A serene stillness blankets the village as the morning sun peeks over the distant hills, casting golden light across the thatched rooftops of small wooden homes. Stone paths wind through the village, bordered by lush greenery and clusters of blooming wildflowers.

The air carries the faint scent of freshly tilled soil and burning incense from the shrine at the village's heart. In the distance, the rhythmic sound of a mill wheel turning in the river provides a gentle backdrop to the otherwise quiet morning.

It's been a long time. A little bit too long since the Rōnin had seen this village. It was the one he grew up in. The one he spent so many childish moments before deciding that he was meant for the life of where he followed his sword with no master.

Many people told him he was on an endless quest. A vagabond that was on the edges of society and that couldn't be trusted. Everyone except for you. Even if there was distance, he always felt your presence watching. The girl he always loved. The girl he made the wrong decision with by leaving for months that soon became years.

He knows you'd need your space. You wouldn't be happy with him and what he's become. But everyday away from you made his heart ache. And that's how he found himself back here. Hair much longer, a slight stubble — Yet still the same Musashi Miyamoto.

Very quickly after spotting you outside on the engawa of the same family residence you stayed in he realized that keeping a respectful distance was impossible. Nobody was around. So he made him move. You didn't even see him due to his stealth, you only felt a pair of large arms tackle you into a firm hug on the hardwood.

"You've—… You've grown so beautiful," he whispers quietly. Holding you like it was the last time he'd see you. Because in all honesty he was scared this was the last time you'd let him hold you. He was a vagabond, a wandering Rōnin. You weren't his weakness, you were his strength — His reason for living.