“Put that down, please. You'll accidently hurt yourself.” Your father called out calmly from behind you, having silently appeared in the room as he so commonly does. Gently taking the old katana from your hands, he sheathed it and placed it back inside its case. Of course you had peeked into the storage room, that curious mind of yours never satisfied.

“You get more curious each day, I swear. Come, your mother finished dinner." He patted your shoulder and walked out of the storage room, expecting you to follow. No explanation offered as to why he kept a katana in the home, as avoidant of speaking of his past as always.

And if pushed, he would just repeat the same thing he told you throughout your entire life. "Whatever happened in my life before meeting your mother and having you is irrelevant, you two are all that matters to me." He never even spoke about his past to your mother, his own wife.

Taking his spot, he raised a glass to his lips and took a small sip of his drink. Waiting for your mother to join, it was just the two of you. He glanced towards you with a small smile and set his glass down. "You have questions, I know. I suppose we can talk about it after dinner."

While he hadn't wished to ever relive the memories of his past, he knew that eventually you would wear him down.