Chapter 319
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Chapter 319: An Old Friend’s Delay of Twenty Years
Bai Wei stepped once again into the depths of the Underworld.
But this time, the scenery was entirely different.
Within the labyrinth of shadows lay an awe-inspiring sight: flowers in full bloom. These peculiar blossoms thrived in the poisonous air of the Underworld, their vibrant hues intensifying with the toxicity of the atmosphere.
Bai Wei followed the trail of flowers, venturing deeper into the unknown.
The Underworld labyrinth was as perplexing as ever, but each bloom served as a guiding beacon. With every step, Bai Wei could sense the immense effort Rokuro Shimura had poured into navigating this place.
Unlike Bai Wei, Rokuro lacked both mystery and spatial awareness. Bai Wei could memorize every turn after a single pass, but Rokuro Shimura was just an ordinary man.
He delved into the labyrinth repeatedly, enduring its corrosive effects and his own diminishing clarity of mind.
Perhaps Rokuro knew his efforts were futile—this maze was no ordinary one. The very fabric of space warped daily, creating an ever-shifting terrain.
So, he left marks.
For five years, Rokuro Shimura mapped this treacherous world. For fifteen more years, he planted flowers in the toxic fog, meticulously marking his journey. Each flower was a testament to his persistence, proof of the places he had dared to tread.
But the labyrinth was vast, and each return trip demanded a greater toll. Like a man scaling an infinite tower, Rokuro’s spirit frayed with time. His thoughts scattered, his mind dulled, yet his determination remained unshaken.
Until half a year ago, when Rokuro Shimura’s body and will could no longer endure. Still, he clung to the hope of planting more flowers.
Why?
Because his daughter was here.
Few would dare venture into the labyrinth of the Underworld, let alone try to master it. But a father could.
Bai Wei walked for half an hour, intentionally slowing his pace. He reached the farthest point of Rokuro Shimura’s journey—a place where the flowers ceased to bloom.
This was as far as Rokuro Shimura had come six months prior.
Bai Wei took fifty more steps and found her.
Hitomi Shimura lay still, her eyes closed as if merely sleeping.
Twenty years had passed, but her body, preserved by the toxic air, remained unspoiled.
“Fifty steps,” Bai Wei murmured. “Just fifty steps.”
Fate’s cruel mockery was palpable. Rokuro Shimura had come so close, but the toll of his journey had rendered him unable to take those final steps.
Bai Wei lifted Hitomi Shimura into his arms, intending to take her back.
Even imperfect stories deserve an ending.
The old man sat on the doorstep, a withered flowerpot in his hands. His vacant gaze was fixed on the fiery clouds in the sky.
Few knew what he had been striving for over the past two decades.
A figure in white emerged in the distance, stepping through the fading sunlight.
“Luckily, I made it in time,” the young man said.
He wasn’t too late—not entirely.
Bai Wei clenched his fingers, invoking an “Exorcism” spell. But the spell was not for Hitomi Shimura, whose soul had already ascended. Instead, it was for Rokuro Shimura, whose stubborn will had kept him clinging to life.
The old man’s eyes flickered with a final spark of vitality. Slowly, he stood up, muttering to himself, “Flowers… I must plant more flowers… Hitomi…”
Then his gaze lifted.
He saw her.
Rokuro Shimura reached out with trembling hands, wrapping his arms around his daughter as he sank to his knees.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “I couldn’t come to take you home…”
His cries were raw, wrenching, and filled with the grief of twenty lost years.
When his tears finally subsided, Rokuro Shimura turned to Bai Wei.
“Thank you,” he said, bowing deeply. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t bow to me,” Bai Wei replied. “It was your flowers that led me here. I should be the one apologizing. I’m twenty years too late.”
Rokuro Shimura offered a faint, self-deprecating smile.
“Do you have any final wishes?” Bai Wei asked.
“Please…” Rokuro Shimura hesitated. “Don’t cremate her. Hitomi is afraid of pain.”
“…Alright,” Bai Wei agreed.
With that, Rokuro Shimura collapsed, his face peaceful as he exhaled his final breath.
Together with Bai Wei, Shimura and his two daughters were laid to rest. A simple gravestone marked their place in the world.
Night fell. The crimson moonlight spilled over Bai Wei’s shoulders as he gazed skyward.
“At least now, there’s still room for regret,” he whispered.
At Kamitsumi Shrine, Kuya and Hokusinn Kichyō waited, their eyes turning to the steps as Bai Wei approached under the moonlight.
His presence was overwhelming, his demeanor colder, sharper, more authoritative.
Kuya instinctively lowered her head.
“Are you ready?” Bai Wei asked.
“…Everything is prepared,” Kuya replied, her voice tinged with respect she didn’t fully understand.
“This time, I’m going back alone,” Bai Wei said.
Hokusinn Kichyō started to protest, but Bai Wei silenced her with a single word.
“Listen.”
Blushing, she relented. “Alright.”
As Kuya activated the rift, she hesitated. “What did you do in these few hours?”
“I buried the dead,” Bai Wei replied.
“Your friends?”
“Not quite.”
“But you’re angry,” Kuya noted.
“No,” Bai Wei said, shaking his head. “Not anger. Just… sadness.”
With one final step, Bai Wei entered the rift.
“I shall bury the deceased,” he said, his voice heavy with resolve.
