Month: Late Spring
Year: Meiji Era
Age: Akira – 16 years old | Mitsuri – 16 years old
Location: Kanroji estate, Azabu roads, early morning
---
Akira
At sixteen, the body stopped asking permission.
Strength settled into bone. Breath no longer adjusted — it decided. Total Concentration: Constant had long since ceased to be something he noticed. It was simply the way his lungs moved now.
Akira packed before dawn.
Not hurried.
Not sentimental.
Clothes folded with care. Money counted once — then left untouched. His blade rested wrapped at the bottom of his travel pack, disguised, unremarkable.
Only Great Sage bore witness.
Destination confirmed. Objective: Final Selection. Disclosure to companions: none.
Akira exhaled slowly.
This was his choice.
---
He stepped into the kitchen quietly.
Habit lingered.
He prepared breakfast anyway.
Herbs first — circulation roots finely cut, calming leaves steeped gently. The food was light, strengthening. Something that would linger after he left.
By the time the house stirred, everything was ready.
---
Mrs. Kanroji noticed first.
"You're up early," she said mildly, watching him pour tea.
"I'm leaving today," Akira replied evenly.
Her hands paused.
"…Leaving?"
"For a trip," he said. "Training-related."
Not a lie.
Just incomplete.
She studied his face for a long moment — then smiled softly.
"Then eat well," she said. "And come back safely."
Akira bowed. "I will."
She accepted it.
Mothers often knew when not to ask.
---
Mitsuri
Mitsuri felt it before she heard it.
The house felt… off.
She stepped into the kitchen, hair loose, breath steady — and saw the travel pack by the door.
Her chest tightened.
"…You're going somewhere."
Akira nodded. "A short trip."
She stared at him. "You didn't say anything."
"I didn't want to make it strange."
That didn't help.
She crossed her arms, then immediately uncrossed them. "…How long?"
"Not long," he said honestly. "I'll return."
She searched his face.
He wasn't lying.
But he wasn't telling everything either.
---
They walked together afterward — just the two of them — along the path they'd taken a hundred times.
Spring was fully awake now. Green everywhere. Warm wind. Life moving forward.
"You're different," Mitsuri said quietly.
Akira tilted his head. "So are you."
She smiled faintly. "You feel… further away."
He stopped walking.
Not from hesitation.
From care.
"Mitsuri," he said calmly, "I'm still here."
She looked at him — really looked.
His posture. His breath. His eyes.
Steady.
Grounded.
Still him.
"…Okay," she said at last. "Then I won't worry."
She stepped forward and hugged him — brief, firm, familiar.
"Don't get hurt," she added quickly.
Akira returned the hug gently. "I won't."
That part, at least, was a promise.
---
Akira
At the edge of the road, he stopped.
The Kanroji estate rested behind him — warm, alive, unchanged.
He bowed once.
Then turned away.
Great Sage spoke, quiet and precise.
Point of no return crossed. Resolve confirmed. Breath stable.
Akira walked forward.
Not running.
Not hesitating.
The world ahead was darker.
But his breath did not fear the night.
---
Mitsuri
She watched until he was gone.
Not anxious.
Not afraid.
Just… aware.
"…Come back," she whispered to the empty road.
Her breathing stayed steady.
Somehow, she knew —
This wasn't an ending.
---