It was dusk, almost edging toward nighttime. At this time of day, the village was usually livelier and more joyous. The day was filled with activities like schooling for children from families that could afford it, and the trading of specific goods. It was usually during the day that the village gates were opened for people coming and going.
Now it was night. Families had retreated to their abodes, freshened up, and come out again for the night's fun activities. Some went to family dinner parties, others out for a stroll. Children who still had energy found their playmates and continued their games.
The streets and the entire village had suddenly transformed. Each building was well-lit inside and out, candles of different colors making the whole village glow as if it were engulfed in light from afar.
While most shops and trading centers were closed, for some, the night was when they made the most of their daily sales like inns, diners, and, lastly, gambling centers.
"So, what is it going to be, Lord Hakai?" asked the young master, a boy dressed in a royal blue kimono—speaking to a bald, fat man sitting opposite him at a round table.
Seated around the table were three other men, all from wealthy and distinguished families. All five men sat together playing a Japanese card game called Hanafuda, or flower cards a game popular among rich, clever gamblers, relying not only on luck but also on strategy and guts.
In front of Lord Hakai lay his nine cards, none matching so far. One card remained unturned in the corner of the table—this card would decide it all. If it didn't match any of the others, it would mark another loss for him tonight.
"Don't get cocky, brat," Lord Hakai smirked. He reached for his last card, pressed it, and flipped it over. A wide grin spread across his face. "Spring season." He placed it in front of another matching card. Immediately, the other three men played all at once, each revealing matching cards with Lord Hakai's.
"We got you, boy! Now what are you going to do?"
The young master leaned back, furrowing his brows as he clicked his tongue. It wasn't a coincidence they were all against him. Maybe the goal was to defeat him and split the money among themselves. However...
"You were too arrogant for your age, I daresay," one of the men added.
The young master's gaze shifted to the man, then back to the game. He leaned forward, the corner of his lips curling.
"It's not arrogance—it's confidence."
He slowly stretched out his hand to his last card as everyone—both the players and the onlookers—watched in anticipation. He flipped it over, and his small smirk turned into a smile, then a loud laugh.
"It's a spider lily. I win this round again!" He laughed and composed himself. With a snap of his fingers, one of the workers began clearing the table.
"I'm done for today." He stood and faced the men seated around the table. "Tonight was fun. I think I should retire to my chambers—"
"We can still play another round. Or are you scared, young master?" Lord Hakai taunted.
"Scared?!" the young master shouted. "We've played five games tonight and I won all of them flawlessly. Please, tell me—what exactly should I be scared of?"
At the boy's jest, Lord Hakai's smile turned into a deep frown. "You'll regret this, brat!"
"I pray I don't," the young master replied with a smile as he left the table.
At the door, two men joined his side—his personal guards. On nights like this, it was only natural to have a few trusted men accompany you through the rest of the night and for some days to come.
"Where is father?" he asked.
"The Lord is at the high table. Would you like to see him before we—"
"No, no. Just tell him I'm going back home."
***
The young master, together with his two guards, arrived in front of a large wooden gate. On the gate was a beautiful marking—a rare flower design. Above the gates, one could already see the tip of the mansion's roof.
He turned to the guards behind him. "Thank you for accompanying me."
"We are only doing our job, young master," they both said, bowing their heads.
"Right. You two should head back to my father, right?" he asked rhetorically.
"Yes, we will be on our way."
He watched as they departed, then sighed heavily and turned to face the gate, pushing it open and stepping inside. Like any average lord's house in Shogi village, the compound was fairly large.
From the entry point to the mansion was a clean dirt path; to the far left was a pond with a small stone lantern beside it. The young master glanced at the lantern and wondered why it was off, but shrugged it off and moved on.
Climbing onto the wooden veranda and about to slide the door open, he was startled when a light flicked on inside the house. He jolted back. Seeing the shadow cast by the light, he sighed again, this time more bitterly.
He slid the door open and was greeted by a woman—young-looking but likely in her thirties. She was the lady of the house, his master's wife.
"You're late again," she said softly, though her voice held no warmth.
"I'm sorry, I was helping father at the—"
"Helping father with what? Gambling?"
"Father doesn't gamble—"
"I know that too. That's why I want to know exactly what you were doing out at this hour. Akemi and Ayumi are both asleep, yet you were out there gambling and drinking with men double—triple—your age!" she burst out.
The young master took a quiet, deep breath. "I'm sorry, mother—"
"Don't call me that. And don't ever call my husband 'father' again. Now go upstairs before I make you sleep outside tonight."
The young master bowed and went upstairs to his room, ending the day with a forced sleep.
***
The usual hummingbirds on the garden's tree branches woke the young master. He rolled on his futon before dragging himself up. He scanned his almost empty room—just a table and mat in one corner, his futon opposite, and his neatly stacked clothes in another corner.
He pulled himself up and gazed out the window at the tall cherry blossom tree, gradually withering, while the birds carried on with their morning songs. He sighed.
Remembering what the new day would bring, that was all he could do. He tied his long, wavy hair with a band and headed downstairs to the family dining room for breakfast.
