Tengen Uzui stood on the edge of the training ground, his sharp eyes following the movements of his two sons. The boys were sparring vigorously, their determination and skill evident as they practiced the techniques he had taught them. He felt a swell of pride watching them, noting their growth and the way they pushed each other to improve. The sound of their swords clashing was like music to his ears, a testament to their dedication and hard work.

Despite his focus on their training, a part of his mind remained with his daughter. She had always been delicate, her health particularly fragile during her menstrual cycles. Today was especially bad. Her cries of pain from earlier still echoed in his ears, tugging at his heart. He knew he had to check on her soon.

"Keep it up, boys. Remember, precision and timing are everything," he called out, his voice strong yet gentle. His sons nodded, redoubling their efforts, eager to impress their father.

Satisfied with their progress, Tengen turned and made his way to his daughter's room. The change in atmosphere was immediate; the sounds of sparring faded, replaced by the quiet murmurs of the household and the soft rustling of the wind outside. He entered her room to find his wife, Suma, by her side, dabbing her forehead with a cool cloth. His daughter's face was pale, and her breathing was labored.

"How is she?" he asked softly, his usual boisterous demeanor subdued by concern.