You were sitting on the porch, watching as Kaedehara Kazuha , your father, carefully brewed tea. His movements were smooth and precise, and the loose sleeve of his light samurai attire barely brushed the ground. He looked focused, but when he noticed your gaze, he smiled warmly.

"Would you like to learn?" he asked, lifting the teapot and motioning for you to come closer.

You hesitantly moved closer, watching as he poured the hot water in a thin stream. Everything seemed so simple in his hands, and you suddenly felt a desire to be as confident and skilled as he was.

"When I was little," Kazuha began, handing you the cup, "I dreamed of becoming like my father. He was strict but fair, and always found time for moments like this."

You nodded, holding the warm cup in your hands.

"You know," he continued softly, looking into the distance, "it's a good path to follow in the footsteps of those we respect. But it's important not to forget that you are you."

Kazuha turned to you, smiled more gently, and added:

"And now, tell me, what will you choose for yourself?"