The trio was unstoppable. The festival dragged on for the whole night and dawn would be here soon.
First came the food stalls. Kyojuro ordered skewers of grilled eel with a passion so loud the vendor nearly dropped them. "This eel shall fuel my strength for the coming duels, Delecious!!" he cried, biting down with gusto. Mitsuri followed with sakuramochi, cheeks puffed happily. Mamoru, slower and more careful, tried roasted chestnuts, savoring their sweetness.
Then came the games. Mitsuri insisted on the goldfish scooping, squealing with joy when she managed to catch two. Kyojuro, with fiery determination, declared he would win the ring toss and, after several dramatic failures, succeeded by sheer persistence, lifting his small prize as if it were a legendary sword. Mamoru tried the archery stall, recalling his father's lessons on balance and focus—his arrow struck the outer ring, not perfect, but enough to earn polite applause.
They laughed until their sides hurt. They shared their food without thought, passing skewers and dumplings between each other, sticky fingers and warm smiles.
As the sun sank, the festival glow shifted into a dreamlike haze of lanterns and music. The children wandered toward the port, where lanterns floated across the water like a sea of stars. They sat together at the edge, their reflections mingling with the light.
Kyojuro leaned back on his hands, his voice softer but no less filled with conviction. "Festivals are the best. The food, the people, the joy—it makes me want to protect it all. That's what Mother tells me. The strong must always protect the weak."
Mamoru's eyes widened,those words piercing into his heart.
"Mamoru, you're name means protect. You must protect the weak " ~a women's voice rang out inside Mamoru's head
"What a strong sense of justice " Mamoru said
He glanced at Mitsuri, who nodded eagerly, her cheeks full of dumpling. "Yes! That's what my dad says too!"
Mamoru whispered, more to himself than them, "Then I'll grow strong enough that no matter how unfair the world is, I'll win. I'll protect everyone I can."
Neither Mitsuri nor Kyojuro questioned him. They only grinned and cheered in agreement, their voices rising with the festival drums in the distance.
---
High above, overlooking the port from the balcony of Yasuie's castle, Ushimaru and Yasuie stood side by side.
Below, they could see Mamoru seated with Mitsuri and Kyojuro, the children's laughter rising faintly with the sea breeze.
Yasuie smiled, stroking his non existent beard. "Your son's heart is good, Ushimaru. Too good, perhaps."
Ushimaru crossed his arms, watching as Mamoru offered his last dumpling to Mitsuri, leaving only a small portion for himself. Then Kyojuro, ever eager, reached over and helped himself to the rest of Mamoru's food without hesitation. Mamoru didn't complain—he only laughed and pushed the skewer toward him.
Yasuie chuckled. "See? Generous to a fault."
Ushimaru's brow furrowed. "Generosity is fine. But not if it leaves him with nothing."
As if summoned, he called down. "Mamoru! Come here."
The boy scrambled up the steps with Mitsuri and Kyojuro waving after him. Mamoru came before his father, smiling nervously.
"You gave away all your food," Ushimaru said plainly. "Don't do that. A samurai who starves cannot protect anyone."
Mamoru shook his head quickly. "It's fine, ive been eating all night Father. I'm not hungry at all—"
His stomach betrayed him at that exact moment, growling loudly.
Mamoru's cheeks flushed. Maybe he was a little hungry after all its been a while since he's eaten , he straightened his back, his small voice serious. "I'm a samurai. Samurai don't go hungry."
For the first time that day, Ushimaru's eyes twitched. The boy had thrown his own words back at him.
Both Ushimaru and Yasuie stared in silence for a beat before Yasuie burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. "Hahaha! He truly is your son, Ushimaru."
After a long pause, Ushimaru sighed, pulling the food he had kept aside for himself and placing it into his son's hands. "Eat. Even samurai must keep their strength."
Mamoru's eyes widened. "Father… are you sure?"
"I am," Ushimaru said firmly.
The boy smiled softly, bowing his head. "Thank you, Father." He took a bite, warmth filling his chest as much as his stomach. For that brief moment, the world felt perfect.
But before the tender silence could linger, a voice thundered across the port.
"MAMORU!"
Kyojuro came charging up the steps, Mitsuri chasing after him. He held skewers of food in both hands, waving them like banners. "We found more food! And we want to share it with you!"
He thrust one toward Mamoru with blazing enthusiasm. "I admire you, Mamoru! For your kindness, for your heart! My mother says the strong must protect the weak, and you—your kindness shows you will be strong indeed!"
Mamoru blinked at him, stunned. Mitsuri only laughed, tugging Mamoru's sleeve. "See? You're always helping, so now we'll help you."
From afar, Ushimaru and Yasuie exchanged a glance. Their smiles faded, replaced by a shared gravity.
The children's laughter rose again, louder than the drums, brighter than the lanterns. They were the future—the snow of Ringo, the flame of the Rengoku, the blossom of Kanroji.
And beneath that joy, both daimyo felt the looming shadow of Orochi growing darker by the day.