Mitsuri walked slowly up the stone platform, her steps heavy as if dragging chains. Her hands trembled, but she forced herself forward until she stood in front of Yukishiro. For a long while, her head stayed lowered. She hesitated, lips parting and closing, before finally summoning enough courage to look up.
Cold eyes met hers. His gaze pierced straight through her, freezing the words in her throat.
"No."
The single word came sharp and merciless.
"I… I haven't said anything yet," Mitsuri whispered, voice cracking.
"I know what you're going to say," Yukishiro replied, his tone flat, devoid of sympathy.
"The answer's the same. They can't stay here."
Mitsuri's heart sank. She had feared this, but some small part of her had hoped otherwise. She wanted to believe he might spare them, as he had spared her. But she knew Yukishiro—if he truly intended to let them stay, he would have said so when Kimura extended that first invitation.
To him, more people meant more unpredictability, more weakness. He trusted his own strength, not others.
"But they're injured," Mitsuri pleaded softly. "If they leave now, they'll be eaten by Demons for sure."
Yukishiro's eyes narrowed. "Before coming here, didn't everyone prepare for the possibility of being eaten?
This is the Final Selection, not a charity. If I take them in, what happens when two more beg for help? Or ten? Am I supposed to carry the whole mountain on my back?"
His words struck like blows. Mitsuri faltered, unable to find an answer.
"They're already dragging themselves along," Yukishiro continued, his tone unrelenting. "You saw it. When those four Demons surrounded us, they couldn't even lift their blades properly. If not for you pushing them away at the last moment, they'd already be dead. You really want to protect people who don't even dare kill a Demon?"
Mitsuri lowered her head again. Shame washed over her—he was right. She herself had needed protecting more times than she could count, and yet here she was, pleading for others. It felt humiliating.
"If they die outside," Yukishiro said coldly, "it will be because they were too weak. At worst, they'll resent us in their hearts for being cold-blooded. But if they die while under your protection, it will be your responsibility. You'll carry that guilt forever. Can you shoulder that? Can you live with endless regret?"
Her body trembled. The weight of his words sank deep. She had only wanted to help, to spare them from despair. But she had not considered what came after.
Yukishiro's logic left no space for illusions—her kindness could doom them all.
Her lips quivered, but no reply came. She realized that he was right. Keeping Akino and Yuka here would mean binding their fates to hers, and Yukishiro's.
And she was far too weak to bear such a burden.
Her shoulders slumped, resignation settling in. Better to wound them once now than let them die painfully later.
She turned, eyes dim, and walked down the steps of the platform.
Yukishiro watched her go. Something within his chest stirred—unease, perhaps even guilt. He wondered, not for the first time, how such a simple-hearted girl could exist in this cruel world.
Her compassion, though dangerous, was real. He could not let her carry that despair alone.
"Tell them this," he called after her. "We'll escort them to the wisteria forest on the mountainside. That much I'll allow. But if they think they can follow us through the test—forget it."
Mitsuri froze. Slowly, her head lifted.
Relief and joy bloomed on her face like sunlight breaking clouds.
Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it? Sending them down would spare them from death, and yet they wouldn't weigh on Yukishiro's shoulders. It was the perfect compromise.
"Yukishiro, you're amazing!" she said, her voice suddenly bright. "So smart!"
Without waiting for his reply, she dashed down to Akino and Yuka, her eyes shining with hope.
Seeing her expression, the pair assumed the matter had been resolved in their favor. Their faces lit up with gratitude. But as Mitsuri explained Yukishiro's condition—that they could only be escorted down the mountain, not remain—their smiles faltered.
What they truly wanted was not survival, but survival through passing the test. Staying meant protection, meant a chance to endure until dawn.
Yukishiro had seen through them at once.
Still, they had no choice.
Reluctantly, after a night of brutal fighting, Akino and Yuka agreed. To remain without protection was certain death; to descend meant bitter humiliation, but at least it was life. Yuka's eyes welled with tears. She even tried to beg Mitsuri to plead again, but Akino caught her arm and shook his head firmly.
"No. Enough. With our strength, we'd only hold them back."
His voice was quiet but resolute. Yuka's heart clenched, but she knew he was right. The Demons on this mountain were far too strong.
Even Yukishiro, with all his cold skill, would be overwhelmed if surrounded. Adding their weakness to his burdens would only spell disaster.
The fact that Yukishiro had agreed to escort them down was already more than they deserved.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. After the carnage of the first half, no more Demons appeared. Occasionally, distant screams echoed through the woods—brief, chilling reminders of others' suffering—but they faded quickly into silence.
Dawn crept in slowly. The bloody scent of the forest grew heavier with the damp morning air.
Yukishiro opened his eyes from meditation, exhaling a frosty breath. Even in this hostile place, he had honed his Full Concentration: Constant.
His control deepened, as if danger sharpened him into something keener, harder.
Meanwhile, Mitsuri and Yuka had talked quietly through the night, their bond strengthening. They were sisters now, in spirit if not in blood. But as the pale light of morning spread, they both knew the time had come to part.
The small group walked together toward the mountainside—the two girls hand in hand, Akino behind them, and Yukishiro bringing up the rear.
Along the path, a deep drag mark scarred the earth, vanishing into the forest shadows. It was not difficult to imagine what had happened there the night before. Mitsuri shuddered faintly, recalling the scream she had first heard. There had been three male candidates here then. They had thought safety lay in numbers. They had been wrong.
At the edge of the wisteria's protective line, Yukishiro halted.
"Here," he said curtly. "This is safe. No Demons will pass the flowers."
Mitsuri nodded, though her grip on Yuka's hand lingered like that of a lover reluctant to part. "Be careful, okay? I'll be waiting for you at the foot of the mountain."
Yuka squeezed her hand tightly before finally letting go.
The farewell hung heavy in the air.
As Yukishiro turned to leave, his gaze flickered to Akino and Yuka's backpacks. He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed. Then, without a word, he walked away down the opposite path—toward where Kimura's team had gone.
Mitsuri hurried after him, glancing back once to wave.
Akino watched the two disappear. His chest felt heavy. "Did he notice?"
Yuka's lips pressed thin. "I think so. That boy sees too much. He's cautious… intelligent. Mitsuri is lucky to have him."
"You've really decided, haven't you?" Akino asked.
Yuka nodded. "I did before coming here.
My family was slaughtered by Demons. As long as I live, I'll keep fighting for them."
Akino smiled faintly. "Then I'll stay with you."
Back on the trail, Mitsuri caught up with Yukishiro. She tilted her head, her smile sheepish yet earnest. "Thank you, Yukishiro."
His cold eyes slid to her. "Thank me? For saving them?" He scoffed, a sharp exhale of disdain. "Don't bother. Just don't drag me down. That will be thanks enough."
Mitsuri only giggled, sticking out her tongue playfully. She knew his harshness masked something deeper. Beneath his cold exterior, he had chosen mercy. That was enough for her.