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❃𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽  𝓘 𝓫𝓮 𝓪 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂
𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 ❃

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"Anyway!" Akimitsu's lively voice snapped Akira out of his thoughts. "Enough about me and my sexy, thrilling life. How's everything at SSE? Anything exciting happen recently?"

Akira paused, his mind immediately drifting to Huan. But Akira didn't feel like getting into any of that with his uncle, not right now.

"Nothing much," Akira replied, "Just... training and classes. You know how it is."

Akimitsu didn't miss a beat, his tone turning teasing, "No crushes, no hook-ups?" he giggled. "Come on, you're at SSE. The place is crawling with hot cultivators and what not."

Akira's face flushed instantly as the image of Huan all sweaty from training popped into his mind. "One... I guess," he admitted reluctantly.

"Only one?!" Akimitsu's voice rose, almost making Akira pull the phone away from his ear. "When I was your age, I was the biggest slut at SSE. Seriously, every other day there was a new cock in mouth. And here you are with just one little crush?" He tsked dramatically, and Akira gagged at the imagery created in his mind. "You're as boring as your father."

Akira winced at the comparison. Of all things, he hated being likened to his father. The man was a cold, distant figure who never seemed to care about anything beyond duty and honor. Akira, on the other hand, was quieter, more reserved but still was a little fun. He enjoyed solitude, but even in his isolation, he felt the sting of loneliness. He wanted to make friends, but something always held him back, that gnawing anxiety about reaching out. It was easier to be alone, even if it sometimes hurt.

"So... who is this crush of yours?" Akimitsu pressed, his tone practically dripping with amusement.

Akira bit his lip, his heart speeding up slightly at the thought of Huan. He hesitated for a moment before replying, "...Just someone I met at SSE."

"Someone you met?" Akimitsu repeated, clearly unimpressed. "And that's it? Come on, Akira, you're killing me here. No details?"

"Yeah, that's it," Akira mumbled, his cheeks still burning. Wanting to change the subject quickly, he asked, "How are the others?"

Akimitsu sighed. "Oh, they're fine. Your auntie Hanako and Takashi are off to Senbai. Apparently, there have been sightings of a umibōzu out there near Miyagi Prefecture. It's been causing all kinds of trouble, so they're heading over to deal with it."

Akira raised his eyebrows. "A umibōzu? That's rare. What about Uncle Daichi and Father?"

"They're still in Aokigahara—The Dead Forest. But don't worry, they're fine. They've dealt with far worse than a few wandering spirits. They'll be back soon."

"Aokigahara?" Akira's concern deepened. "Are they okay?"

"Of course, they're fine," Akimitsu replied, his voice nonchalant. "You know your father. He wouldn't come back unless the job was done, and Daichi's the same way."

Akira nodded to himself, feeling a little relieved. If his uncle wasn't worried, then he didn't need to be either. "Alright... well, I'm glad they're okay."

"Well, I should go now," Akimitsu said, his tone brightening again. "Take care of yourself, and try to have a little more fun, okay? You're only young once!"

"I'll try," Akira said, his smile faint but polite.

"Also," Akimitsu began, "I nearly forgot to tell you! I'm sending my old katana to you."

Akira sat up straighter, blinking in surprise. "What? Why?" His heart raced at the thought. People didn't just gift old katanas—they had to be earned, their worth proven through years of training and dedication. And Akira, well, he certainly didn't feel worthy of such an honor. His uncle was the epitome of skill and elegance, everyone loves him. Everything Akira wasn't. If he accepted the sword, he would have to live up to that.

Akimitsu chuckled softly, clearly amused by Akira's shock. "Don't worry. I wanted to give it to you for coming first in your examination. Honestly, I would've sent it sooner if I hadn't been called away for that mission in outer space. You deserve it."

Akira's throat tightened, and he found himself unable to respond immediately. He just listened as his uncle continued.

"Besides, I barely use it anymore," Akimitsu went on. "I don't have the time to maintain it, and I figured you'd get more use out of it than I ever will now."

Akira stared at the floor, his mind racing. A katana was more than just a weapon; it was a legacy. It carried the weight of generations, of tradition and expectation. His current katana, the one he'd had since he was thirteen, already felt like a heavy burden. How could he possibly bear the responsibility of wielding Akimitsu's sword?

"Not to mention," his uncle added with a teasing lilt, "the katana you have now is practically a child's sword. You're a man now, Akira. It's time you had a blade worthy of that."

Akira's heart sank at those words. A man. He didn't feel like one. He would've preferred to stay a boy forever, to remain in that simpler time when the world hadn't yet shown him how hard and harsh it could be.

Akimitsu's voice softened as he continued, "Moreover, your grandfather's not dying anytime soon, so it's not like your father's going to pass his sword down to you anytime soon either. And me? Well, let's just say I don't exactly have the... facilities to pass anything down."

Akira forced a smile. "Right," he murmured. "Well... I need to go. Bye."

"Bye, Akira! Take care of that sword when it arrives, okay?"

"Yeah," Akira replied absently as he ended the call.

