated in the bamboo grove, still hugging his pot of "Awakening Grass" with vacant-eyed.
Though by now, the grass had been replaced twice—whenever the previous batch wilted, Elder Moriki would lead him to the family farm for fresh sprouts.
Yet when Shinichi saw the "Awakening Grass" growing wild across the estate backyard, his gums itched again.
What difference was there between these so-called Awakening grasses and common weeds?! They're literally just growing in your yard!
Deep into the seventh night, under that same cold moonlight, amidst the silver-lit bamboo forest...
"Even Maru-ni becomes a traitor. Bought off with just a few meals—he's practically fat now! More pig than a real at this point!" Shinichi scowled at the Awakening Grass in his hands, face dark with irritation.
A breeze stirred, causing the green blades to sway gently.
A dewdrop, heralding the approaching dawn, slowly formed on a leaf surface.
"Of course I know you plants breathe too. Nine years of compulsory education in my past life branded that scientific fact into my soul—photosynthesis or whatever you call it. But how does that help me?" Shinichi muttered to the grass in the pot.
"In a world where even Demon exist, what does science matter? I'm just an ordinary person, no genius. Both the power of demons and breathing techniques were merely things from stories and novels to me before. But when they truly became part of my reality, I didn't know how to respond.
Seeking power for revenge isn't wrong. These past few days, I've come to understand that the power of demons and breathing techniques aren't mutually exclusive. What truly bothers me is the mountain of prejudice in people hearts. Even if I master breathing techniques, it won't change my identity. To many, I'll always be an outcast—a demon. Once a demon, forever branded as one."
"Wait... why am I talking to a pot of grass? I must've stayed here too long, my mind corrupted by that old man" Shinichi muttered self-deprecatingly.
Suddenly, a cool sensation spread across his palm.
Looking down, he saw a dewdrop from the Awakening Grass leaf had fallen onto his hand.
As the chill reached his mind, an inexplicable coolness surged through his entire body.
A fleeting emerald glow seemed to pass before his eyes, followed by a strange sensation blooming in his heart.
Everything felt surreal and unbelievable.
With each breath, Shinichi could distinctly sense a different kind of energy—not a scent, but something unique, gentle yet resilient.
"This feeling...?!" Shinichi froze, staring at the Awakening Grass swaying softly in the breeze.
"Was it you? I think... I really heard it. Your breathing."
Far beyond the bamboo grove, by a clear stream under a sturdy willow tree, Elder Moriki—who had been hunched over—slowly straightened his back as a gentle breeze brushed past.
A faint, satisfied smile appeared on his face.
"I knew this child could do it."
The willow countless green tendrils swayed in the wind, as if sharing his joy.
Before dawn broke, Shinichi returned to the sealed room where Elder Moriki was already waiting. Seeing Shinichi enter, the old man smiled and raised a cup of Wisteria Tea.
"Did you hear it?"
Shinichi carefully set down the Awakening Grass.
"Yes. It was incredible... miraculous. They seemed to guide me. I could faintly sense boundless vitality hidden within their breathing."
Elder Moriki set down his teacup, sighing.
"Shinichi, you've surpassed my expectations. You're right—that was the call of Forest Breathing. Within it lies endless, overwhelming vitality."
For the first time, Shinichi found Elder Moriki somewhat agreeable.
"So... will you teach me real breathing techniques and swordsmanship now?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you. Are you truly prepared to train in Forest Breathing? Shinichi, tell me your honest thoughts" Elder Moriki countered.
After a moment of contemplation, Shinichi nodded firmly.
"I am! Please teach me!"
Elder Moriki smile faded, his expression turning solemn as he rose to his feet with great reverence.
He reached for the Nichirin Blade standing upright on the wooden table behind him and drew it from its sheath—the emerald-green Nichirin Blade that had been passed down for a century.
"Forest Breathing has a new successor."