CH 7

[Disciple Brother and Disciple Sister]

“Ahh~ so tired. Good grief, I was really worked to the bones by that boy.”

Shoichiro Sanuki, who was done playing and returned to the guild, sat down in the sofa.

The table kicked off by Tōru Sakurai had been replaced with a new one, on it were prepared the usual alcohol and glass.

“Um, Sword Saint-dono?”

“Oh? Why are you guys all looking over here. If you all glare at me so intently, I might squeeze myself in unintentionally y’know?”

“We’re not glaring. Rather than that, who the heck is that youth from the morning?”

“Ah~ about the boy, huh. If I have to say who…”

The surroundings paid attention to Sanuki when asked by the adventurer, who might had been watching the ruckus in the morning.

Sanuki pondered the relationship between himself and the youth while pouring alcohol into the glass. They were acquaintances, but not friends. They were just hanging out because it was mutually beneficial to both himself and the other party.

If he had to express him in a few words, the boy was a ‘convenient guy (to kill time)’, but that sounded bland.

In that case, there weren’t that many words that could express him. All of them were a little out of the essence, but Sanuki chose the one that fit him the most and spoke it.

“He is my disciple y’know, my disciple.”

“Disciple? Is he Higaki-chan’s junior disciple brother?”

“No, he is the senior. Maybe what you called the first disciple thingy? We have a kinda strange relationship. Even though I said he’s my disciple, I just teach him no more than for killing time, the time I’ve spent watching him was much longer than young lady Ao, see.”

“Honestly, I can’t imagine it. The Sword Saint-dono, who kept refusing to take a disciple and finally reluctantly accepted Higaki-chan’s due to her persistence, has first disciple.”

“Even the word ‘disciple’ is not accurate though. Well, my relationship with that boy sure is strange.”

A frown appeared on the humorous face of the adventurer as he laughed and drank alcohol.

(I planned to finish it in a few words, but I ended up talking for very long, it seems that I’m in a good mood. In that case, it would be fun to talk about that boy a little more.)

Thinking so, Sanuki poured alcohol in the glass, and started talking while swirling the glass.

“Have you ever been to a museum?”

“Eh? Well, a couple of times.”

“That place is amazing, isn’t iit? Things depicting ‘oneself’, that was made by pouring a lot of colors and using all techniques one has polished, lined up side by side. Various works with various taste, they sometimes gave you a realization that had you taken by surprise. Honestly, I don’t know painting very well, but I think slighting such ability and value is coarse.”

“H-haah?”

“And so, there’s this one painting. It’s a really weird one. I don’t know if calling it a painting is correct… but this one looked as if it was painted by hitting the white canvas all over with all one’s might without even using a brush, you see~. So? What do you think of it?”

“It’s my personal opinion, but if it’s the only one, I get the impression that it is out of sync from the theme of the entire museum… are you saying that that painting, is that boy?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you quite good at guessing?”

Sanuki’s mood was getting better and better.

A person created a single ‘painting’ of themselves using abundantly colorful colors through various emotions, experiences, and conflicts. No one has the same painting; all have both interesting parts and disappointing parts.

All the people he met throughout his life, whether they were of high-born or low-born, whether good people or wicked people, Sanuki found a certain beauty in them.

“But you see, for some reason, everyone has the same theme. I’m not saying it’s bad, but well, I’m fed up with it, or perhaps should I say… there are some parts that I’m honestly getting tired of.”

That theme was ‘to live’.

However, it was a universal thing that come from the root of each person, it could probably be said that it naturally appeared whether one was willing or not, especially in a world where eat or be eaten was normal like this world.

That’s something that can’t be helped anymore, so there’s no other way.

It was a boy named Sakurai Tōru who appeared when he thought so.

“Among those I know, only that boy drew a painting just ‘to enjoy’. Simply because he didn’t know such thing as arts, techniques, or tacit rules, he threw only one color he wanted on the canvas, and drew the painting with all his limbs fluttering all over.”

“…”

“I was interested in the way it continued to expand without even grasping the direction of what kind of painting he wanted to draw. I wanted to see how it would change if I taught him my technique. And, my heart was beating so fast, unbecoming of my age, wondering what kind of painting it would turn out.”

“That’s again… I’m surprised at how enthusiastic you are.”

“Riight, I’m surprised too. That was why I thought of teaching the basic to him, who continued to draw the painting happily, even if it was only when I feel like it. That’s why he is my first disciple y’know, my first disciple.”

“When you say it that much, Higaki-chan is kinda pitiful.”

“Young lady Ao? Well, she was so noisy next to me, while I was appreciating the ‘first’, so I had no choice but to keep her company. However, it seems that it led to a fire lit under the boy.”

Seeing the figure of Sword Saint talking with no interest, the adventurer pitied Higaki Ao.

How attached she was to the Sword Saint, how she admired and yearned for him. Not a few people know it, and some are impressed with her.

Perhaps her efforts had paid off, as she finally became his disciple, received his training, and went to the academy to become independent. But the adventurer felt a slight antipathy to the Sword Saint who said ‘because she was noisy’ of all things.

However, the appearance of the Sword Saint, who talked about his first disciple happily, was like a child who was proud of his favorite toy, erased his ill will. All that was left behind was sympathy for Higaki Ao who was faced with indifference by the Sword Saint.

(But well, she’s a strong girl. Since she is girl who treads on her path straightforwardly, there’s no need to worry about her, huh.)

The adventurer, who did not know the muddy feelings under the skin of Higaki, was sympathetic but didn’t worried. He re-focused on listening to the Sword Saint’s words, who had no interest in Higaki Ao.

One person after another entered the circle of conversation of the Sword Saint who was unusually talkative. For a while, the topic in the lounge was dominated by the story of the Sword Saint’s first disciple.