The man at their head was broad-shouldered and carried himself with the unmistakable authority of a seasoned warrior. His hair was striking—brilliant yellow with fiery red tips, like a mane of flame. His wife at his side carried a baby wrapped snugly against her chest, her crimson eyes soft yet strong. And walking a step ahead was a boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, whose short hair was a bright gold streaked faintly with red. His eyes shone like embers, full of life.
Mitsuri gasped. "The Rengoku family!" She turned to Mamoru, bouncing with excitement. "Come on, I'll introduce you!"
The boy with the fiery hair noticed them and grinned wide, running up boldly. "Hey! Misturi !"
Before Mamoru could answer, Mitsuri puffed her cheeks. "Kyojuro meet my friend Mamoru "
Kyojuro extended his hand to Mamoru and yelled out with passion " I am Kyojuro Rengoku , Nice to meet you !!!!"
"Nice to meet you kyojuro my name is Mamoru"
The two groups noticed each other at the same moment.
"Kanroji!" the flame-haired man greeted warmly. His deep voice boomed like a crackling fire, and when he smiled, it felt as though the very street grew brighter.
At his side, Mitsuri tugged Mamoru forward, her face lighting up. "Mr and Mrs Rengoku! This is Mamoru—he's my friend! He came with his father, Lord Ushimaru , the daimyo of Ringo !"
For a brief moment, Shinjiro Rengoku's fiery brows rose in surprise. He turned to the small boy standing beside Mitsuri. "The son of Ushimaru?"
Mamoru bowed politely.
Shinjiro studied him, then gave a hearty laugh that echoed like a log bursting in flame. "Well then! Fate has blessed me today. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Shinjiro Rengoku , I am in charge of the Samurai that protect the shogun."
Mamoru's eyes widened in awe. "So you're… the strongest samurai in all of Wano?"
Shinjiro's laughter rang out again, his broad shoulders shaking. "Hah! If only life were that simple. No, I wouldn't call myself the greatest—though I stand among the finest. Strength you'll learn, wears many faces."
Mamoru's admiration only deepened. "It's an admirable position, sir. I'll grow to be strong too, just like you!"
Shinjiro's wife gave a gentle chuckle, rocking the baby in her arms. "Ambition suits you, young Mamoru , i can tell that you will make a great leader one day."
Beside them, the flame-haired boy stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with the same unquenchable spirit as his father's.
"I'll be a great Samurai like my father!!"he declared, voice booming with vigor far too great for his small frame.
Mamoru blinked , the klboy kyujuro had already introduced himself earlier , then grinned, almost infected by the sheer force of the boy's energy. "I'm sure you will , lets be friends"
"Friends!" Kyojuro boomed, nodding firmly. "Yes! Let's share food, laughter, and adventure! Mitsuri, you too!"
"Yes!" Mitsuri cheered, bouncing on her feet.
Shinjiro and his wife exchanged knowing smiles. "Go on," Shinjiro encouraged his son. "Show them Hakumai. Enjoy your youth while you can."
"Of course, Father!" Kyojuro shouted, his voice carrying across the festival. He grabbed Mamoru's free hand, Mitsuri already holding the other, and before Mamoru could react, the three of them were running headlong into the crowd.
The lanterns of Hakumai glowed like stars scattered along the streets, their orange light swaying with the breeze. The air was alive with laughter, the clatter of drums, and the mouthwatering aroma of grilled skewers, dumplings, and sweet red bean buns.
Mamoru walked alongside Kyōjurō, Mitsuri, and Onimaru, his eyes darting everywhere at once. Children ran past carrying festival masks shaped like foxes and demons, while vendors shouted out their wares in cheerful tones.
"What a lively sight!" Kyōjurō boomed, his golden eyes gleaming. "Truly, festivals are the flame of the people's spirit!"
Mitsuri clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes! It's so bright and cheerful! It makes my heart feel like it's dancing!"
Mamoru smiled, though Onimaru padded beside him with a tilted head, sniffing every food stall they passed.
The first game they stopped at was the goldfish scooping stall. Mitsuri immediately tried, crouching with determination as she held the thin paper scoop. Within seconds—rip! The paper tore, and the fish slipped away.
"Ahhh! I lost it!" she cried, puffing her cheeks.
Mamoru chuckled. "Maybe go slower?"
Kyōjurō stepped forward, his voice loud enough to startle the vendor.
"Leave it to me! A warrior's focus is absolute!"
He dipped his scoop into the water with dramatic precision… only for the paper to tear instantly.
"…Ah."
Mamoru doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach. Even Mitsuri giggled behind her hand.
In the end, Mamoru tried, carefully lifting a small goldfish out of the water. Onimaru barked in approval as Mamoru dropped the fish into the bowl.
> "Well done, Mamoru!" Kyōjurō declared proudly, as though Mamoru had slain a beast.
"So cool!" Mitsuri added with sparkling eyes.
They moved on, playing ring toss, shooting stalls, and even trying the strength test with a giant hammer. Kyōjurō's strike was so powerful it nearly cracked the machine, startling everyone nearby. He laughed heartily, chest puffed.
"Hahaha! My spirit burns bright and sets my heart is set ablaze !"
Mitsuri eagerly tried after him, managing to send the marker higher than most grown men, which left the stall owner gawking.
Mamoru tried too, his swing was great but marker didnt manage to go higher than Misturi.
"Mitsuri you are really strong, now i get where all that food is going …" Mamoru muttered.
But Mitsuri quickly clapped her hands, smiling warmly.
> "That was great! You gave it your all, Mamoru!"
Kyōjurō nodded firmly.
"Indeed! Effort itself is a blazing flame, you're swing was as great as mine if not ,then greater !"
Mamoru couldn't help but grin. He wasn't weak , Misturi was just a special case .
By the time they sat down to eat, Mamoru's stomach was already full. They had eaten yakitori, sweet dumplings, takoyaki, and roasted chestnuts. Now, Mitsuri and Kyōjurō placed steaming bowls of festival ramen in front of them.
Mamoru groaned, staring at the food.
"Again…?"
Mitsuri and Kyōjurō answered in perfect unison, eyes shining:
"Yes, again!"
Onimaru wagged his tail and barked as though agreeing.
Mamoru slumped forward, chopsticks weak in his hand, staring into the steaming broth. He slowly slurped a noodle, his eyes half-shut in exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Mitsuri was eating like she hadn't touched a bite all night, happily humming between mouthfuls.
"Mmm! This broth is so good! And the noodles are chewy!"
Kyōjurō, on the other hand, ate with even greater vigor than before. Every bite was a battle cry.
"Delicious!" he roared, broth dripping from his chopsticks. "Another bite—heave ho!"
He slammed down his chopsticks after each bite, pumping his fist.
"Heave ho!"
"Heave ho!" Mitsuri joined in, giggling between bites.
Even Onimaru barked along, his head bouncing to the chant.
Mamoru groaned, trying to finish his bowl, sweat forming on his forehead.
"I'm going to explode…" he muttered, leaning over the table like a defeated soldier.
But when he looked up and saw Mitsuri's bright smile and Kyōjurō's burning enthusiasm, he couldn't help but laugh through his exhaustion.
For that one night, surrounded by lanterns, laughter, and friends, Mamoru felt the warmth of a world that seemed unshakably good.
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