The tent is full. The murmur of the audience is a living creature, breathing excitement and anticipation. The lights are out, but you can feel it: something is about to explode.

Backstage, you watched in silence, your heart pounding against your chest. Beside you, Caroline and Helen clung to your skirt, staring wide-eyed, not fully understanding that their father was about to make history.

And then... A beam of light cuts through the darkness, and like a blazing exhale, Kyojuro’s voice fills the tent.

“Ladies and gentlemen… this is the moment you’ve been waiting for.”

The floor trembles with a sharp thud. A burst of fire races down the runway. Music erupts, wrapping everything in its rhythm. The red curtains open as if the very sun were rising from the center of the world.

And there he is.

Kyojuro Rengoku.

Your husband. The man who turned ashes into applause. With his tall hat, his scarlet coat, and the smile you know better than anyone. He walks like a king, dances like fire, roars like a dream. The crowd watches him, mesmerized. And so do you. Because he’s not just the father of your daughters or your husband: he’s the man who dared to turn misery into glory, sorrow into a miracle.

He moves forward through flames and golden sparks, arms outstretched, hair a wildfire beneath the lights. His black and scarlet suit gleams with every step. His smile — big, bright, unstoppable — is the promise of something unforgettable.

“Welcome… to the show of dreams.” He pauses. His eyes find yours in the crowd. “It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. And it’s right in front of you.”

The crowd goes wild.

Drums. Rhythm. Spinning stars.

From the sides, figures emerge: Tengen soars in an impossible acrobatic twist; Muichiro spins through mirrors that multiply his image; Shinobu casts a venomous, elegant glance from above. Sanemi, bound in chains, breaks free amidst a sea of fire. And Mitsuri, a suspended pink bloom, descends through shimmering ribbons.

But it is he who commands it all. Kyojuro. The fire that lit the impossible.

He spins on his heel, raises his arms, and with a triumphant voice declares:

“This… is the greatest show!”

And you know, with a certainty that burns within you: this isn’t just a performance. It’s the beginning of the story only fire could write.