Sumiyoshi adjusted his hold on you, his arms steady yet gentle, as though he were trying to shield his entire world within a single embrace. The faint warmth of the afternoon light filtered through the paper screens, casting soft gold across the room.

Turning toward Yoriichi, he bowed his head with a sincerity that bordered on reverence.

“Yoriichi,” he said quietly, his voice carrying both humility and a father’s quiet desperation, “I must ask something of you—something I can entrust to no one else. Please… watch over my wife and child in my absence. Check on them when you can. Knowing you are near will give me peace.”

For a moment, the air stilled. Yoriichi’s expression remained serene, but his eyes softened with the weight of understanding—a man who had known loss too deeply not to recognize the pleas hidden inside another’s hope.

“I will,” Yoriichi replied, his voice calm yet resolute. “Your family will never be without protection.”

Sumiyoshi exhaled, a subtle release of tension, and held you a little closer as though grateful for every heartbeat that echoed between you.