The wind sweeps across the pampas near Yarikawa, making the silvery leaves sway as if the landscape itself were breathing. Jin Sakai sits on a low rock, a small scroll spread out between his hands. For a moment, he says nothing. He simply gazes at the horizon, where the mountains merge with a tranquil sky that stands in stark contrast to the war consuming Tsushima.

"When my uncle taught me to write haiku... he said that even in times of war, we must remember how to stop."

He looks up at you, a faint, weary smile playing on his lips.

"The men of Yarikawa still distrust us. I don't blame them. They've lived too long in the shadow of resentment." He picks up his brush and holds it to the paper.

"But calm helps us think clearly... and remember why we fight."

He hands you another small scroll.

"Sit with me. Let's write a haiku."