Journey Prep

The next day, Kuremu awoke with a yawn, lifting himself from his table-turned-bed. He stretched a bit before shutting and locking the bed against the wall, where it hung. Peering over towards his desk on the left side of his room, just past where the foot of his bed had been, he grabbed a couple of items and stuffed them into a satchel lazily left on the floor.

“Kuremu, Kuremu!” A soft, high-pitched voice called from downstairs, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps ascending. Kuremu, who hadn’t even dressed yet, let out an irritated sigh.

“What do you want, Suzu?” he questioned, irritation creeping into his voice,  just in time for his little brother, Suzuki, who bore a striking resemblance to him but with wilder, longer hair, to burst through the door.

“You made it!?”

“Yeah, I passed,” Kuremu responded curtly, not ready nor wanting to deal with this conversation. Despite his annoyance, a part of him felt a pang of guilt. Suzuki’s eager eyes reminded him of the childhood they had both lost too soon.

“That’s great, I’m glad for you!”

“Thanks,” he dismissed flatly, not noticing his brother fighting off tears as he asked, “When are you leaving?”

“When everyone’s ready. I have to meet up with them later, around midday.”

“Oh… alright.” Suzuki wiped his face to clear his emotions. His lower lip trembled slightly, but he held back the tears, determined not to let his brother see him cry.

Kuremu continued dressing, his movements sharp and efficient as Suzuki stood in the doorway, his shoulders slumped and his eyes following his brother’s every move, hoping for some sign of affection, however was instead met with a snap as Suzuki’s quiet presence made him uneasy. “What is it?”

“Can I maybe come with you? Not like when you leave, but just hang out before then?”

“No, I have to get back to training,” Kuremu responded sharply, tying his red sash that held together a dark tabard covering most of his body. A dark blue loose shirt with sleeves cut at the biceps clothed his torso.

“But… you’re always training!” Suzuki barked angrily, making Kuremu snap back at him.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Kuremu said sternly, noticing his brother’s fists clenching and his heavy breathing. “I passed the academy because I’m always working my ass off. And what do you do? Run around and play with your friends! Well, go back to doing that while I actually do something for us!”

“Like you’d know what I do. You never hang out with me. You never even talk to me unless I start the conversation. Even then, you’re always short and mean!”

“You don’t understand, you’re too young.”

“No… you’re the one who doesn’t understand!” With that, Suzuki slammed the door and rushed downstairs, leaving Kuremu to grow in irritation at his brother’s lack of emotional maturity.

As the door slammed, Kuremu clenched his jaw and finished dressing. He grabbed his satchel and headed downstairs, where he nearly bumped into Kouta, their adoptive father. Kouta, a tall man with a stern face and piercing eyes, blocked Kuremu’s path with a cold smile.

“Kuremu, you’re up early. Preparing for your big journey?” Kouta asked, his tone dripping with condescension.

“Yes, Kouta,” Kuremu replied, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

“You know, it’s such a shame you’ve never been able to bond with Suzuki. He looks up to you so much, but you’re always so distant. Almost as if you don’t care about your own brother.”

“I care about him, but he needs to understand the importance of hard work and dedication,” Kuremu said, trying to keep his temper in check.

“Is that so?” Kouta stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “Or is it that you’re just incapable of showing any real affection? You’ve always been the cold one, haven’t you? Always needing to prove yourself, to make up for your shortcomings.”

Kuremu’s fists clenched at his sides. “I’m doing what I need to do for our future.”

“For your future,” Kouta corrected, his voice a low hiss. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking this is for anyone but you. Suzuki would have been better off without your so-called guidance.”

Kuremu’s anger flared, but he bit his tongue, knowing any outburst would only give Kouta more ammunition. “I’ll be back later,” he said tersely, pushing past Kouta and heading for the door.

Kouta’s hand shot out, gripping Kuremu’s shoulder tightly, his nails digging in slightly. “Your parents would be so disappointed, you know. They always hoped you’d grow up to be someone they could be proud of. Instead, you’ve turned into someone who can’t even show kindness to his own brother.”

Kuremu froze, his heart pounding in his chest. “Don’t you dare bring them into this,” he muttered, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. Memories of his parents flashed through his mind, their hopeful faces, their untimely demise. The weight of their legacy felt like a crushing burden on his shoulders.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” Kouta continued, his voice softening to a mockingly sympathetic tone. “They’re gone, and all they left behind is you and Suzuki. It’s a pity you’re squandering their legacy with your cold heart.”

