Hiru had a dream.
In it, he returned to his childhood.
Back then, he had just come to this family and often felt terrified because of his father's harshness.
[You're just an adopted child. You don't actually think changing your surname to Tsugikuni makes you one of us, do you?]
[A mere adopted son—all you need is the mindset to sacrifice for the family. Stop wasting time on useless things!]
[You're just an adopted son. You don't need to learn these things—they're meant for the heir, Michikatsu.]
Those were the words his father most often said to him.
But when their father wasn't paying attention, Michikatsu would secretly whisper to him, [Don't worry, Hiru. I'll protect you. Mother said you're my brother.]
[Are you scared? It's alright. I'll protect you. I'll never sacrifice my family.]
[What you're learning isn't useless. One day, you'll be able to assist me. When I become the head of the family, I'll have Father release Brother Yoriichi from the attic. Then the three of us brothers will surely bring glory to the Tsugikuni clan!]
That was the first time Hiru learned the name of his other brother.
[Why won't Father let Brother Yoriichi live with us?]
[Hmm... It seems Father thinks Yoriichi's birthmark is a bad omen. But I don't believe he's unlucky!] Michikatsu had pondered for a long while before adding, [You know, Yoriichi still can't speak even now. He's always quiet, but he's a gentle person. If you're ever afraid of Father, and Mother and I aren't around, you can go find Yoriichi. He'll welcome you, and he'll protect you just like I do. Most importantly, Father never goes near that place unless he has to—he doesn't want to see Yoriichi. So when you're scared, go there.]
[...But why? Why would Brother Yoriichi protect me?]
[Do you really need to ask?] Michikatsu smiled and ruffled Hiru's hair. [Because it's only natural for an older brother to protect his younger brother.]
After that, every time Father scolded or berated him, Hiru would go find Yoriichi.
Although Yoriichi always looked at him with an empty expression, he never turned him away. Instead, he would sit quietly beside him and occasionally reach out to gently pat his head, smiling just like Michikatsu did, soothing his panicked heart.
They rarely spoke, but that quiet companionship alone was enough to bring comfort.
Unlike Michikatsu and himself, however, Yoriichi wasn't allowed to freely step outside his small three-tatami-mat space. He could barely ever see the world beyond those walls.
It was then that Hiru first thought of painting.
[If I draw everyone and everything, then even if Father won't let Yoriichi outside, he can still see the world through my drawings.]
Hiru told his mother about this with great earnestness.
Akeno was delighted. She brought him paper and brushes, and with a gentle smile said, "Then make sure you draw me beautifully."
Hiru worked hard to draw her, though his strokes were so childish that one could barely tell it was a person in a kimono.
Still, Akeno praised his effort warmly. Encouraged, Hiru went to find Michikatsu next.
Michikatsu happily agreed, telling him to come draw while he studied at night—he wanted Hiru to capture his "handsome side" to show Yoriichi. But the finished drawing ended up as a jumble of messy lines resembling a boy slumped over a desk.
After adding Michikatsu to the picture, Hiru drew himself as well. Since he used his reflection in the water as reference, his lines were even more uneven and curved.
When only Father remained, Hiru—too afraid to draw openly—secretly observed him and added his figure in broken lines. The man's form loomed immense, drawn so large it towered over the other three combined.
But just as he was about to give the drawing to Yoriichi, his father caught him. The picture he had worked so hard on for days was torn to shreds in an instant.
[Just as I thought—you're a wild child! Wasting your time on such useless nonsense. Toys like these will only ruin your spirit! Get back to your room and start copying books! You're not coming out until you've copied a hundred!]
Later, Michikatsu told Akeno about what happened, so Hiru didn't have to copy all those books. But when his confinement ended, he couldn't help but run to Yoriichi and cry.
That was the first time Hiru heard Yoriichi's voice.
"Don't cry. I'll protect you."
Yoriichi's voice was soft and kind—the kind that made one want to lean into it, to trust it completely.
Only then did Hiru realize Yoriichi wasn't mute; he simply wasn't good at expressing himself.
Not long after, Michikatsu was slapped and confined for three days after defending Yoriichi and scolding their father for destroying Hiru's painting.
Almost as if in defiance, Michikatsu carved a short flute for Yoriichi while in confinement, and spent his allowance to buy stacks of paper and brushes for Hiru, telling him to keep drawing—whatever he wanted.
Of course, he was punished again and locked up once more.
Later, when Father saw Yoriichi constantly clinging to their mother whenever he was allowed outside, he furiously scolded him. That argument led to a huge fight between their parents, and Mother ultimately won Yoriichi more freedom to go out. It was then that Yoriichi's natural talent finally began to show.
But things didn't get better.
Their father, blinded by ambition, abandoned Michikatsu in favor of Yoriichi. Another argument broke out between their parents, and in the midst of all that chaos—Yoriichi left.
Hiru would never forget the short letter he left behind.
[Hiru, I'm sorry. Please think of me as dead.]
Hiru jolted awake from the long flood of memories.
"What... Why am I remembering all this..." He covered his face. "It's been so long. I should've forgotten by now."
"Forgotten what?"
A gentle, familiar voice came from beside him. "Did you have a nightmare? Miss Tamayo said you haven't been doing well."
"Brother?"
Hiru turned around, joy flickering in his eyes—only for his expression to freeze. His voice broke with disbelief, the shock so great it distorted his tone. "You... how... how...?"
Yoriichi sat by the window, his back to the light. His hair was still pure white, his crimson haori glowing vividly beneath the warm afternoon sun—but his face had returned to the handsome youthfulness of long ago.
The white-haired swordsman turned slightly, the light outlining his graceful features and the blazing mark on his forehead. In that moment, he appeared sacred and untouchable.
"Hiru," Yoriichi said softly, "let's walk on together."