He was greeted by the usual scene. His lord's wife and two girls were already at the table, eating. One, with long, light nude-colored hair like her mother's, was Ayumi; the other, with short dark hair, was Akami. Both girls were the Lord's daughters.
When he arrived, Ayumi—ever the cheerful one—accepted him instantly years ago. Her big brown eyes always shone with excitement. Akami hadn't warmed up to him at first but bore no ill will; it was just a distant politeness that had softened over nine years—though some would rather die than admit they'd become a family.
"Good morning, my lady," the young master bowed slightly to the woman, then turned to the girls. "Good morning, Ayumi. Akami—"
"Good morning, big brother!" Ayumi shouted. "More importantly, big brother, you need to try these rice balls—they'll burst your tongue!"
"I will, Ayumi, but I need to wash up first," he said.
"Good morning, big brother," Akami said softly. With a smile, he ruffled her hair. "Good morning, Akami."
He noticed, as always, that the lady of the house paid him little mind. He was used to it and expected nothing more.
Outside, he scooped water from the pond with a big bowl and washed his face. Loosening his hair tie, he poured water over his hair and scrubbed it thoroughly. For a moment, he froze, staring at his reflection, thinking about what had happened yesterday afternoon while preparing for the night's game.
He shook his head. "No, it isn't, big bro," he murmured to himself but kept staring into the water—until he noticed the reflection of a man sneaking up behind him.
"You know I can see you, right... father?" he said, turning.
"Ha! You caught me again. I'm now convinced you have eyes behind your ears," the man laughed, wrapping an arm around the boy.
The man was tall and muscular, with medium-length dark hair and scars on his hands and cheek. He wore a dark kimono bearing the same flower sigil from the gate—Lord Ikemoto Shuichi, head of one of the five families governing Shogi village.
"Tell me, son—what's on your mind? Why were you staring into the water like you saw a darling girl in there?" he asked.
The boy scoffed. "If there was a girl in there, I'd have jumped in already."
"Hahaha! That's my boy!" the man roared, slapping his back. "So, tell me. Was it May? I heard about last night. If it's May, I'll—"
"It wasn't my lady, father. I saw someone yesterday—someone I thought was dead. I don't know if I was seeing things, but for a moment, I was sure of what I saw."
Lord Ikemoto rubbed his chin. "Is this person a girl?"
"No."
"A boy? Then he's better off dead." Lord Ikemoto stood up to leave, but the boy's words stopped him.
"He's not just anybody—he's my brother."
"Are you sure of what you saw?"
"Yes, father."
"Okay then. I'll speak to the gatekeepers. They'll set up a search team to look for your brother. Is that okay?"
"That's more than enough, father." The young master bowed deeply.
"Come on, get up. I heard what you did last night—sucked that old fat bastard dry. Well done, son." The young master chuckled at the praise. "Now come on, let's eat."
"Father, about that..." He glanced back at the house, noticing Akami peeking at them, failing to hide herself well. "...I think I'll eat outside today."
***
The young master of the Ikemoto family walked through the busy streets of Shogi village's commercial area. One hand was tucked under his blue haori, the family sigil on his back; the other swung like a pendulum as he strode.
He stopped in front of a restaurant and flung his clothes open. Inside, it was almost empty—just a few men scattered about. He chose an empty spot and settled in. Soon, a young girl emerged from the back room to attend to him.
"Welcome—" She paused, noticing the sigil. "Welcome to our establishment, young master Ikemoto."
"Thank you," he said quickly, glancing around and letting out a sigh when he saw no one paying them much attention.
"What would you like to eat today, young master?"
"I'd like a bowl of red bean stew, rice, and two fish," he replied promptly.
"I'll be back with your meal, young master. Please make yourself comfortable," she said and left.
He sighed again and calmly observed the diners around him. He noticed a young boy in the far corner, his long hair tied like his own. He couldn't see the boy's face, but the hair...
As he stared, the girl returned with his tray—everything he ordered, plus a vase of wine.
"Wait, I didn't order a drink," he said.
"Do not worry, young master—it's an offer of goodwill," she said with a bow and left. He shrugged and began eating, when a band of four gatekeepers entered the establishment.
As they entered and looked for seats, the boy in the corner finished his meal and stood to leave. He bumped into one of them—or rather, the gatekeeper bumped into him.
"Watch where you're going, kid!" the gatekeeper barked.
The boy met his eyes without a word and turned to leave, but the man grabbed his shoulder.
"Hey! Aren't you going to apologize?"
"The next time you stop me again, you'll wish for a quick death," the boy whispered, trying to pull away. But the man tightened his grip, dragging him back.
"What did you say, kid—?"
The boy's hands moved so fast—two blows to the man's gut, then one to his elbow, dislocating it.
"Aaarrghh!!" The gatekeeper writhed in pain, clutching both stomach and arm.
"I said, the next time you stop me, you'll wish for a quick death."
Seeing their comrade on the ground, the other three men rushed at the boy—only to be beaten one by one.
The young master stared at him, dropping the wooden spoon from his hand. The eyes, the hair color after all these years, the resemblance was still there, if faint. He was certain.
"Big bro?"