He sighed heavily and set his phone on its automatic charger before rising from the bed. The room felt stifling, his thoughts buzzing in circles as he made his way to the bathroom. The cool tiles under his feet and the hum of the shower's water offered a small reprieve, but his mind continued to swirl with memories as he stepped into the stream.

As the water poured over him, Akira's thoughts drifted back to his childhood, to a time when everything felt simpler, peaceful. He remembered the days when he was just a boy, when his biggest concern was learning how to properly hold a sword. There had been laughter in the estate, soft light filtering through the sliding paper doors as his grandparents watched him train in the courtyard. The scent of tea brewing in the background, the gentle rustling of wind through the cherry blossoms—it had been so serene back then.

And Jia Yuxi. He was alive, and everything seemed warmer because of it. Akimitsu had been different then—happier, more present. Akira remembered watching them together, their quiet moments in the garden or during festivals. It wasn't just physical between them, it was something deeper—something Akira admired but never fully understood as a child.

Akira leaned against the tiled wall, his forehead pressed against the cool surface, letting the memories wash over him like the water cascading down his back. He missed those days. They felt like a lifetime ago, like something out of a dream.

°•°•°•《○●○❃○●○》•°•°•°

The morning was crisp, the air fragrant with the scent of cherry blossoms as they fluttered gently through the breeze. Akira could hardly contain his excitement as he walked along the stone path to his grandparents' Minka. Today was his thirteenth birthday, and something special awaited him—he could feel it in his bones.

Beside him, his cousins and sisters chattered happily. Izumi boasted about swords while Sumari teased him, their lighthearted banter filling the air. Anaki walked beside them, his attention drawn to every fluttering petal, while Makime and Makoshi whispered secrets to each other. Sumiko skipped along behind them, laughing at something only she seemed to find funny. Tendo clung to Akira's sleeve, his small steps hurried as he tried to keep up, and little Himawari toddled along infront, fascinated by everything around her.

"I bet Grandpa's got something huge waiting for you," Izumi said, nudging Akira's arm with a wide grin.

"Maybe," Akira replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but his excitement was hard to hide. His mind was racing with thoughts of the sword he had dreamed of for years. It wasn't just any sword he wanted—it would be his first katana, a symbol of his growth, of his path into the world. His heart pounded at the thought.

As they neared the Minka, the ancient building stood nestled under the cover of cherry blossoms, its wooden beams strong and ageless, much like the family who lived within. Akira felt a surge of reverence as they stepped through the threshold. The door creaked open on its own, revealing the dark interior beyond.

"Ikigai," Anaki murmured.

They stepped inside, and lanterns flickered to life as they entered. The hall was filled with a soft, golden glow, the shadows dancing along the walls. Suddenly, small white fox spirits darted through the air, their forms zipping around them with mischievous glee. Tendo gasped in awe, while Himawari burst into giggles as one of the fox spirits lifted her into the air.

"Himawari!" Akira called, his smile fading with worry as she was whisked away. "Put her down!" He reached out, but the spirit only spun away, laughing softly as it disappeared further into the house.

"They're cute!" Sumiko exclaimed, chasing after the fleeting figures, her excitement boundless.

"They're annoying," Akira muttered under his breath, though deep down, he didn't mind. The fox spirits were part of the magic of his family's home, they have been since the beginning and even their mischief brought a sense of comfort.

Eventually, they reached the room where his grandparents waited. His grandfather sat tall and proud, and his grandmother. Even with that vail, they could tell her kind eyes shone as she smiled at them. A small, lacquered box sat before them, and Akira's heart skipped a beat. This was it.

As he approached, another spirit whizzed past, depositing a giggling Himawari into his grandmother's lap. His grandmother stroked the little girl's hair as Akira knelt before them and bowed, the anticipation nearly overwhelming him. His younger cousins and siblings also did, behind him.

He lifted his head again as his grandfather's spoke, his voice was deep and steady. "Akira, this is for you. A gift, to honor your thirteenth year and the journey ahead."

Akira's hands trembled slightly as he opened the box. Inside lay the katana—his katana. The handle was wrapped in deep red silk, the guard shaped delicately like a cherry blossom. The blade shimmered as Akira unsheathed it, the edge sharp, reflecting the light of the lanterns, and his grey eyes. It was everything he had ever dreamed of and more.

A deep sense of pride and joy welled up inside him. This was his weapon, crafted specifically for him. He wasn't just a boy anymore—he was on the path of becoming a swordsman, part of a long line of warriors who had carried their family's honor for generations.

"This is yours, forged specifically for you," his grandfather explained. "May it serve you well, in both training and life."

Akira bowed again, deeply, unable to hide the smile that spread across his face. He held the sword with reverence, feeling its weight in his hands. It was perfect. Everything he had ever wanted.

"I'll get one next year," Izumi said with a grin, though his eyes were filled with admiration as he looked at the blade.

"You're not old enough yet," Sumiko pointed out, sticking her tongue out at him.