Kuremu’s vision blurred with anger, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I’m doing the best I can. I’m making something of myself, unlike some people,” he said through gritted teeth.

Kouta’s smile widened, his eyes glinting with malice. “We’ll see how far that gets you. Don’t disappoint me, Kuremu. You’ve already done that enough.”

With a final, forceful shrug, Kuremu broke free from Kouta’s grip and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him. The cold morning air hit his face, a stark contrast to the heated exchange he had just endured. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead, and set off towards the meeting point, his mind already focused on the journey to come.

Dobutsumé sat at the counter for her family’s shop, twirling a pen in her hand. Having just finished dealing with a stranger to Lanai who had come for last night’s celebration, she noticed Hayashi approaching, who she greeted with a warm, “What’s up, Ichihara?”

Hayashi nodded awkwardly, as he often did when standing in place. Giving a gentle rub to the back of a stick-bug he had grabbed shortly before entering the Yoshisawa farm. “Just wanted to check on my fish.”

“Fish?” Dobutsumé questioned with a curious expression, causing Hayashi to pause and stare at her through his round, green goggles, his similarly colored poncho hiding his stance.

“M-my… my fish.”

With a light chuckle, Dobutsumé tossed the blazer that barely covered her shoulders back onto the chair and got up. “Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you.” Hayashi’s heart skipped a beat, but he sighed in relief and followed her through the shop, eventually reaching some back rooms, where another boy was grabbing small fish to feed into a large tank with eel-shark-esque creatures that quickly gobbled them up.

“Here you are,” Dobutsumé said as they walked up to a tank labeled [Ichihara, H. – Nawaki & Katsumi]. Hayashi pressed his hand against the glass, smiling as the two large fish swam up to greet him. Whispering a few words to them, he turned back to Dobutsumé and gave her a bow, thanking her for her time.

“Don’t worry. My mother said she’d personally check on them every other day,” Dobutsumé reassured as they returned to the front desk. There, they found Kuremu waiting, a plastic cup with his prize resting on the counter.

“It’s not even noon, and we’ve had eight people pass through. Busy day,” Dobutsumé noted.

Hayashi nodded to Kuremu, but they exchanged no words. Instead, Kuremu  engaged Dobutsumé in conversation, replying, “Oh? Well, hopefully I won’t take up too much more of your time.”

Dobutsumé scooted back in her seat, warming her wrists from the cold counter as she rested her hands beside the keyboard. “What’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the cup.

“Won it in a bet last night. No idea what it is, figured I’d come by and ask you,” Kuremu said, placing the cup on the counter.

“What happened to ‘only people like Sabani gamble’?”

“It’s not a gamble when you know you’re going to win.”

With a smirk, Dobutsumé picked up the cup and examined it closely. “Hmm… Well, it’s not something I immediately recognize, so it’s nothing common to our area. Who did you get it from?”

Shrugging and scratching his nose, Kuremu explained, “Some stranger. He wanted to be all mysterious, so I went along with it. He looked like he was Nahokan, spoke in a weird accent, and gave the name ‘Hansha.’ But I think it was fake, like his dyed blonde hair. He looked our age but was really tall, like six foot.”

“Kuro?”

“Hmm?” Kuremu stopped and looked at the clerk.

“Too much. Just want to know about this little guy,” Dobutsumé said, tapping the pinky of the hand holding the cup.

“Oh, right… He said it was a rare specimen but didn’t tell me anything about it besides it’ll eat any living thing, mammal or insect.”

Pendulating the cup back and forth in her hand, Dobutsumé stared at Kuremu through its plastic. “Aposematism. It doesn’t appear overly aggressive in nature.” The creature rested softly on its stick, watching Dobutsumé as she brought her face closer, sniffing the cup. “Nor does it have a foul taste or smell. The dorsal scales are likely sharp but probably not enough to cause its coloring, so it’s likely toxic or venomous, which may go in line with the notion that it’ll eat anything, though mammals are usually too big for something of this size. Did he say if its water needed to be clean or wild?”

“Uh…” Raising his hands with a shrug, Kuremu shook his head.

“Have you attempted to feed it?”

Shaking his head again, Dobutsumé placed the cup on the counter and walked past a door behind her, leaving Kuremu and Hayashi standing in place. She returned moments later with a thumb-sized insectoid creature typically used for small animal feeding and fishing, held within a hand-sized plastic container.

“Think it’s a reptile?”

“At first glance, you might think it’s a reptile, but I can’t think of many with arms like the ones it’s using to hold onto that stick.”

