Sumiyoshi was just about to leave the festival grounds when he heard a voice call from behind:
"Shintarō!"
He stopped.
Slowly, he turned around.
A tall man stood in the shadows near a wooden pole, around 24-25 years old, wearing a long coat and travel boots. His eyes were fixed on Sumiyoshi with intense focus.
Sumiyoshi blinked. "Uh... no, I'm not Shintarō. That's my older brother."
The man's gaze didn't shift.
Sumiyoshi raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "Who are you? One of his friends or something?"
Before the man could speak, Sumiyoshi casually threw an arm over his shoulder and grinned, "Wait wait - if you're his friend, you probably came for fish, right? You're in luck. I'll give you a discount. Family friend privileges."
He smirked. "So? How much do you need? Half a basket? Quarter?"
But the man said calmly, "Actually... I didn't come for fish. I came to speak with you."
Sumiyoshi waved him off, uninterested. "Ah... then you're no good to me. See ya."
He began walking away.
Before he could get far, another voice - deeper, older - called out from nearby:
"Wait."
An elderly man stepped forward, silver-haired with a stern expression and walking staff in hand. His voice held weight - like someone used to being obeyed.
"Take us to your home. We need to speak with your brother."
Sumiyoshi hesitated, eyes darting between them.
"...Alright," he finally said.
Scene Shift - At Home
Back at their quiet mountain home, Shintarō stood near the table, cutting vegetables with careful hands. The light from the paper window panels painted golden lines across the floor.
He didn't look up when Sumiyoshi entered. "Where were you? You're hours late."
Sumiyoshi rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... long story. But I met someone. Says he wants to talk to you."
Mr. Kuroda stepped into view.
Shintarō froze.
The knife stopped mid-cut.
The older man stepped forward and smiled faintly.
"After sixteen long years... I've finally found you."
Shintarō turned slowly. His expression - pure shock.
The older man continued, "Do you recognize me?"
"...Mr. Kuroda?" Shintarō whispered.
Kuroda nodded. "I wasn't sure you'd remember."
"I thought... you were dead."
Kuroda's voice dropped. "I should have been. But fate had other plans. I... I'm sorry. I couldn't protect your mother and father that night."
Shintarō's face hardened. "I don't even remember what happened. And honestly... I never tried to. So tell me, what are you doing here?"
Kuroda stepped closer, sincere. "I came to take you both with me."
Shintarō's eyes narrowed. "No."
"You haven't even heard-"
"I don't need to," he cut in. "If whatever that night was, took our parents... then I don't want to be part of it. And more importantly, I won't drag Sumiyoshi into it either."
Sumiyoshi looked confused. "What's going on...?"
Kuroda looked down, voice quieter now.
"I understand how you feel, Shintarō. Truly. I don't blame you for wanting to stay away. But..."
He looked back up.
"Your father - before he died - gave me his final wish. He said: 'Find my sons. Train them. If I couldn't finish what I started... let them finish it together.'"
Those words struck like thunder.
Shintarō took a step back, lips parting, breath caught.
"I know I failed him. I was too weak back then. Too late. But if there's one thing I can still do right... it's this."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Sumiyoshi turned toward his brother, eyes filled with uncertainty.
"Brother... what is he talking about? You told me they died from some illness."
Shintarō's shoulders slumped.
"I don't know what really happened, Sumiyoshi. I... I never wanted to know. I didn't want to live with the truth. I just wanted peace."
He looked toward Kuroda again, this time with pain in his eyes.
"...But if someone did take them from us..."
His hand curled into a fist.
"...I want to know who. And I want to make sure they never do it again."
Kuroda nodded slowly. "Then come with me. I'll tell you everything. About your parents. About the war. About what's coming."
Shintarō looked once more at his brother.
"Sumiyoshi..."
Sumiyoshi straightened up, nervous but determined.
"...I'm with you."