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While the Gojo clan was dealing with their mess, far from the capital, there was a village.
Nestled in a valley between two mountains, where a beautiful stream cut through the landscape like a ribbon, there existed a place that looked like heaven.
It was a small village, with houses built from wood and thatch, arranged along a single dirt road that followed the stream's path. It was modest and simple. The kind of settlement that had existed in these mountains for generations, sustaining itself on rice paddies, fishing, and the quiet stubbornness of people who preferred the company of trees to the rush of the cities or towns.
In the early morning, the village was going through its daily schedule.
Women sat by the stream, washing their clothes and chatting with one another. An elderly man sat on the porch of his home, weaving a basket from strips of bamboo; his fingers moved automatically. He was someone who had done this ten thousand times before.
Nearby, a younger man split firewood with an axe, stacking the pieces in a neat pile.
Rice paddies stretched along the valley floor and were being tended by farmers.
By the stream, a fisherman stood with a net in his hands, waiting patiently for the fish to arrive.
On the other side of the village, smoke rose from cooking fires. The smell of miso and steamed rice spread between the houses.
It was peaceful, a place some might think would never exist.
And to complete the picture, in the center of the village, seven children were running around.
Five boys and two girls. All of them were somewhere between three and four years old. They were in between an intense round of tag.
The rules were simple.
One person chases, and everyone else runs. If you get caught, you're it. If you trip and fall, you get up and keep running. If you cry, someone pats your head, you get up, and keep running. No place for the weak. Tag is a serious activity after all.
Laughter filled the clearing as every single one of them were having the time of their life.
A little girl, three years old, with light brown hair, was sprinting across the clearing trying to catch the other six kids.
THE IMAGE(COMMENT)
"I will catch you, Kiro!"
The boy, roughly the same age, glanced back over his shoulder without slowing down.
"In your dreams, Kiriko!"
"THAT'S NOT FAIR! YOUR LEGS ARE LONGER!"
"Not my fault!"
"IT IS!"
The other children scattered around them, laughing, dodging, and weaving between each other. A boy tripped over his own foot and tripped into the dirt. He was up again in two seconds, giggling, already running.
"KIRIKO! COME HOME, HONEY! YOUR FATHER IS BACK!"
Just then, Kiriko's mother's voice stopped the fun.
Kiriko froze, then slowly she turned toward the sound, and her face split into a wide smile.
"DADDY IS BACK?"
Her mother, standing at the edge, nodded and laughed at the expression on her daughter's face.
Kiriko spun to face her friends and yelled.
"I have to go!"
Kiro sat up. "Wait, is Juzo-san back? Did he bring something?"
"TELL US IF HE BROUGHT SOMETHING FUN!" another boy yelled.
Kiriko was already running as she glanced back over her shoulder, still grinning.
"No promises!"
"KIRIKO!"
"Hehehe, got it, got it!"
She rushed to her mother, nearly colliding with her legs. She grabbed her mother's hand with both of hers and tugged, trying to pull her in the direction of home.
"Come on, come on, come on!"
"All right, all right. He's not going anywhere, Kiriko."
"But what if he leaves again?"
"He just got here."
"You never know with daddy."
Her mother laughed and let herself be pulled.
They walked together along the dirt path towards the eastern edge of the village, where a modest house sat beside a small vegetable garden.
Kiriko's hand was wrapped around her mother's fingers, swinging their arms back and forth with every step.
Her mother, Suzune, looked down at her with the warm, amused expression of a woman who found her daughter's enthusiasm endlessly entertaining.
Suzune was in her Mid-twenties. She had a soft face, with long dark hair.
"You really love your father, don't you?"
Kiriko didn't hesitate. "YEAH!"
Suzune tilted her head as her smile turned playful. "Even more than me?"
Kiriko's bouncing stopped, and her smile vanished. Her entire body went solid with the sudden, horrified realization that she had accidentally implied a preference and might have just committed the worst crime in the history of daughter-mother relations.
She looked down at the ground shyly.
"No, no, I didn't say that. I didn't mean it like that. I love you too, Mommy. I love you both the same. I just, he was gone for a long time, and I missed him, and I didn't mean-"
"Hehehe~"
Kiriko looked up and saw her mother laughing. Which turned Kiriko's horror into outrage.
"You're pulling my leg!" she accused, pointing a tiny finger at her mother's face.
Suzune laughed harder.
"BAD MOMMY."
"Oh, sweetheart-"
"BAD."
Suzune crouched down, scooped Kiriko up, and kissed her cheek. Then the other cheek. Then her forehead.
"You are such a cute little thing," she said, pressing her nose against her daughter's.
Kiriko puffed her cheeks and looked away, maintaining her pissed-off face.
"Hmph."
"Still mad?"
"Yes."
"Even though I'm carrying you?"
That made her pause, and the puffed cheeks deflated a bit.
"...A little less mad."
Suzune grinned and kept walking towards their house.