Akira barely heard them. His focus was entirely on the sword in his hands, the weight of it, the feel of the hilt as he held it. His heart swelled with gratitude for his grandparents, for his family, and for the future that lay ahead.

"I'll get one next year! A spritual sword if I cultivate hard enough." Izumi shot back, arms crossed. "Just you wait."

Before Akira could respond, Anaki wandered off into the shadows, mumbling something about finding a fox. Akira sighed, knowing exactly what that meant.

"Anaki's gone again," he muttered, standing up. "I'll go get him."

He ventured into the darker part of the house, following Anaki's soft giggles, he rarely even made sounds. He found him cuddled up with a small, fluffy six-tailed fox spirit in one of the alcoves. The fox spirit purred, curling up in Anaki's lap as he stroked its black fur.

"Anaki, we need to go," Akira said, trying to sound firm, but the sight of the fox spirit relaxing in his arms made him pause.

"But she's so soft, Akira Oni-Chan..." Anaki whined, holding the fox tighter. "I want to keep her."

Akira sighed, knowing this would be difficult. "You can't keep her. Come on, we need to go back."

Reluctantly, Anaki let go of the fox, which scampered away into the shadows. He pouted as Akira led him back to the others, but eventually fell in line as they all headed outside.

Once back in the daylight, the children's mood lightened again. Akira's thoughts drifted to his new katana, he longed to test it, to feel the blade sing as it cut through the air, but before he could, Sumari tugged at his sleeve. "Let's play hide and seek in the grove! The petals are everywhere—it'll be perfect!"

Akira hesitated, his hand still gripping the sword's hilt. He wanted to practice, to test his skill with his new weapon. But the excitement in Sumari's eyes, the laughter of his siblings and cousins, melted his resolve. They were his family, and he couldn't deny them this moment.

"Alright," he said, sheathing the sword with care. "I'll count. You all go hide."

As his cousins and siblings scattered into the cherry blossom grove, their laughter trailing behind them, Akira leaned against a tree, closing his eyes as he began to count. The soft rustling of petals overhead was soothing, and he felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

When he opened his eyes again, ready to begin the search, he spotted two figures walking through the grove ahead. His breath caught in his throat.

It was his uncle Akimitsu, walking hand in hand with Jia Yuxi, his lover. They strolled slowly beneath the canopy of blossoms, their expressions calm, their steps unhurried. Akira watched them in silence, the world around him falling still.

Akimitsu smiled down at Yuxi, his eyes filled with warmth, while Yuxi leaned into him, their bond so effortless, so pure. They spoke quietly, their voices too soft to reach Akira, but the way they moved together, the way they fit so perfectly—it stirred something deep within him.

For a moment, Akira forgot everything else. The joy of his new katana, the excitement of his birthday, even the game of hide and seek—all faded into the background as he watched his uncle and Yuxi. They had something Akira didn't fully understand yet, but he knew one thing for certain.

One day, he thought to himself, I want to find love like that.

A love that was gentle and strong, like the spring breeze that carried the cherry blossoms through the air. A love that brought peace and joy, like the one his uncle and Yuxi shared.

For now, though, there was hide and seek to be played. With a smile, Akira pushed away his thoughts and called out into the grove, beginning his search. But that quiet desire, the dream of finding a love like that one day, lingered in his heart as he moved through the sea of blossoms.

°•°•°•《○●○❃○●○》•°•°•°

Akira stepped out of the washroom, the cool air from the dorm room prickling his damp skin as he ran a towel through his hair. As he padded back into the room, his eyes immediately landed on Huan, who was sitting at his desk.

Huan had one leg propped up on the chair, the other bent as he leaned over a tablet. His face was illuminated by the soft glow of the screen, casting a faint blue light on his features. His brow was furrowed, lips slightly parted as his fingers moved fluidly across the screen, sketching something Akira couldn't quite make out.

With a soft sigh, he moved to his own bed, letting himself fall back onto the mattress with a gentle thud. The sheets were cool against his skin. He stared up at the ceiling, arms spread out beside him, trying to let his mind go blank. But it didn't last long.

He turned his head slightly, eyes drifting over to the desk where Huan sat. The way his slender fingers danced over the tablet's surface made Akira feel a twinge of guilt. Huan was always working on something—always pushing himself. Whether it was designing tech, studying, or practicing martial arts, Huan seemed relentless in his pursuit of something. Perfection, maybe. Or survival. Akira wasn't sure.

He sighed softly, shifting his gaze away from Huan to his own desk, which was cluttered with textbooks, notebooks, and the tablet he barely touched unless he absolutely had to. There were assignments he hadn't started yet, projects looming over him like dark clouds. He knew he should probably be working on them, especially with how intense the academic load at SSE could get. Yet, he couldn't get the motivation.

I should probably do my own assignments, Akira thought, feeling that familiar sinking feeling in his chest. But instead of getting up, he stayed where he was, lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling again.

It wasn't that he didn't care about his studies. It was just... hard to focus. He missed home, he missed his life before the SSE, he wanted to be a kid again.

Why can't I be a silly little teenboy forever?

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