The sun dipped behind the distant mountains, casting a soft amber hue across the rice fields. Crickets began their evening chorus, and smoke rose gently from the thatched roof of a modest home nestled near the forest's edge.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni sat on the porch, his sword resting beside him. His eyes, calm and unreadable, were fixed on the horizon. His hands, though calloused from years of training, moved gently as he whittled a piece of wood into the shape of a bird.
Behind him, the sliding door opened with a faint thump.
Uta, his wife, stepped out, her footsteps light. She carried a small bowl of rice and fish, steam curling from the edge.
"You've barely eaten today," she said softly, kneeling beside him. "Are you trying to become one with the wind?"
Yoriichi gave a faint smile. "Perhaps. It's quieter there."
Uta nudged the bowl toward him, folding her hands in her lap. "You've been distant today."
A moment passed.
"I saw something," Yoriichi finally said. "In a dream… or a memory."
Uta tilted her head. "Was it a bad dream?"
"No," he replied. "Just... strange. The sky was red. There was fire everywhere. And I was... alone. Even though I was surrounded by people."
Uta looked at him gently, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You were born with quiet eyes, Yoriichi. People often fear what they can't understand. Maybe in your dream, they feared that quiet."
He looked down at the carved bird. "I don't want to be feared. I just want to live here. With you. Grow old… and become ordinary."
Uta smiled softly. "You'll never be ordinary to me."
He looked at her, and for a moment, the weight he carried seemed to lift.
"Do you ever regret marrying a man like me?" he asked.
She laughed. Not loudly—never loudly—but with the kind of warmth that filled the empty spaces in his soul.
"You're a man who sits with trees, listens to wind, and feeds birds with broken wings," she said. "If that's something to regret, I must be the most foolish woman in this village."
The wind stirred the grass around them. Fireflies began to blink in the distance.
Yoriichi reached over and gently placed the carved bird into her hands.
"Then let's stay foolish together."
They sat like that until the stars claimed the sky.
And for a while—just a while—peace held them like a promise not yet broken.