One week had passed, yet Rin retained only fragmented memories of the night her mother died.
The one thing that remained burned into her mind was the utter silence of that evening.
The summer sky was cool, veiled by a single, brilliantly shining moon.
As usual, after wiping her mother’s body with a damp cloth and preparing to let her rest, Rin saw Akane—who had been lying with her eyes closed—suddenly sit up.
For the past six months, the cruel illness had eaten away at Akane until only skin and bones remained.
The graceful woman usually lay weak, rarely fully conscious, let alone able to speak with others.
But that night, Akane moved with astonishing energy.
There was no trace of her usual frailty.
Even her sunken cheeks suddenly flushed with an unnatural redness.
The phenomenon felt deeply wrong.
Rin knew the medical term for this condition: the final flicker of a lantern before its oil ran completely dry.
Rin immediately understood that her mother had reached the end of her life.
“Mother! I’ll get you some warm water…”
“Rin, come here.”
In the creeping panic, Akane did not ask Rin to run and call the physician.
Instead, her thin fingers slowly beckoned her to sit closer beside the bed.
“Mother has always known that you were the wisest child since you were little.”
Akane’s voice flowed slowly, as if every word she spoke was a precious remnant of breath she still possessed.
“You are intelligent and possess a strong will. A child like you will surely be able to live well no matter where you are in the future…”
“Mother…”
Akane’s thin fingers rose, gently removing the emerald-green jade hairpin shaped like three leaves from Rin’s small bun.
She stroked the jade carving repeatedly with her fingertips, examining it carefully under the moonlight streaming through the window, before finally placing it back into Rin’s hair with great care.
Gazing at her youngest daughter’s face, Akane’s eyes suddenly flooded with deep, overwhelming pity.
She pulled Rin into her embrace, resting her sharp chin on her daughter’s slender shoulder, and whispered directly into her ear.
“Mother knows you hate the political marriage Father arranged. Mother knows you don’t want to be paired with that old man.”
Akane’s breath felt warm yet broken against the curve of Rin’s neck.
“But, my foolish girl… no matter what, you are a daughter of the Tsugikuni clan.”
Rin felt her mother’s body pressing heavier against her.
“Our neighboring clan possesses immense military power. Forming a blood tie through you is crucial for our clan’s future. Rin, you were born to enjoy the luxury and honor of the Tsugikuni name, so it is only right that you bear its burdens. Sacrificing yourself when the clan needs it… that is the absolute rule for those who stand at the pinnacle of power.”
“Mother?”
Feeling Rin’s small body begin to tremble violently in her arms, Akane’s tears finally spilled, soaking their kimonos.
Yet the woman did not stop speaking.
Her weak hand gently stroked the top of Rin’s head, continuing in an increasingly urgent whisper.
“Because there are some destinies in this world that we can never fight against, the only way to survive is to learn to accept them…”
Akane’s voice grew hoarser, caught in her throat.
“Only then can you steady your heart so it doesn’t break, even if the reality you must face doesn’t match your dreams… Do you understand, my child?”
Faced with the choice between her daughter’s happiness and the clan’s future, Akane ultimately chose the latter.
For the survival of the Tsugikuni clan, she chose to bury her own daughter’s future.
Because she was not only a mother to Rin, but also a matriarch bound by loyalty to her husband’s great name.
“Cough…! Cough! Cough!”
“Mother?!”
“Rin, listen to me carefully…”
Akane’s breathing suddenly became ragged and irregular.
Violent, bloody coughs shook her chest from the stabbing pain, but the woman paid it no mind.
She leaned heavily on Rin’s frail shoulders within their embrace, drew a deep breath, and spoke in a hurried rush as if chased by time itself.
“What troubles Mother most about leaving this world… is your two older brothers.”
Rin felt her mother’s grip on her shoulders tighten until her nails dug into her skin.
“Unlike you, your two brothers are too stubborn and blinded by their egos. They are like two sharp thorns placed in the same container… they will always unintentionally hurt each other.”
Akane paused, gasping for air.
“If things continue like this, those two brothers of yours will surely end up destroying each other… *cough*!”
“Mother, please stop talking. I’ll call the physician right now…”
“Rin, listen to Mother! After I’m gone, you must look after your two brothers. You are the bridge between them. Reunite their hearts and make sure they live together in peace. Never let the seeds of hatred grow between them. Do you understand?!”
Akane’s voice rose, filled with utter desperation.
“If you don’t… this clan, the Tsugikuni name… it will surely… surely be destroyed…”
The voice cut off abruptly.
The heavy weight that had been leaning on Rin’s shoulder suddenly lost all strength.
The arms that had been tightly embracing her slowly loosened and fell limply to the side of the bed.
Akane’s head slid gently, coming to rest on Rin’s lap with her eyes still half-open.
One second… two seconds… three seconds…
Nearly half a minute passed in suffocating silence.
Rin could only stare rigidly at her mother’s face, now completely devoid of the spark of life, resting in her lap.
Her mother was gone.
After pouring out a long string of heart-wrenching words, the woman had simply left her in the darkness.
“Big Brother Yoriichi? When did you arrive?”
Rin asked in a hoarse, nearly spent voice, breaking the night’s silence as she noticed a silhouette standing near the sliding door.
“Just now.”
Yoriichi answered softly, his tone flat and eerily calm.
The boy did not step into the room.
He simply stood motionless at the threshold, letting his clear eyes pierce through the darkness and stare straight at Akane’s stiff body on the tatami.
No tears.
No cries of grief.
Not even a single crack of emotion on his face.
After staring in long silence, Yoriichi finally shifted his gaze and looked directly at Rin.
“Rin, I’m leaving.”
His voice was so flat it sounded like he was only saying goodbye for some trivial errand.
“Leaving? Where are you going, Big Brother?”
“I’m going to the temple tonight.”
Yoriichi answered without the slightest hesitation.
“Father intends to make me the clan’s heir. That is a reality Michikatsu will never be able to accept. He has dreamed of becoming a great samurai since he was a child.”
A faint, almost invisible ripple of helplessness finally appeared on Yoriichi’s flat face.
He continued in an extremely gentle voice:
“I don’t want to steal Big Brother’s dream. Going to the temple to become a monk is the best solution for both of us.”
After finishing his sentence, Yoriichi lowered his gaze, avoiding Rin’s sharp stare.
That action immediately made Rin realize the inner turmoil her brother was hiding.
She quickly stood up, closed the distance in wide strides, and firmly gripped both of Yoriichi’s small shoulders.
“Big Brother Yoriichi, look me in the eyes. Are you truly willing to shave your head, lock yourself away in a remote temple, and spend the rest of your life as an isolated monk?”
“I…”
Seeing the clear anxiety and pain in her little sister’s eyes, Yoriichi opened his mouth.
He hesitated for a moment, but his inherent innocence made the boy choose honesty.
“I don’t know.”
Deep confusion surfaced in the depths of his eyes.
Yoriichi slowly shook his head, then gently but firmly removed Rin’s fingers from his shoulders.
“I might wander somewhere else… but no matter what, for Big Brother Michikatsu’s sake, I will never set foot in Tsugikuni territory again.”
Yoriichi had steeled his heart to leave that night, even though he himself didn’t yet know where the wind would carry his small body.