The ancestral armor, though old, was impeccably maintained, and the scar that marked his face was the perennial reminder of the price the Chinoike clan had paid to ensure their own survival. Men like him spoke little, yet could shake armies with their mere presence. And that always made Tekka uncomfortable, for it reminded him of everything he could not control.
Takeshi gave a slight bow—respectful, yet firm.
— Good morning, Akemi. I've come to get Riki. Today we begin the practice of advanced seals.
Akemi nodded briefly, stepping aside just enough for Takeshi to enter. The gesture was fluid and natural, like the rehearsed choreography of someone who knew every inch of that shared space. Takeshi then cast a quick, weighty glance at Tekka, expressing the wary respect that had existed between them since Tekka began frequenting the Valley. That silence, in turn, grew heavy: both knew their intentions remained partially hidden from one another.
Riki, upon seeing Takeshi, smiled immediately. With a swift jump, he sprang from his chair, his eyes sparkling with a contained energy that carried the memory of every seal lesson he had learned. He fully understood what it meant: the beginning of the advanced sealing session, a rite that both calmed and tested him. It was a chance to show Takeshi — and, indirectly, everyone in the Valley — that he possessed abilities far beyond the expectations for a mere five-year-old.
— I'm ready, Takeshi-jii! — he exclaimed, raising his fists in a gesture of childish enthusiasm, yet filled with determination.
Takeshi smiled back, but there was a hardness in that smile — the understanding of someone who knew that youthful energy did not belong to just any child. His expression conveyed the awareness that Riki carried in his eyes the seed of a potential that went far beyond the mere ability to seal jutsus. There was an indomitable spirit beneath that small figure walking forward with steady steps.
— Then come — Takeshi ordered. — Let's see if you can surpass what we did yesterday.
But before leaving, Riki ran back to his parents, stopping between them for a brief moment. He hesitated, like an ordinary child saying goodbye before venturing into something new, but quickly suppressed the gesture and lifted his eyes to the two of them, investing that instant with the improvised maturity of someone who carries adult secrets.
— Father… Mother… — he murmured in a softer tone, full of reverence.
Akemi, instead of speaking, gently ran her hand through the boy's hair, as if making a silent pact. She already knew the time would come when Riki would do whatever was necessary to survive in an unforgiving world, and that words might become superfluous. A simple touch would be enough to convey trust — to say: "Go and prove your strength, my son."
Tekka, on the other hand, seemed somewhat disoriented in that moment. With a nearly automatic gesture, he adjusted the forehead protector tied around Riki's head — an act that felt paternal, and at the same time, institutional.
— Be strong — was all Tekka managed to say, as his son cast him a brief look filled with both affection and determination.
Riki raised his clenched fist in a childish gesture of promise. It was the sign of all he already knew: nothing in that world would be easy for him. With quick steps, he ran to join Takeshi, leaving behind a charged silence — the silence of those who knew their certainties would soon be put to the test.
Before leaving, Takeshi exchanged a swift glance with Akemi — a look that could be translated as: This boy truly is the hope of all of us. But deep within, the elder also knew that Riki would not be just hope. He would be a strategist in the making, capable of manipulating the events around him with a brilliance that would surprise even the most seasoned of the clan.
And so, they departed.
When the door closed, the house plunged into a deep silence — a stillness that brought no comfort, but reinforced the weight of each breath. Tekka looked at Akemi, searching for any word that might dissolve the tension in the air, but he knew there was no speech that could resolve what had been building between them.
Akemi, without hurry, turned to collect the bowls, as if saying without uttering a single word: "Don't waste words. Make use of the time we still have."
As Riki left with Takeshi, Tekka lingered in the shadowed hallway and allowed himself a moment of intimacy with his wife. Koshi did not refuse Tekka, even while hating his constant absences — though she protested, she could never deny him that brief shared contact.