“Huh…” As Dobutsumé placed the cup inside the box, Kuremu warned, “Be careful. He said it was a curious creature and could be really destructive when it grew bored.”

“Oh, I am. While it’s never good to be bitten by something venomous, it’s especially not good when you don’t know what it is.” Covering the box with a lid to prevent the insect from escaping, she typed a few things on her computer before looking at Kuremu and saying, “And now, we wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“My mom. She shouldn’t be long.”

“She’s going to open the cup?”

“Oh no, she’ll probably have me do that. She gets really freaked out with reptiles, or in this case, reptile-like creatures, so I handle them. I just want a second opinion.”

With a nod, the two waited for several minutes as the creature’s head lifted from its perch, looking first at Kuremu and then at the insect.

“Hungry little guy?” Kuremu asked. The creature flicked its tongue at him, and he responded as if it had spoken, “Don’t worry, you can eat in just a few more minutes.” With another flick of its tongue, it rested its head back on the stick.

Kanako eventually arrived, questioning, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be spending your last day with your brother and Kouta?”

“Oh, I… I’ve already said my goodbyes. I’m just waiting for everyone else, Mrs. Yoshisawa.”

“Alright, if you say so… I can’t complain much. I have Dobutsumé working until she leaves.” Kanako listened to her daughter explain the mystery creature and agreed to give it a look over before they attempted to open the cup. “Well… On first glance, it looks kind of reptilian, so more your area, Sumé.”

“You don’t have any idea either?”

“No, it’s definitely not something that passes through here often.” Unsure of what to make of it, Kuremu crossed his arms and looked at the creature as Kanako asked, “How much do you want for it?”

“W-what?”

“I can’t offer any high price, but I’m sure we can find a mutually happy medium.”

“No, I’m not going to sell it… At least, I don’t plan to.”

“Can you say that with an offer like… five Os?”

“Five Os?… Five Os?!” Kuremu jumped, not expecting such a high starting price.

“Five.”

“Well, that’s… a lot…” Clearing his throat for a moment, he looked at the small, hand-sized creature resting on its stick. “That’s a lot…”

“Is a lot enough?”

Thinking for a minute, Kuremu shook his head. “I… I don’t know…”

“Tell you what. We’ll open its lid and let it eat. Depending on how it acts, I might lower… or raise my price. And you can get a better idea if you want it.” With a nod from Kuremu, Dobutsumé went to open the lid but was stopped by her mother, who waved toward Kuremu. “Normally, I insist we deal with new animals. But since we’re negotiating whether or not you really want it, why don’t you? You can’t be scared of it if you want to keep it, right?”

This sparked a quick argument between Dobutsumé and her mother, however Kuremu nodded and hesitantly grabbed the cup. With its lid getting untightened, the creature lifted its head and took on a more coiled defensive posture as Kuremu retracted his hand from the cup.

After a few seconds, a pair of long tendrils separated from either side of the creature’s body and rose up past the rim of its retainer, where the three spotted a pair of small eyes resting atop of each. “It’s scanning.” Dobutsumé said with a bit of excitement. “Vertical slits?” She questioned, taking note of the two different eye shapes from the main body and the tendrils.

Spotting the insectoid on the counter, the tendrils, acting like periscopes seemed to hone in on it before the eyes closed and in a swift action, pushed against the rim of the cup to catapult it’s main body directly on top of the insect. Causing Kuremu to jump back, Dobutsumé and her mother closely examined it as it began to coil around its lunch.

“Fascinating little guy!” Dobutsumé exclaimed. “Did you see the two pairs of appendages, just outside its mouth?”

“Like chelicerates pedipalps.” Kanako said with a smile.

“And the way it’s constricting, it’s likely holding onto the bottom of the insect with those arms.” Dobutsumé mumbled, a high interest in the new critter as she watched intently.

“Six Os.” Kanako says, unable to take her eyes off the creature as Kuremu glances at her for a moment before looking back to his prize. Hesitating to respond, Kuremu states after a moment of watching it, “I really think it’s cool… But Suzuki could use the money.”

“The Elders of the city have given us permission to open a new building in the main square of the city. This little guy will be the perfect main attraction.” She said with a wide smile before quickly turning to grab her purse.

“Do you want to name it?” Dobutsumé questioned, still unable to take her eyes off it.

“Uh… Isn’t that more something you guys would do? Or like scientists?”

“For it’s family, sure, but I mean specifically. Everything needs a name.”

