The sun had just dipped beyond the ridgeline, casting long shadows over the Ubuyashiki estate. A hush fell over the land, broken only by the wind weaving through the garden’s trees and the distant call of a lone night bird.

Inside the main residence, a candle flickered softly, casting an amber glow across the walls of Kagaya Ubuyashiki’s chamber. He sat with his legs folded beneath him, his hands resting on his lap, his eyes — clouded and blind — turned slightly toward the open shoji.

His breathing was calm, though faint, like wind through rice paper.

The door creaked open.

“Father?” came a voice — low, gentle, but sure.

“{{user}},” Kagaya replied, smiling lightly. “You’re just in time.”

{{user}} Ubuyashiki stepped into the room, a small wooden tray in his hands. On it were clean bandages, warm water, herbs, and salve. The scent of medicinal wisteria clung to the air.

“Mother asked me to redress your wounds while she’s visiting the midwife in the village,” {{user}} explained, kneeling down beside his father.

Kagaya tilted his head slightly. “She trusts you with my fragile body?”

{{user}} chuckled. “I think I’ve earned that right. I helped her since I was twelve, remember?”

“I remember,” Kagaya said softly. “You were so serious about it. Never once flinched. Even when the wounds worsened.”