The rain fell lightly on the roof of the Tsugikuni home, now cold and hollow. Yoriichi sat in the center of the room, unmoving, facing the dried blood stains that once marked where Uta had breathed her last. Days had passed, yet he hadn't eaten. The world had dimmed.
The funeral pyre had long turned to ash, but the ache in his chest stayed alive.
"If only I had been faster…"
"If I had stayed home…"
"If I had known…"
Regret dug into him like a blade.
Then came the sound of sandals against wet earth. A familiar presence stepped into the ruined house.
Michikatsu Tsugikuni — Yoriichi's elder brother — stood at the entrance, his expression unreadable under the hood of his traveling cloak. His dark eyes scanned the room, the silence pressing down on him like the storm outside.
"You should have sent word," Michikatsu said, his voice even. "You shouldn't have faced this alone."
Yoriichi didn't look up.
"I wasn't fast enough. I didn't know. I wasn't strong enough."
Michikatsu took a few steps closer, frowning.
"You were always the strongest of us. Even now… even broken, you're stronger."
Yoriichi's eyes slowly rose. "That strength… it was meaningless."
Michikatsu clenched his jaw. "Meaningless? You wield a blade as if it dances with the gods. You discovered something… something beyond human breathing. I saw it even as boys."
There was a pause before he added:
"And yet… you waste it in grief."
Yoriichi's fists tightened. "Uta was my light. That sword… didn't protect her."
Michikatsu's voice cracked for a second, emotion slipping in.
"Then let it protect others."
He looked away, eyes narrowed.
"You think you suffer alone? I've trained every day, pushing my body to ruin, just to reach your level. I've bled trying to become your equal—and still I'm left behind."
Yoriichi looked at his brother, finally seeing the fire that burned behind Michikatsu's calm. It wasn't hatred. It was envy… and something deeper. A longing to matter.
Michikatsu softened just slightly.
"Don't let this destroy you, little brother. Use it. Forge something from the pain."
The rain continued to fall.
Yoriichi didn't answer.
But the seed of resolve had been planted.