𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂 | 𝙺𝙽𝚈 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎!𝙾𝚌

Manga Chapter #136

Tomioka stood motionless, eyes boring into his opponent. With a level head, Tomioka's stance stiffened when his opponent changed their posture. A sickening grin on their face as they held a firm clasp on the hilt of their wooden blade.

The atmosphere was tense. The wind was quiet, like a low hum a mother sung to sound her children to sleep. Birds were silenced as the wind no longer carried their lovely tune to mother natures awaiting ears.

Tomioka had a casual grasp on his wooden blade, unwavering and seemingly rather bored. The Wind Hashira grit his teeth, a darkening aura looming over his face as veins sprung from the bottom of his neck.

"First Form, Breath of Wind; Deer Skinning Cyclone."

The words were slower than the actual attack from Sanemi. Tomioka raised his wooden blade over his head, able to withstand the pressure from the brazen form.

While Tomioka's face was stone cold, he had a tense hold on his blades handle as chippings began to fly off from his wooden sword. In a fast blur of attacks, dodges, breathing forms, and unintelligible screaming, Sanemi growled.

"ORAORAA!! What's wrong?!" He screamed out with a crazed smile on his face, "You're no different from the rest of us!!"

Finally, as the tornado of wind and water began to gain speed and temperature, the wooden swords snapped in half. This action caused the sword fighting to come to an anticlimactic end.

Sanemi glanced down at the fragments of what was left of their blades, he then drew his eyes up at Tomioka, chuckling lowly, "Okay, time to pummel each other to death with fists!"

"Ah, Shinazugawa-San." A firm tone erupted from the darkness of the veranda, "How is training going for you? Are you eating well?"

Sanemi's rough exterior faltered for a moment, and he hesitated on screaming the angry words he wanted to earlier. Miyake was wearing his uniform, his hair was down in it's usual wavy fashion.

That's the thing. Miyake hadn't changed a thing about himself, but every time Sanemi interacted with Miyake, it was like meeting him all over again.

It had been a month or so since the two had spoken. Most of the time, Miyake would drop by and leave food for the other Hashiras, giving the carefully wrapped boxes to the Kakushi overseeing the injured slayers.

Sanemi's lips were glued shut, his eyes wide and trained on the man who was slowly approaching him every passing second. Tomioka wasn't fond of the way Sanemi seemed to get so lost every time he saw Miyake.

Miyake hummed, offering Sanemi a small bento box with a slight bow of the head, "I've made lunch for you, there's plenty more if you need it. Plus, I know Ohagi is your favorite. Please, accept this."

Sanemi, for the first time, finally looked away from Miyake and glanced at the box in his gentle hands. Sanemi shakily brought his hands up, gratefully taking the box from Miyake.

Sanemi knew Miyake's hands were going to be strong and graceful, but he was still rather surprised, "Oh, thank you... I guess."

"No need to thank me," Miyake offered the rather still-shaken Hashira a wave of his hand, "just keep training hard."

Miyake leaned in closer to Sanemi, with a calm aura and a graceful expression, "Be sure to visit next time. I will cook for you."

Sanemi glanced at Tomioka, who had a stiff and cold look on his face. Sanemi glared at Tomioka, shoving past Miyake and storming out of the training grounds, holding the box in his hands delicately.

Miyake dusted off his shoulder where Sanemi shoved him with a scoff, "Had to get him to leave somehow, works every time." He smirked.

Then he smiled at Tomioka, "Giyuu-San, are you hungry yet? I made you some Katsudon and kimchi."