Gradually, the seasons passed. It had been exactly one year since Senjuro was born, a little boy now barely standing on his own feet.
From what Kagerou could see, Senjuro was different from both Kyojuro and Shinjuro. If Kyojuro was a mirror of their father, bright, loud, and unshakable, then Senjuro was Ruka's reflection. Quiet. Gentle. Observant.
He could already sense something in the boy, a soft, flickering potential that reminded him of smoke itself: elusive, yet full of promise.
Still, it was far too early to tell.
In the meantime, Kagerou's role in the Corps continued to grow.
Even though he is an outsider, he has joined several Hashira meetings by now, sitting alongside the strongest swordsmen in the land. Strangely enough, both Tengen and Gyomei had come to treat him like a younger brother.
There was no need to question Kagerou's capability, his maturity and insight often rivaled that of adults.
He listened more than he spoke, but when he did, his words carried weight.
The only thing he lacked… was age.
After each meeting, he would often remain behind with Kagaya Ubuyashiki, talking quietly about matters only the two of them seemed to understand.
And yet, despite all that Kagerou could do, train, fight, strategize, there was still one thing beyond his reach.
He couldn't do anything about Ruka's condition.
That, more than anything, was what he regretted most.
---
In just one year, everything had changed.
Ruka's illness had grown worse.
By now, she could barely leave her bed, spending her days gazing out through the open shoji at the garden beyond.
But Shinjuro and Kyojuro had learned their lesson.
They had come to accept the situation.
Accepting did not mean giving up, no, never... but rather understanding that some battles could not be fought with swords.
There was nothing to be done for Ruka's health. And yet… nothing about her spirit had changed. She was still the same, a loving wife, a tender mother, the quiet heart of their home.
To outsiders, Ruka might have seemed perfectly fine. Her beauty remained, her smile unbroken. But those who knew her saw the truth, something unseen was slowly consuming her from within, eating away at her life's flame.
Still, none of them gave up.
Not Shinjuro.
Not Kyojuro.
Not Kagerou.
They simply shifted their struggle, no longer to heal, but to give.
To give her warmth.
To give her peace.
To give her all the love they could, while time still allowed it.
The only things they couldn't give her were the Moon, the Sun, and the World itself.
If there had been even the slightest way to save Ruka's life, even if it meant sacrificing their own, they would have done so without hesitation.
For them, Ruka was not just a mother.
Not just a wife.
She was something far greater.
Ruka was the anchor that held their hearts together, the quiet force that bound their souls as one.
She was, and would always be the one who kept their world from falling apart.
---
Time keeps flowing, that is absolute.
None can turn it backward, nor bring it to a halt.
As time flows, the seasons change, people age; somewhere, someone awaits a new arrival, while elsewhere, another whispers their final goodbye.
The old pass away in the natural order of things, while newborn cries greet the world. And somewhere in between, there are those who feel their time drawing near, yet knowing it does not mean they are prepared... No one ever truly is.
You survive today, and you hope to do the same tomorrow.
That is the simplest, purest instinct of all humanity, the will to live.
Ruka was one of them.
She knew her time was close, yet she still wished for one more day.
Not a year, not a month, just a single day more.
If she survived today, she would pray to see tomorrow.
If she survived tomorrow, she would quietly hope to reach the day after.
That was all she asked for, nothing grand, nothing impossible, just one more day to live, to breathe, to be with those she loved.
In these two years, every single day, her hope had never changed... Just one more day.
And today was no different. But...
---
Ruka lay upon her futon as the spring breeze drifted through the open shōji.
Beside her sat Kagerou, now nine years old, holding a small bowl of porridge in his hands.
Carefully, he fed his mother, the woman who, for the past year, had only known the outside world through that open door.
Yet there was no sadness in her eyes.
These past two years had been the happiest of her life... She lacked nothing, nothing but time.
