The day the members of the Tsugikuni Family came to worship at the shrine happened to be the first day of snow in winter.
You, as a trainee monk at Kiyomizu Temple, represented the temple in receiving the guests who had traveled from afar.
You saw Father and Yoriichi walking towards you from the temple's great gate. After not seeing my younger brother for many days, upon first sight, you even hesitated to confirm it was him.
Yoriichi dismounted with great elegance, the hem of his clothing forming a sharp arc in the cold air. As he stopped, he handed the reins to an attendant and turned towards the direction of the approaching people. The Heir of the Tsugikuni Family, with a sword at his waist and his hair neatly tied up, the previously inauspicious birthmarks on his face now shone vividly—Yoriichi looked in your direction, the cold wind carrying snowflakes lifting his red haori. He strode directly towards you.
Yoriichi, judging by his demeanor, had already become the Tsugikuni Family's Heir in deed as well as in name.
And you, responsible for receiving him at the temple, wore the standard white monk's robe issued by Kiyomizu Temple. The areas prone to wear, like the cuffs and knees, were already patched—the first time you mended clothes, you pricked your fingers. By the second patch, your stitches were quite skilled, fine and neat, making the patches look quite presentable.
The thin monk's robe offered little protection against the winter chill; it was more about relying on one's own body heat to resist. You had often seen young monks your age find dried reeds from the mountainside to stuff into their robes, praying devoutly with pale faces from the cold that it would be a warm winter.
This year was indeed a warm winter, as the snow fell so late, and there was little rain, the sun gently bestowing its warmth upon the people of the land.
In short, when you stood before Yoriichi, embodying all the symbols of a Kiyomizu Temple Monk Soldier, you looked no different from any other young monk in the temple.
As you were pondering whether you, as the wasteful elder brother, should show a look of shame and avoidance before the esteemed Yoriichi, he continued to approach without hesitation. Before you could react, he had already opened his arms and embraced you.
"Eldest brother (sir/lord)! Yoriichi has missed you dearly!"
The familiar, steady, and reassuring voice sounded in your ear. You felt the slight chill of his haori and the sincere longing in his embrace.
It was just like the letters he had been writing to you incessantly for the past few months, pages upon pages filled with the big and small events of his life, often ending with, "If only Eldest brother were here," which annoyed you to no end. So, you carefully organized these letters and sealed them in a box without replying to a single one.
Almost instinctively, you raised your hands and embraced his shoulders—he had grown considerably stronger in the few months you hadn't seen him.
Father stopped behind Yoriichi. He lowered his head, his eyes cast down, looking at the two brothers embracing before him. To you, he was in silhouette, his already dark eyes even more obscured in the shadow. You couldn't tell if he was pleased with the scene, but instinctively, you remembered his aversion to your brotherhood.
You patted Yoriichi's back, signaling him to let go.
He paused for a moment, obediently lowered his arms, and moved to stand beside you.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to address your father. Should you use the courtesy due to nobility and say, "Father (sir/lord)," or the monastic greeting, like when receiving other nobles, and say, "Master Tsugukuni?"
Wearing a monk's robe, you opted for the noble address: "Father (sir/lord), you have had a long journey. The abbot of Kiyomizu Temple has asked me to receive you and Yoriichi."
"..." Father remained silent. Just as you began to feel uneasy, he reached out and ruffled your hair, "You've grown, Yansheng."
You: "...!!!"
What was that supposed to mean?
You bit your lip to compose yourself, lowered your head to maintain a respectful posture, and replied, "Because of your letters, the abbot has taken good care of me. I have also continued my Martial Path training at the temple."
"...Is that so!" The man seemed to sigh. He intended to say more, but in the end, he chose silence.
That evening, the current head of the Tsugikuni Family and the future heir stayed overnight at Kiyomizu Temple.
Father lit candles in the Buddhist hall and knelt on a futon. As agreed, in his capacity as the city lord of Tsugukuni Castle, he would pray through the night for the people of Tsugukuni Castle, for the Daimyo he served, and for the future heir of the Tsugikuni Family.
You didn't believe that you, an abandoned son, would be on your father's prayer list.
That night, at Yoriichi's insistence, you slept in his quarters (your small three-tatami room would have been too impolite to offer to guests).
You set up two beds, each sleeping in your own futon.
Yoriichi, with sparkling eyes, whispered to you, sharing anecdotes regardless of your interest: "Father (sir/lord)... misses Mother dearly."
"..."
"Someone kept advising him to take a new wife so that Tsugukuni Manor would have a madam to manage the household and interact with the ladies. However, Father (sir/lord) flew into a rage, saying, 'The previous madam did her best while alive and still didn't interact much with the ladies, yet Tsugukuni Castle still prospered.' He scolded the retainers who offered advice until they ran off with their faces covered..."
"Is that so..."
"He came to the temple to pray this time too. Father told me that Mother devoutly believed in gods and Buddhas during her life and performed good deeds. Such a mother would surely become a Buddha upon death. However, Father, as a warrior serving a Daimyo, has harmed many with his sword. He is worried he might not reunite with Mother in the afterlife—he told me this with great dejection one moonlit night. The next day, he sternly told me that no one was to speak of that day's events..."
"..."
"Father misses you too, Eldest brother (sir/lord)!"
"Me?"
"Every time he wants to write to you, he becomes too shy. He calls me to his study and asks me to deliver the recent letters to Mr. Kawa Shita, instructing him to pay attention to your situation and report back to him. But Eldest brother, after the first letter, you never replied..."
His voice trailed off, sounding somewhat dejected.
You: "..."
He asked cautiously, "Did Yoriichi do something wrong to anger Eldest brother (sir/lord)?"
You: "..."
Outside the window, snowflakes rustled down. Bright moonlight streamed into the room. You could imagine the courtyard outside, the trees, the rock garden, the pond, with snowflakes falling one after another, dressing the quiet night in white armor.
It was such a beautiful night.
Perhaps seeing your continued silence, Yoriichi reached out from his futon, fumbling until he found your arm, and then quietly snuggled close.
His body temperature was always a bit higher than normal. On this cold night, the small area of his touch on your arm was filled with an unbearable warmth, a sincerity that was almost too much for you.
"Eldest brother (sir/lord)?"
His voice called out.
You gazed at the dark ceiling, clenching your teeth to suppress a surge of nausea. Even so, indistinct, swirling colored patterns began to appear before your eyes, and a buzzing sound grew louder in your ears.
You truly hate this...
With ragged breaths, you felt a warmth spread from your nose, hot liquid trickling down from your nostrils.