Nodding, Kuremu looked over to Hayashi for a moment who had returned to his fish, talking to them in the other room. Thinking for a moment, Kuremu watched the creature gnawing on its meal. “Utsukanushii.”

In the courtyard of the Hosoda residence, grunts filled the air as Kotaru sparred a local fighter. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his dark, spiky hair sticking to his skin. Each strike was precise, every movement calculated.

“Good, Kotaru. Keep your form tight,” his mentor, an older, muscular man, instructed from the sidelines.

Kotaru nodded, focusing intently. “I will, Sensei. I need to be ready for anything out there,” he thought, not just for himself, but for the pride of the Hosoda clan. Every strike he made was for his family, his ancestors, and the future he wanted to secure.

“You’ve always been determined, Kotaru. Just remember, strength isn’t everything. Keep your mind sharp, too.”

“Yes, Sensei,” Kotaru replied, landing a final blow that sent his opponent sprawling. He helped the man up, then turned to his mentor, a fire burning in his eyes. “I’ll make the Hosoda name proud. Caipat will remember us, Sensei. I swear,” his voice resolute.

The mentor, Master Tanaka, regarded Kotaru with a mixture of pride and concern. “Your dedication is commendable, Kotaru. But don’t let your aggression blind you. The path to greatness isn’t just through force. Remember why you fight.”

Kotaru clenched his fists, his gaze unwavering. “I understand, Sensei. But the Hosoda have always thrived through strength and will. I won’t let anything stand in our way.”

Master Tanaka sighed, patting Kotaru on the shoulder. “Just remember, balance is key. Now, take a break. You’ll need your energy for the journey ahead.”

Kotaru nodded, reluctantly stepping back and taking a seat on a nearby rock. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his thoughts racing. His mind wandered to his family, the Hosoda clan, one of the four original families that built Lanai. Their legacy was his driving force.

A younger clan member, Ryota, approached him, carrying a water flask as Master Tanaka and the fighter went inside. “You were incredible out there!.”

Kotaru aggressively took the flask, nodding, but mostly ignoring Ryota. “It’s not just about physical strength.” His master’s words bite into him as he thinks about his past, and what his mission means for the clan’s future. “It’s about dedication, loyalty, and the willingness to do whatever it takes for our clan!”

Ryota’s eyes widened with admiration. “I won’t forget that, Kotaru. I’ll train harder.”

Kotaru scoffed, throwing the flask back at Ryota, saying with a furrowed brow. “The Hosoda need warriors. Not sniffling suck-ups.”

“Y-yes, Kotaru.” Ryota replies, fumbling the flask around his hands before giving an intense bow. “I’ll do better.”

“Just get out of here.” Kotaru said, wiping the sweat from his shoulders with a towel. “Go and get my bags ready.” Ryota nodded and gave another intense bow before rushing off, leaving Kotaru alone to his thoughts, but not for long, as Kotaru heard a voice that caused him to jump to attention.

“What will you do when you don’t have cousins to push around?” Hachiro Hasoda, the clan leader, had quietly entered the courtyard and was walking along the stone path.

“Father!” Kotaru greeted, bowing respectfully to his father who peered at his son with a mixture of pride and expectation.

“Are you sure you’re ready for the journey? I was even able to sneak up on you, how do you think you’ll do against the threats of Mori-Seitoshi?” Hachiro questioned, partly joking through a commanding and ever serious voice.

“I’ve trained tirelessly. I won’t fail the Hosoda.” Kotaru said with a large audible gulp following.

“Good,” Hachiro nodded, studying his son for a moment. “The journey you’re about to undertake is not just for you, but for our entire clan. Remember that.”

Kotaru straightened, determination etched into his features. “I will, Father. The Hosoda will rise, and Caipat will never forget our name.” He watched his father enter the clan’s estate, its inner walls adorned with ancient tapestries depicting the clan’s storied history.

In the peaceful confines of a temple, Chikai knelt before a statue, his massive sword laid carefully beside him as the early morning light filtered through the temple windows, casting a serene glow on the stone floor, only the rustling of leaves outside entered the silence.

Finally finished his meditation, Chikai opened his eyes, a shadow crossing his face as he felt the presence of one of the monks of the temple. “I have much to atone for.”

“The path to redemption is long, but you are not alone,” the monk said gently.

Chikai nodded slowly. “I know. I just hope I can find my way.”

“You will. Trust in yourself.”

