After that silent night passed, neither Yoriichi nor Michikatsu ever returned to take over the clan.
The two of them simply vanished without a trace, disappearing beneath the heavy feudal sky.
Once she officially took the seat as head of the family, Rin secretly dispatched her best spies to gather information about the Demon Slayer Corps.
However, every effort and expense ended in vain, yielding no results whatsoever.
Just as Yoriichi had said, that demon-hunting organization moved with extreme secrecy in the darkness.
Ordinary humans whose world had never directly touched the terror of demons would never be able to detect their existence.
Of course, even if Rin had managed to find their headquarters, it wouldn’t have changed anything that had already happened.
Besides, both of her older twin brothers had already burned the bridge leading back to this house.
Yoriichi, because of their father’s cruelty, had never tasted even a single sweet memory inside this residence during his childhood, before spending twelve years wandering alone.
Among the three of them, that boy had the weakest attachment to the Tsugikuni clan.
As for her eldest brother…
Rin had always known deep in her heart that Yoriichi was the only anchor holding Michikatsu’s sanity together.
Ever since that cursed day twelve years ago—when Yoriichi had knocked out the sword instructor with god-like speed—every foundation of pride in Michikatsu’s chest had been completely shattered.
From that moment on, Yoriichi’s shadow became the only obsession left in his mind.
To become like Yoriichi, and then surpass Yoriichi.
For twelve full years, an invisible curse called ‘Yoriichi’ had relentlessly eroded and burned the walls of Michikatsu’s soul.
That was the main reason her brother had willingly thrown away the Tsugikuni clan’s throne without hesitation, just so he could follow behind Yoriichi into the Demon Slayer Corps.
Because that was where Yoriichi was.
All of Michikatsu’s madness and life ambitions had been locked there.
“That’s how it is, Mother.”
On a quiet rocky hill on the outskirts of the city, right in the Tsugikuni clan’s ancestral cemetery, Rin knelt devoutly.
Before a gray tombstone engraved with the name of the late Akane, her slender fingers slowly dropped sheet after sheet of paper money into a burning copper brazier.
Flames licked at the paper, sending gray smoke drifting upward into the air.
“I’m sorry… because in the end, I failed to keep both of my brothers here as you asked in your final wish.”
Twelve years had passed cruelly, and now even Michikatsu had walked away from his birthplace.
In this vast clan territory, Rin now truly stood alone with no blood relatives left to lean on.
*And I, under pressure and agreement from the clan elders, am now forced to sit on the highest seat as the leader of the clan.*
Rin formed a bitter smile as she watched the paper ashes scatter in the wind.
The path of fate forced upon her life right now was truly beyond the reach of reason.
*If Father could see my current position from behind his grave, I’m incredibly curious what kind of expression that stubborn face of his would show.*
“But Mother doesn’t need to worry too much about the two brothers,” Rin whispered again, adjusting the three-leaf jade hairpin in her hair.
“I think… being in the same organization and fighting for the same noble goal will slowly erode the wall between them.”
Perhaps by letting them walk side by side under the Demon Slayer Corps’ banner, Rin had indirectly fulfilled the last of her late mother’s hopes.
A gentle mountain breeze rustled through the pine trees, but no voice answered Rin’s quiet monologue.
She stopped speaking, considering her regular report to her mother complete.
After making sure every sheet of paper had been consumed by the flames, Rin stood up.
She calmly descended the hillside path, walking alongside the line of armored guards who had been standing at attention waiting for her.
Upon reaching the city gate, Rin chose not to return immediately to Tenshu Castle.
There was no political reason or hidden meaning behind her decision that afternoon.
She simply… really didn’t want to go back yet.
She didn’t want to lock himself too soon inside that magnificent building called the center of Tsugikuni clan power.
She didn’t know when it started, but that stone castle—along with the entire clan territory—could no longer provide any warmth or spark of happiness for her soul.
Every time Rin stepped into the corridors of her room, all she felt was crushing suffocation and a fog of sadness that choked her throat.
In the past, at least she still had Michikatsu sharing the same burden of suffering beside her.
But now, even her eldest brother had chosen to run away, abandoning his responsibilities and dumping all the clan’s internal chaos onto his little sister’s shoulders.
That man was truly stubborn and selfish.
“One, two, three, four… Haha! I win again! I’m the Shogun!”
“Damn it! Why do you keep winning?!”
“Stop complaining! Hurry up and hand over all your bet wheat grains!”
A burst of cheerful laughter and shouts from small children suddenly cut through Rin’s long reverie.
Hearing such energetic voices, Rin’s footsteps stopped instinctively.
She turned her body and looked toward a narrow alley not far from where she stood.
In the corner of that stone alley, several children in worn kimonos were squatting in a circle, playing noisily without end.
Driven by a strangely unfamiliar curiosity, Rin slowly approached the playing area to peek at what they were fighting over.
It turned out to be an old palace promotion board game.
A simple wooden board game with squares representing official imperial titles, where players moved small chess pieces.
They spun a mini wooden compass to determine whether their piece could move forward, had to stay in place, or had to move backward.
The rules were extremely simple: whoever placed their piece on the Shogun square first was the absolute winner.
Rin froze.
Childhood memories suddenly replayed in her head.
