The next morning, commanders met in a tense tent discussion.
"He doesn't shout."
"He doesn't flinch."
"He doesn't miss."
"He moves without sound."
"He's a blade in human form."
That phrase stuck.
When Sataro walked into camp that afternoon, exhausted and confused by everyone staring at him, a veteran approached, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"Well done, kid."
"You've earned yourself a name."
Sataro blinked. "A name?"
The soldier grinned.
"The Silent Blade."
Cheers and whispers spread around the camp instantly.
Sataro felt heat rise in his chest — pride, shock, disbelief.
"Silent… Blade?" he repeated.
"Yes," the soldier said. "Because death comes quiet when you're near."
For the first time in months, Sataro smiled.
He felt seen.
He felt valued.
He felt like he was becoming the man he dreamed of being.
He had no idea the king had taken notice.
No idea why he was being watched.
No idea what his bloodline really meant.
To Sataro, everything still felt right.
Everything still felt good.
Everything still felt like home.
The Summons
That evening, as Sataro cleaned his sword, a messenger approached him.
"You've been summoned," the man said. "By order of King Sable."
Sataro's heart jumped.
"The king… wants to see me?"
"Yes. Personally."
Sataro stood tall, excitement swelling in his chest.
This was an honor he never expected.
This was the moment he believed his parents would be proud.
He grabbed his sword, straightened his posture, and followed the messenger toward the king's camp —
completely unaware that this day would change his destiny forever.
The day Sataro left, Haruto stood in the middle of the orphanage yard holding the edge of Sataro's cloak.
"Don't go," he whispered.
Sataro placed his hand on Haruto's head. "I'll come back stronger. For both of us."
Haruto didn't trust his voice enough to speak.
So he just nodded, even though everything in him begged Sataro to stay.
And then… Sataro was gone.
A Quiet That Didn't Feel Right
The orphanage felt different without Sataro.
Too quiet.
Too slow.
Too empty.
Haruto sat on his bed the first night, pulling the blanket over his head, trying not to cry.
"I'm not a baby," he whispered to himself.
He cried anyway.
Haruto the Menace Returns
By the third day, Haruto's emotions had turned into explosive energy.
He couldn't sit still.
Couldn't sleep.
Couldn't think.
So chaos became his coping mechanism.
On Day 4, Haruto tried to cook.
He burned water.
On Day 6, he chased a chicken to "train his reflexes."
The chicken bit him.
Then chased him around the yard while he screamed.
On Day 9, Renzo found him on the roof.
"What are you doing up there?" the old man yelled.
"I'm learning how to see far distances like Sataro!"
"You're going to fall and die!"
"No I'm no—"
He fell.
He did not die.
He did twist his ankle.
Renzo carried him inside while muttering prayers to every god he could think of.
Haruto grinned the whole time.
"Thanks, Chief."
Renzo groaned.
"Why are you like this?"
Haruto shrugged. "I miss my brother."
The answer made Renzo grow quiet.
The Letters
Every week, a letter from Sataro arrived.
Haruto would snatch it instantly, run to his room, and read it over and over.
"Sataro said he fought in a real battle!"
"He said he got stronger again!"
"He said he met a captain who called him a prodigy!"
"He said he misses me!"
He carried the letters everywhere — to meals, to chores, even into the bath (Renzo had to rescue one before it drowned).
At night, he slept with the letters under his pillow.
But as the months went on…
the letters came less often.
Sometimes a week late.
Sometimes two.
Haruto never said anything aloud, but each time he checked the mailbox and found nothing, his shoulders sank a little lower.
School Begins
Renzo finally enrolled Haruto in the local school to give him structure.
Haruto hated it.
On the first day, he sat down and immediately knocked his desk over.
On the second day, he forgot his lunch and tried to barter a stick for a sandwich.
On the third day, he accidentally punched a kid while stretching.
By the fourth week, Haruto had been in detention seven times.
The teacher sighed whenever he walked in.
"Oh no… it's him again."
But there was one thing Haruto excelled at:
Defending people.
When older kids bullied someone smaller, Haruto always stepped in.
He didn't win every time.
But he never backed down.
"You're too small to be picking fights," Renzo scolded one day.
Haruto wiped blood from his nose. "Sataro always says protect the weak."
Renzo froze.
"…He did, didn't he?"
Haruto nodded proudly. "And I'm gonna be like him."
Renzo didn't argue.
Waiting for News
One stormy evening, Haruto sat by the window, chin on his knees, watching rain pound the dirt road.
Sataro hadn't written in three weeks.
Renzo approached quietly. "Still no letter?"
Haruto shook his head.
"He's strong, Haruto," Renzo said softly. "He'll be fine."
Haruto forced a smile.
"I know."
He didn't know.
He was terrified.
Trouble Grows
As Sataro gained fame on the battlefield, Haruto gained… a reputation.
Villagers whispered:
"That boy… he's reckless."
"He's sweet, but he's trouble."
"Runs on rooftops, fights bigger kids, talks back…"
Haruto didn't hear most of it.
He was too busy trying not to fall off things.
But he did hear the same thing over and over:
"He needs guidance… where is his brother?"
That question hit him every time.
Haruto's Breaking Point
One night, after another fight at school, Haruto sat alone behind the orphanage barn.
Rain soaked his clothes.
His knuckles were scraped.
His knee was bleeding.
He wasn't crying — not fully — but his breath shook.
"Why hasn't he written…" he whispered.
He punched the ground.
"Why isn't he coming home…"
Another punch.
"Why does everyone get to have their family except me—"
His voice cracked.
He curled up, arms around his knees.
"I just want my brother back…"
Renzo found him there, silent and shivering.
The old man didn't say anything.
He simply sat beside him and placed his coat over Haruto's shoulders.
Haruto didn't move.
Didn't talk.
He stared ahead at the rain.
And for the first time in his life…
the spark inside him dimmed.
A Letter Arrives
The next morning, a courier rushed up the orphanage hill.
"Letter for Haruto!"
Haruto bolted so fast he tripped twice.
His hands shook as he opened it.
Haruto,
I'm doing well. My unit calls me something funny now —
"The Silent Blade." You'd laugh.
I'm getting stronger every day. I'll come home one day even stronger than that.
Be good. Don't cause trouble. And take care of Renzo for me.
— Sataro
Haruto pressed the letter to his chest.
A tiny spark relit inside him.
"Silent Blade, huh…" he whispered.
"That's so cool…"
For the first time in weeks, he smiled.
A real one.