Every day, while the others trained, Arata was in charge of food. Because of that, he'd often bring out dishes made with wisteria flowers. Most of the time, they tasted strange—and sometimes even caused stomach aches. Naturally, the other disciples weren't pleased.
It was Sato who stood up and reminded everyone: "Ghosts fear wisteria. Arata does this for our safety. Don't let his efforts go to waste."
Sato always looked out for Arata. Even at night, when going to the bathroom, he'd glance toward the woodshed silently, unlike the others who loudly complained.
Sabito didn't argue—he just smiled quietly.
"Master Sakonji once said that even in a world filled with danger and demons, people like Arata—who keep trying to live no matter what—are the ones keeping it all together. That kind of spirit is amazing."
The disciples inside the hut were laughing and noisy, but deep down, there was a heaviness in their hearts that didn't belong to children their age.
They all knew: one day, they'd either cut down a demon—or be devoured by one.
Still, they couldn't help but admire someone like Arata.
"I really envy Arata," Sabito said.
Makoto nodded.
She knew that every day, Arata would walk up and down the river collecting wisteria flowers, a two-mile round trip, without ever complaining.
Ordinary. Plain. Weak. But also... admirable.
As a black-haired boy slowly emerged from the forest behind them, Sato frowned and walked over.
"Seriously, this guy's always worrying me."
Makoto just smiled and shook her head.
---
Later that night, while everyone was lining up to bathe, Arata stood silently in front of a tree in the courtyard.
This was one of the first training tools Master Sakonji used.
A rope stretched between the tree and the ground, tied to a net full of stones—each one twice Arata's size.
He rolled up his sleeves, eyes focused, arms slightly bent.
Then—
His eyes widened.
He saw it. On his arm—a small bump. A barely noticeable rise where his bicep was starting to form.
He had muscles!
"This... this is definitely from carrying all that firewood! I've grown stronger!"
Arata clenched his fists with excitement. This was his chance.
If he could lift these stones, he'd officially reach the level of a basic disciple!
With a deep breath, he reached out, grabbed the knot of the rope, and untied it.
The result was immediate.
"Uh-oh—!"
The weight yanked him forward like a slingshot. The hundred-jin boulder dropped with a thud, dragging the rope—and Arata—with terrifying force.
"AHHH—!"
Sato burst out of the hut just in time to see Arata being launched.
The boulder hit the ground, tearing up the dirt. Above, tangled in the branches of the tree, Arata clung to the rope with trembling hands, face pale.
"Um… Senior Brother Sato? Can you help me down? I, uh… can't climb trees."
Sato: "..."
Turns out… even with baby biceps, Arata still couldn't beat a hundred-jin boulder.
---
After helping him down, Arata sat on the grass, panting.
Sato reset the rope and stone with a serious expression. After a long silence, he sighed.
"Arata, you don't need to force yourself because of what others say."
"I just wanted to—" Arata began, but Sato was already patting his shoulder.
"No need to explain. I get it."
...Get what?
Before Arata could respond, Sato untied the rope again. With one hand, he gripped it tightly. Muscles tensed. His whole body seemed to vibrate with power as he kept the massive boulder suspended.
"Come on!"
"Huh?"
Arata was stunned.
This gentle, good-looking senior suddenly looked like a warrior.
"I knew it!" Sato said seriously. "You're developing a new type of wisteria cuisine! You must be using the training boulder to cook it somehow! Like when you carried firewood—same logic! Put the flowers under the stone, quick!"
"...What?!"
Arata was speechless.
With a smile like death itself, Sato continued, "Don't forget, Arata! When your dish is ready—let me be the first to try it!"
"…I was just trying to work out."
Sato froze.
Makoto, who had just come outside, couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. She covered her mouth and burst out laughing.
Under the soft moonlight, the mountain was quiet and peaceful.
The row of simple thatched huts glowed with a warm yellow light.
Sato sat on the grass, holding his face as he laughed uncontrollably.
"Hahaha… I can't! Sato, why did you think he needed the training boulder to cook?!"