What Is Passed Down (4)

The days at the Yosogi-ryu dojo pass peacefully.

It has been about a month since I returned to the dojo, and I feel that I am gradually beginning to grow comfortable with the unfamiliar faces.

That is thanks to Shizuki, who was the first to offer to spar with me; Souha, who always treats me with respect at the forge; and the senior disciples who already knew me.

When the head's family and the senior disciples treat me like one of their own and act familiar with me, the other disciples begin to follow suit, albeit with some confusion.

It is not quite the usual pattern, but it is a fairly common sight when someone returns to a Yosogi-ryu dojo after a long absence.

Once things had settled down and everyone had grown more comfortable, I realized there was one problem child—not among the disciples, but among Kaeha's great-grandchildren, or more specifically, Shizuki's grandchildren.

It was not Kairi, Souha's eldest son, who had openly displayed hostility toward me from the beginning... but Aiha, the youngest member of the head's family.

Unlike Kairi, she had taken to me immediately, coming to ask about my travels the very day after we met...

She was more than a little rambunctious—inquisitive, fearless, and exceedingly reckless.

For example, even now, as I walk along lost in thought,

"Eisa!"

With that cry, Aiha comes down on top of my head.

In a dynamic leap from the roof of a building.

Of course, I am fairly sensitive to the presence of others, and more importantly, the spirits around me tell me all sorts of things, so I had noticed her presence.

I immediately thrust out both hands and catch her as she falls.

"Hey, I told you the day before yesterday to stop jumping off roofs because it's dangerous, didn't I?"

I set down the girl, delighted at being caught, and give her a scolding.

I could detect her beforehand and catch her because of who I am, but with someone else, it could be dangerous.

There was no guarantee that Aiha—or the person she landed on—wouldn't get hurt.

"Yeah, but while Eisa's here, I'll only do it to you, Eisa, so it's fine!"

But my lecture rolls right off her, and she says that with a completely carefree look on her face.

I have no idea what is supposed to be fine about it, but I do understand that she has no intention of changing her ways for now.

Good grief, a troublesome child has taken a liking to me.

The trouble is probably that I can't bring myself to scold Aiha very harshly.

Of course, I'm happy that she likes me.

It's just that her reckless nature worries me a little.

...Aiha's lack of imagination when it comes to danger is probably due to how narrow her world is.

Raised as the youngest person in the dojo's small world and in the special position of a member of the head's family, she was protected by everyone around her.

That made it difficult for her to imagine herself getting hurt.

On top of that, being born into the dojo had given her confidence in her own ability, which only made matters worse.

Or perhaps she was simply too accustomed to injuries to fear them enough.

Naturally, the adults scold her when she does something dangerous, but a dojo is an unusual environment.

The adults get bruised in training, and sometimes bleed or even break bones.

Their words may not reach a child who cannot tell one kind of danger from another.

Come to think of it, Aiha's great-grandmother Kaeha had something similar about her.

When I met Kaeha, she was in the midst of great hardship. Even so, she had been sheltered and treated like a precious princess when she was young, and I think that sometimes showed in a recklessness—or a skewed sense of what was normal—that stemmed from it.

For instance, she had me move into her home without a second thought shortly after we met.

Of course, that may also have been a sign of how openhearted she was...

Ah. So that's why.

So even as I worry about Aiha's recklessness, I don't want to restrict her spirit either, which is probably why I can't bring myself to scold her too harshly.

The ideal solution would be for Aiha to broaden her world, learn about the dangers filling it, and become capable of imagining the dangers that might threaten her—while also honing her own strength enough to deal with them.

If possible, I wanted to watch over her during my stay at the dojo, so she could reach that point.

Because I was worried about her, after all.

"Eisa! Hey, tell me about Jizo."

Once I set her down, Aiha tugs at the hem of my clothes and begs.

She often begged me to tell her about my travels, but her favorite story was about Jizo, a human I met in the Koko Empire.

Ah, no. More precisely, perhaps what fascinated Aiha was Jizo's way of life and the very idea of the knight-errant.

With her fearless recklessness, swordsmanship that, though still immature, was impressive for her age, and the goodness she was born with—or perhaps received from those around her... yes, she might truly be suited to the life of a knight-errant.

But this is not the Koko Empire. It is the Kingdom of Rudoria.

That way of life would not work here exactly as it did there...

Would becoming an adventurer here be the closest equivalent to the way of life of a knight-errant in the Koko Empire?

Even so, I never refused when she asked me to tell it.

I hoped my stories might broaden Aiha's world—and besides, telling stories about a friend was fun.

As I tell the story with plenty of gestures, she listens happily.

"Hey, Eisa. I want to try wielding a sword for justice, to help the weak!"

After hearing Jizo's story, Aiha says this.

The innocent, virtuous words of a child who still knows nothing of the world.

I smile wryly despite myself,

"To do that, you'll need to get a lot stronger first. As you are now, you still can't beat bad people—or monsters."

I decided to discuss it with Shizuki and Touki—her grandfather and father.

Aiha looks a little dissatisfied with my answer, but I take her hand and invite her to sword practice.

To show her just how much she still had to learn.