This was one of the board games she used to play most often with Yoriichi and Michikatsu in that cramped room more than a decade ago.
Back then, the one who always ended the game with absolute victory was Yoriichi.
That boy seemed to possess a special magic that always stopped the compass needle exactly on the forward movement area, leaving Rin and Michikatsu’s pieces far behind in a pitiful distance.
Little Rin had thought all those consecutive wins were purely due to the luck of fate.
But after growing up, she realized the real truth: Yoriichi won the game through the god-like ability embedded in his body since birth.
Yoriichi, who could transparently observe the muscle structure and blood flow in his own arm, could very easily control the force impulse in his fingers.
He adjusted the compass needle’s rotation to stop exactly where he wanted.
It wasn’t luck.
That little monster was instinctively cheating using his innate divine talent.
“Hey! Who are you? What are you doing standing there silently?”
The loud, wary voice of one of the boys instantly shattered Rin’s reverie, pulling her awareness back to the narrow alley.
Apparently, her sudden approach and silent standing had been considered extremely strange and suspicious, causing the children to stop their game and stare at Rin with round, inquisitive eyes.
“I’m sorry…”
After regaining control of her body and realizing her presence had disturbed others, Rin quickly offered a short apology.
She turned on her heel, preparing to leave the alley.
But she had only taken one step when the boy holding the wooden compass suddenly called out again.
“Hey, Big Sister! Do you want to play with us too?”
She turned around and looked at the line of small children now blinking at him hopefully, before her gaze fell on the worn wooden board on the ground.
Rin’s lips parted slightly, hesitation flickering across her face for a few seconds, before she finally shook her head slowly in refusal.
“Why does your face look so gloomy? Just say it if you actually want to throw the pieces…”
Completely ignoring Rin’s refusal—or perhaps because children’s pure instincts had caught the loneliness she was hiding—one brave boy stepped forward.
He grabbed Rin’s hand, shoved a rough wooden chess piece into her palm, and grinned widely.
“Looking at your neat and expensive kimono, you must be a rich kid in this city. If you lose to us later, you have to treat us all to dinner!”
“That’s right! I want sweet rice cakes from old man Koizumi at the end of the market! I heard his cakes are the best in the whole city!”
“What low ambition! We should demand a treat at Sato Restaurant at the west gate! Even clan officials often praise the food there… Hehe, I really want to know what food the big shots usually eat!”
“As long as there’s meat to bite, that’s already more than enough for me…”
Feeling the rough texture of the wooden chess piece now in her fingers, Rin stared blankly at the noisy children still arguing among themselves.
Her eyes suddenly lost focus for a moment.
Her adult mind was forcibly pulled back to the moments when she, Yoriichi, and Michikatsu used to sit in a circle discussing their future dreams in that cold, isolated room.
It felt incredibly strange—although those memories came from her childhood in this life, they felt as if they had happened thousands of years ago.
“Alright.”
A warm burst of emotion suddenly touched the corner of Rin’s heart.
He looked intently at the children’s faces, tightened her grip on the wooden piece, and nodded slightly with a genuine smile she rarely showed.
“If all of you manage to defeat my piece, I’ll pay for whatever food you want tonight.”
“Come on, you arrogant rich big sister!”
***
“We lost completely! This is all your fault! If your piece hadn’t kept spinning backward on the minister square, we would’ve crushed her Shogun already!”
“It’s clearly the compass needle that’s broken! How can you blame everything on me!”
“You cheated! Adults like you should know how to lose gracefully and give way to little kids like us…”
“Exactly! Big Sister Rin must have used dirty tricks to win!”
“Don’t spout baseless nonsense.”
Facing the barrage of protests and mass accusations from the children crowding around her, Rin only formed a calm, thin smile.
She lifted her face, brushed off imaginary dust from her silk shoulder guard, and shook her head in a tone mimicking a master swordsman.
“If your skills are still this bad, practice more at home! If your mentality can’t accept defeat gracefully, then never dare to touch a game board again!”
“Wow! Look at that face! She’s so arrogant!”
“One more round! I swear I’ll crush your piece next time!”
“Hmph! Go ahead and bet! Today I’ll make sure naughty brats like you kneel and admit my trick’s superiority!”
Right as Rin rolled up her loose kimono sleeves to her elbows—preparing to give another valuable lesson to the line of naughty children before her—a heavy voice suddenly rang out from behind her back.
“Lady Rin, it is time for you to return to the main residence.”
Hearing that all-too-familiar baritone voice, the cheerful smile that had just bloomed on Rin’s face instantly froze and vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.
“Hey! Who… who are these scary people?”
At the end of the narrow alley, several Tsugikuni clan armored guards stood stiffly in respectful bows.
Judging from the beads of sweat on their foreheads and temples, these soldiers had clearly been scouring every corner of the city since afternoon before finally finding their clan’s supreme leader squatting on the dusty ground, playing a wooden board game with a group of street children.
“Understood.”
Answering in an extremely cold and flat tone, Rin lowered her gaze.
She dropped the handful of wooden pieces from her victory back onto the board.
She slowly stood up, brushing the market dust off her silk clothes, while the expression on her beautiful face hardened once more—flat as a board, cold, and tightly covered by the false mask of the Tsugikuni clan ruler.