After a moment, Chikai rose slowly, gathering his giant sword. Giving a bow respectfully to the statue before stepping outside into the crisp morning air. Making his way to the temple’s garden, a peaceful haven where he often sought solace. He drew his sword, its weight familiar and comforting. With a deep breath, he began a series of slow, deliberate movements, practicing his forms. Each swing was precise, each step measured, as if he was fighting an invisible enemy.

As he trained, Chikai’s mind wandered to the face of those he had hurt in the past. Each swing of his massive cleaver felt like a penance, a way to atone for the lives he had taken. His senses so swallowed by his mind, he hadn’t noticed another monk had begun patiently waiting for him to finish his routine, watching quietly. “You seem troubled today,” the monk stated, causing Chikai to pause and rest his sword against the ground.

Chikai nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. “The journey ahead weighs heavily on my mind. I fear what we have to do once we arrive in Caipat. What we have to face after the journey is over.”

“You have strength, Bunkara, both in body and spirit. Trust in that.”

“It’s not my strength I’m worried about,” Chikai admitted, looking down at his hands. “It’s my past. The things I’ve done… The things I have to continue to do… They haunt me.”

The monk placed a reassuring hand on Chikai’s shoulder. “Redemption is a journey, not a destination. Each step you take is one away from the shadows of your past.”

Chikai gave a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. Your words mean a lot, Sire.”

“Give me Harpia, I’ll have the blacksmith give it a look over.” The monk commanded, offering his hands out. “You should spend your last hours here saying goodbye to your home.”

Hesitant to do so, never feeling right when his sword wasn’t by his side, he gave the seven foot greatsword to the monk, unable to question their commands or teachings.Feeling almost vulnerable, Chikai took a quick glance around the garden as he approached the gate leaving the temple grounds. Its peaceful nature quietly accepted his presence, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. However he still turned and left the grounds, only to be met with immediate chaos as a small child bumped into him.

“Hey! Watch it!” Suzuki squeaked before recognizing Chikai.

“Suzuki? What’re you doing here?” Chikai questioned, crouching to the child’s level, giving a faint smile. “Shouldn’t you be with Kuremu?”

“He’s busy.” Suzuki shook his head. “He’s always busy. So I came to hang out with you instead.”

Chikai hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “S-sure, why not? Come on, let’s take a walk. The monks kicked me out for now,” he said jokingly, not wanting to reveal the joy and honor he felt that Suzuki thought to spend their final day together.

As they strolled through the city streets, Suzuki chatted animatedly about everything that came to his mind. Chikai listened patiently, his usual phlegmatic demeanor softening slightly in the boy’s presence.

“Did you know there’s another festival coming up?” Suzuki asked, eyes sparkling. “Kouta said I couldn’t attend last night’s because it was for adults, but the next one is going to be for everyone! There will be games, food, and lots of fun!”

Chikai nodded. “I’ve heard. Perhaps if I get back in time, we can enjoy it together.”

Suzuki’s expression faltered slightly. “Maybe… if he’s not too busy…”

Chikai patted the boy’s head gently. “He cares about you, Suzu. He’s just trying to make sure you both have a better future.”

“I know,” Suzuki sighed. “I just wish he had more time for me.”

“Sometimes, people get so focused on their goals that they forget the important things around them,” Chikai said softly. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

Suzuki looked up at him, eyes filled with determination. “I’ll make sure Kuremu remembers. We’ll have fun together, no matter what!”

Chikai smiled, a rare, genuine smile. “That’s the spirit, Suzu. Now, how about we get you a snack from the market?”

Suzuki’s face lit up. “Yes, please!”

As they walked back toward the blacksmith’s shop, Chikai felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Perhaps, he thought, redemption wasn’t just about making up for past mistakes. Maybe it was also about finding moments of joy in the present and sharing them with those who mattered.

“Chikai, why are you always so serious?” Suzuki beamed as he stared up to Chikai, a bag of treats in hand, causing Chikai to look down to Suzuki in surprise, not holding a response he felt appropriate.

“I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

Chikai paused, thinking about how to answer. “I want to protect the people I care about. Sometimes that means I have to focus and work hard, even if it makes me seem serious.”

Suzuki nodded thoughtfully. “Like Kuremu? He’s always training too. But he still makes time to play with me sometimes.”

“Yes, like Kuremu.” Chikai said abruptly. “ Come on, Suzu. Let’s head to the meeting point. Maybe you can see Kuremu before we leave.”

Suzuki nodded eagerly, holding Chikai’s hand as they walked together.