***
Five minutes later, they reached the house.
Standing on the porch, one shoulder leaning against the wooden post, was a man.
He was tall. Not in the imposing, warrior-built way, but the friendly uncle way. His frame was lean, and his hair was a shade of light brown, a shade similar to Kiriko. His face was tanned from the sun, which suggested he'd been on the road for a long time.
He wore a simple travelling kimono, dusty from the road, with a pack set down beside him on the porch.
He looked at them and smiled, after all... this is the reason he did all this for.
"Hello there, sweetheart."
Suzune set Kiriko down.
Which was a mistake.
The moment Kiriko's feet touched the ground, she launched herself at her father like an arrow. She crossed the distance between them in a second and slammed into his chest with enough force to make him stumble backward.
"Oof-"
She buried her face in his chest, her small arms wrapping around him as far as they could reach.
"I miished yuuuu," she said, her voice muffled by fabric.
Juzo laughed as his hand came up and rested on her head, gently ruffling her hair.
"Missed you too, sweetheart."
She held on for a few more seconds. Then she pulled back, looked up at him, and her expression changed with the speed that only Kiriko could manage, from happy reunion to interrogation.
"Did you bring me something?"
Juzo's smile froze. He pressed a hand to his chest as if deeply hurt.
"Oh kami! So my daughter only loves me when I bring her gifts? Is that it? My sweet child? The child I raised and fed and carried on my shoulders? She only cares about presents?"
He turned away, covering his face with one hand. Shaking his head slowly. The picture of a man whose heart had been shattered by the brutal cruelty of his own offspring. The drama!
Kiriko's eyes went wide.
"No Daddy! I didn't mean..... I love you even without presents! I was just asking! I love you all the time! Even when you don't bring-"
She stopped.
Because she'd spotted it. The tiny crack in her father's performance. The corner of his mouth, just barely visible behind his hand, curved upward in a grin he didn't cover.
Kiriko's panic evaporated as her face turned red.
She balled her tiny fist and punched him in the stomach.
"OOF!!!"
"DON'T TEASE ME!"
Juzo gave up on the performance. He coughed hard with one of his hands on his stomach, and the other waving in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Won't happen again."
"You always say that!"
"And I always mean it."
"LIAR."
"Okay, maybe a little."
She puffed her cheeks and looked away.
The same gesture her mother made when Juzo said something stupid. The resemblance was uncanny.
Juzo recovered from the stomach punch, which had been surprisingly solid for a three-year-old, and sat up. He reached into the fold of his kimono and pulled out something small, wrapped in a piece of soft cloth.
"Here," he said, holding it out. "I got this for you."
Kiriko's sadness lasted approximately one and a half seconds.
She turned.
Saw the cloth.
Her eyes locked onto it like a hawk spotting a prey.
She took it from his hand carefully and unfolded the cloth one corner at a time, peeling it back slowly, as if whatever was inside might disappear if she moved too fast.
Inside was a kanzashi.
A small, delicate hair ornament carved from wood and inlaid with tiny chips of blue stone, in a design that resembled a snowflake.
It caught the sunlight and sparkled, the blue stone fragments glinting like ice crystals.
Kiriko stared at it with her mouth open.
"This is the best gift ever....."
She threw herself at her father again. Another collision, another stumble, and yes..... yet another oof.
"Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Juzo laughed, wrapping his arms around her. "Anything for you, sweetheart. I saw it at a market and thought of you."
"Because of the snowflake?"
"Because of the snowflake."
"I LOVE IT!"
"I know you do."
She pulled back, holding the kanzashi up to the light, turning it in her fingers, watching the way the blue stones scattered the sunlight. Her eyes were actually shining. The kind of eyes that children have when the world hands them something godly.
Suzune walked up behind them, watching the scene with a smile full of affection and amusement.
"What about me?"
Juzo looked at her. Then reached into his kimono again and pulled out a second cloth-wrapped bundle.
"As if I'd forget."
He unwrapped it himself and held it out to her. A second kanzashi. Larger than Kiriko's, more refined in design, but carrying the same snowflake design.
Suzune took it and carefully put it in her hair.
"It's beautiful," she said softly.
"Saw them together at the craftsman's stall," Juzo said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish expression. "Matching set. Couldn't say no."
Suzune smiled, leaned up, and kissed his cheek.
"Thank you."
Kiriko, not to be excluded from any display of affection, squeezed herself between her parents and wrapped one arm around each of their legs.
"Group hug!" she declared.
Juzo laughed along with Suzune. They both leaned down, and the three of them stood there in front of their house, in their quiet village, beside their small garden, holding each other in the late afternoon light.
A father who traveled far and always came back.
A mother who held everything together while he was gone.
A daughter who loved them both with everything she had.
A perfect family.
A family, that sadly doesn't know how fragile it is.
--<<>>--
Welp... what a nice family, right?? Sweet stuff...👀👀 Realllllly sweet stuff.👀👀👀👀👀