From the backyard came the familiar sound of wooden swords clashing *thock!* *thock!* the rhythm of a master training his son. Shinjuro's deep voice occasionally broke through the air, firm yet patient, while little Senjuro watched from the sidelines with wide-eyed wonder.
Meanwhile, her eldest son sat quietly by her side, steady and composed as always.
Ruka turned her head toward him. "Kage-kun," she called softly. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but to Kagerou, it was as clear as sunlight.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Did I ever tell you…" she began, her voice rough, each word an effort, "…that you joining our family was the greatest gift we ever received?"
Kagerou smiled faintly. "Mother, you say that almost every day. And every time, I tell you the same thing, that joining this family was the greatest blessing I ever had"
A weak chuckle escaped her lips. "And I hope… I had that 'every day' a little-"
"Mother," Kagerou interrupted gently, lifting a spoonful of porridge toward her. "Open your mouth. Don't talk nonsense like that"
She smiled faintly at his firmness, such a kind, familiar tone, and obeyed.
Then, after a pause, her trembling hand reached for his sleeve. "Kage-kun," she murmured, her voice barely audible, "I want to sit"
Kagerou hesitated for a moment, then nodded silently. He set the bowl aside and helped her up, careful not to strain her fragile body.
"There we go… now let's-"
Before he could finish, Ruka's arms moved weakly yet with surprising strength, pulling him into her embrace.
"…Mother?"
Kagerou froze. Her touch was light, almost weightless, yet the warmth behind it, the love, the finality, pressed against his chest like a flame about to fade.
"Did I ever tell you," Ruka began softly, "how much I love you?"
Kagerou couldn't speak. His throat locked, his breath caught.
"…I… I'm afraid, Kage-kun," she whispered.
"M-Mother-"
"I… I don't want to die. Not yet…" Ruka's voice trembled, breaking between sobs. "I want to watch you all grow up. I want to see you find someone who'll love you, to see you get married. I want to tell your wife what you like, what you don't like…"
Her voice cracked as her trembling hand brushed through his hair. "And then… I want to become a grandmother. I want to hold your child in my arms, the same way I'm holding you now. I… I don't want this. Not yet…"
Kagerou couldn't see her face, but he knew, she was crying. And before he even realized it, he was crying too. The second time he had shed a tear since coming into this world.
"I… I don't want it either," he choked out, his words trembling. "I finally have someone I can call Mother… so why? Why does fate have to be so cruel? Why you…?"
He clung to her as if holding tighter could stop time itself. "I love you, Mother… I don't want to lose you"
Ruka's lips curved into a faint, trembling smile. "I'm happy… Finally, you're acting like a child," she whispered. Her hand rested on the back of his head, warm, tender, trembling. "I'm happy, Kage-kun"
Her strength began to wane, her touch growing weaker. "Promise me… when I'm gone, take care of them... Shinjuro can be stubborn, but he's a reliable man, even if he hides it well"
Her voice flickered like a candle in the wind. "Kyojuro… be his guide. I don't want him to resemble his father too much"
Her breathing slowed. "And Senjuro… he's gentle, a little fragile. He might have inherited that from me. Take care of him, Kage-kun"
She paused, struggling for one last breath.
"…And you," she said softly, "you're strong, but you keep your heart too closed. Don't be afraid to open it, my son. There are good people out there, let them in. Do you understand?"
Kagerou didn't answer at first. He heard every word clearly, but fear gripped him. He was afraid that if he answered… it would be the last thing she heard.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. He hugged her tighter, desperate to hold onto the warmth that was slowly slipping away.
Ruka's hand moved weakly, stroking his head, patient, gentle... waiting.
"I…" Kagerou began, voice shaking. "I understand, Mother"
"Good…" Ruka breathed. Her voice was no longer even a whisper. It was soft, fading... like the last sigh of spring.
"Knowing you're here… now I can go…"
Her lips trembled into a faint smile.
"…happily"