The morning sun spilled over Minato Village, but Kenji didn't feel much like basking in it. His stomach groaned like a dying whale as he dragged himself out of Daigo's hut.
Kenji (muttering): "Two days. Two days without a single fish… At this rate, I'll reincarnate again, this time as a starving ghost."
Daigo, already chewing on dried sardines like it was a banquet, snorted.
Daigo: "Quit your whining. A fisherman's belly is always empty at the start. Catch something, then you'll eat."
Kenji: "You make it sound so easy. 'Catch something,' he says. As if fish just line up and volunteer."
Daigo shoved a small clay jar into his hands.
Daigo: "Here. Worms. My last batch. Don't waste 'em."
Kenji peered into the jar, grimacing at the wriggling mess.
Kenji: "Worms… My noble allies in the war against starvation. Alright, little guys, let's go make history."
Down at the pier, Sora trotted beside him, clutching his crab pot as always. His enthusiasm hadn't dimmed, even though Kenji had failed miserably the day before.
Sora: "Today you'll catch a big fish, Papa Kenji! I just know it!"
Kenji: "Heh. You've got more faith in me than I do."
He baited the line with a worm—trying not to think too hard about the squishy texture—and cast it into the water. The line bobbed gently. Kenji leaned forward, waiting. Minutes ticked by.
The gulls started circling again. A villager passed by, laughing.
Villager 1: "Look, the newcomer's at it again! Place your bets—will he catch nothing or less than nothing?"
Villager 2: "I bet on nothing. Safer odds."
Kenji clenched his jaw.
Kenji (thinking): Ignore them. Just focus. I'm not gonna let some overgrown sardine outsmart me today.
The line twitched. Kenji's eyes widened. He yanked.
Kenji: "Got one! I got one!"
The hook flew out of the water—empty.
Sora clapped anyway.
Sora: "You're improving! At least the worm's gone this time!"
Kenji slumped.
Kenji: "Yeah, the fish stole lunch, and I'm still broke."
By midday, his jar of worms was empty, and his bucket was still bone dry. He sat on the pier, head in his hands.
Kenji (groaning): "This is hopeless. I can't even feed myself, let alone this kid."
Sora plopped down beside him, setting the crab pot between them.
Sora (cheerfully): "We still have crabs!"
One of the crabs waved a claw like it was mocking him.
Kenji: "…If I eat you, will that make me a bad dad or just a desperate one?"
Sora giggled.
Sora: "Bad dad. They're my friends."
Kenji sighed. "Figures."
That evening, Daigo tossed him a scrap of dried fish.
Daigo: "Here. Don't say I never did anything for you."
Kenji bit into it, savoring the salty taste as if it were gourmet sushi.
Kenji: "Mmm. Michelin-star dining, right here in Minato."
Sora leaned against him, chewing on his half.
Sora: "We'll catch something tomorrow, Papa Kenji. You'll see."
Kenji glanced down at the boy. His eyes sparkled with faith so unshakable it made Kenji's chest ache.
Kenji (thinking): Why does this kid believe in me so much? I can't even provide for him. But… maybe that's why I have to keep trying. For him.
The next morning, Kenji tried again. And again. And again. Days blurred into each other. Each failure gnawed at his pride, but Sora never stopped cheering him on.
Sora: "That was a great throw, Papa Kenji!"
Kenji: "Yeah, too bad the fish didn't applaud."
Sora: "You almost had it that time!"
Kenji: "Almost doesn't fill stomachs, buddy."
The villagers started giving him nicknames: "Empty Bucket Kenji," "Worm Waster," and even "Seagull Bait."
Kenji gritted his teeth, but he never quit.
One evening, as he sat glaring at the sea, Daigo came over with a jug of cheap ale.
Daigo: "You're too stiff. Fish can smell desperation."
Kenji: "Oh, great. So not only am I broke, but I stink of poverty too."
Daigo smirked. "Relax. Watch the waves. Listen to the sea. Fishing's as much patience as it is skill."
Kenji leaned back, watching the horizon. The sunset lit the water in gold and crimson. For a moment, his frustration eased.
Sora curled up beside him, crab pot in his lap.
Sora (sleepily): "You'll catch one tomorrow. I promise."
Kenji chuckled softly, ruffling his hair.
Kenji (thinking): Maybe… maybe the fish will too. Someday.
He gazed out at the endless sea, determination slowly hardening in his chest.
Kenji (to himself): "Alright then. If it's patience the ocean wants, I'll give it patience. I'll sit here every day until I'm the richest fisherman this village has ever seen. Just you watch.