The dawn mist rolled across the shore, curling like breath from the sea. Kenji tightened the rope of Haruto's net around his wrist, his heart pounding. Today, the tide was strong, and the gulls wheeled lower than usual. Signs fishermen often read as fortune.
Sora skipped at his side, carrying the clay pot. "Papa Kenji! The water feels different today."
Kenji glanced down. "Different?"
Sora nodded seriously. "Like it's waiting. Like it wants to give us something."
Kenji's lips curved into a wry smile. "Then let's not keep it waiting."
They waded knee-deep into the surf. The old net felt heavy, patched, but steady enough. Kenji gripped it firmly, showing Sora the motion.
"Watch carefully, Sora. When you cast, you don't just throw. You let the sea pull it open. Like this—"
With a practiced sweep, he flung the net wide. It spread into a circle before sinking beneath the waves. For a moment, there was only the hiss of the tide. Then—movement. The rope trembled.
"Papa Kenji! It's full!"
Kenji braced himself, muscles straining. The net dragged, heavy as a sack of stone. Slowly, step by step, they hauled it toward the shore. As the water shallowed, silver flashed inside—a writhing mass of sardines, their scales glittering like a spilled treasure chest.
Sora's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "There's hundreds!"
Kenji laughed, exhilarated. "Not hundreds… but enough to fill our bucket twice over!"
They hauled the catch onto the sand, the fish flopping in chaotic rhythm. Sora squealed with delight, running in circles.
By the time they returned to the market, dragging the bulging net between them, the usual whispers stilled.
"Is that… Kenji?"
"With that haul?"
"Impossible. Must've stolen it."
Kenji ignored them, focusing on the fishmonger. The man's eyes widened.
"You brought all this? In one cast?"
Kenji kept his tone steady. "The sea was kind today. How much for the lot?"
The fishmonger scratched his head, muttering. "Sardines… good size, fresh… twenty copper for the bucket. Two buckets' worth…" He sighed. "Forty copper. Best I can do."
Kenji narrowed his eyes. "Forty? For this much, the innkeepers will line up. Fifty. Fair price."
The crowd murmured. Bold words from the so-called Empty Bucket.
The fishmonger scowled, then threw up his hands. "Fine! Fifty. But next time, don't haggle me blind."
Coins clinked into Kenji's palm—more than he had ever held since arriving in Minato.
Sora tugged his sleeve, whispering, "Papa Kenji… we're really rich now!"
Kenji hid a smile. "We're not rich yet, Sora. But today, we're closer.
As they packed up, Riku stepped forward, arms crossed. His eyes flicked between the overflowing baskets and Kenji's calm face.
"Beginner's luck," he sneered. "The sea tests fools before drowning them."
Sora bristled. "It's not luck! The sea likes Papa Kenji—and me too!"
Riku barked a laugh. "A brat's dreams. Don't get too proud, fisherman. The sea gives, but it takes more."
Kenji met his gaze evenly. "Then I'll give back what I can. That's the balance."
Riku's smirk faded, but he said nothing more. The crowd buzzed, some impressed, others whispering darker things.
That evening, in their shack, Kenji poured the day's earnings onto the floor. Copper coins spilled in a gleaming pile.
Sora's eyes sparkled. "Papa Kenji! Can we buy another apple? Or—maybe a blanket? It gets cold at night."
Kenji chuckled. "Both, perhaps. But we must save, too. Nets don't last forever."
He counted carefully:
📜 Kenji's Earnings (Updated)
Previous total: 30 copper
Day 8 earnings: +50 copper
Purchases: -6 copper (bread, fish stew, blanket, apple)
= 74 copper total
Kenji placed the coins into a small pouch, tightening the string. "One day soon, Sora, we'll have enough for our own net. Stronger than this one. Then… perhaps even a boat."
Sora's eyes shone. "A boat! With a sail?"
Kenji ruffled his hair. "One step at a time, little fisherman. One step at a time."
Father and Son
As the fire crackled low, Sora curled under the new blanket, holding the apple core he'd saved. "Papa Kenji… today was the best day ever."
Kenji gazed at him, warmth swelling in his chest. "It was a good day, Sora. But tomorrow, we'll make it better."
The boy smiled sleepily. "The sea really likes us."
Kenji whispered into the dark, more to himself than anyone, "Then may it keep liking us… for both our sakes."