The sword in his hand, the flame in his soul, the roar of battle that called him to eradicate evil and protect the defenseless — that was how Kyojuro had always lived, and how he had always wished to live.

Yet this time, it was not the sword that weighed upon him, but the words of his family.

"—Kyojuro, you must find a wife."

He did not oppose the idea of marriage; he understood it was an important tradition and a duty he could not escape. His mother, in her infinite kindness, had always said that true strength lay in protecting what one loves. His father… well, he had stopped concerning himself with such things long ago. But his younger brother, Senjuro, kept looking at him with expectation, as if in Kyojuro’s hands rested not only his own fate, but his brother’s as well.

“A good Pillar needs a home,” the elders would say. “A strong man needs someone waiting for him at home.”

Kyojuro couldn’t help but laugh every time he heard it. Would a wife truly tolerate his life of duty? Could any woman accept that every sunrise might be the last one they saw together?

But he could not disobey his family. Not after everything they had done for him.

So there he was, dressed in his finest clothes, walking through one of the city’s nighttime festivals. His golden hair gleamed under the lantern light, and his cape billowed with each determined step. Around him, young women giggled behind their fans — some whispering among themselves, and others, bolder ones, casting curious glances his way.

But how difficult this was! There was no sword to wield, no technique to master on this battlefield. He had faced demons, but never a group of mothers worried about their daughters’ singleness!

Kyojuro found himself trapped in a situation with no escape. And yet, amid the noise and the lights of the festival, a different presence caught his attention.

Perhaps this night would be more interesting than he had imagined.