"Akira Kageyori."
Daimyo Morizawa Nara's voice was not loud, but it was enough to make every breath in the hall catch.
Akira remained kneeling. He neither denied nor confirmed. Just silent, staring at the polished wooden floor. Behind him, Ryuma could feel the shift in the young man's shoulders, stiff, yet controlled.
"How… does my lord know that name?" Akira finally asked. His voice was calm, but no longer as soft as before.
Morizawa descended one step from his high seat. "Because I knew your father."
This time Akira looked up.
"Your father, Morinobu Kageyori," the Daimyo continued, "was not merely a clan leader. He was my friend."
Several officials on the sides of the hall exchanged glances, but none dared interrupt.
Ryuma narrowed his eyes. "Friend?" he muttered softly, just audible.
Morizawa nodded. "We grew up in the same era. Learned the sword from the same master. Dreamed of a strong land built on honor, not fear."
Akira stared without blinking. "Then during the Jōkyū Rebellion… my lord stood on Emperor Go-Toba's side."
"I stood on the side of my conviction," Morizawa replied, without defensiveness. "And I lost."
Silence hung heavy.
"The Hojo forces were too strong," he continued quietly. "Hojo Yoshitoki led with cold precision. We were unprepared. Our alliance was fragile, full of misaligned ambitions."
Akira felt the name echo in his mind, Hojo Yoshitoki. A shadow, not a person, for so long.
"Your father chose a duel," Morizawa said, voice heavier. "He knew if captured, his clan would be humiliated. He chose to die as a samurai."
"With Hojo Yoshitoki," Akira cut in.
"Yes."
The room grew even quieter. Even breathing sounded clear.
"I could not save him," Morizawa went on. "And that regret never left."
Akira looked at him for a long time. He waited for anger to rise. Waited for hatred toward the man still alive while his father was not.
But all he felt was exhaustion.
"I have let them go," he said softly. "My father. My mother. Clan Kageyori."
Morizawa studied his face, as if verifying the truth of the words.
"Forgiveness does not mean forgetting," he said.
Akira did not reply.
Several seconds passed before Morizawa returned to his seat. "I did not summon you here to reopen old wounds."
"Then why?" Ryuma asked directly.
The Daimyo gave a faint smile. "To offer a future."
Akira glanced briefly at Ryuma, then looked forward again.
"Clan Nara needs someone like you," Morizawa continued. "You proved your skill. Ten bandits is no small feat. And you did it alone."
"It was luck," Akira said curtly.
"There is no luck in the sword," Morizawa countered.
He paused, then added, "Join Clan Nara. I will give you a strategic position in my forces. Not as an ordinary soldier. As an officer."
Several officials looked surprised, but none objected.
Akira stayed silent.
"Of course," Morizawa added, "there are clan customs to follow."
Ryuma raised an eyebrow. "What customs?"
"To officially become part of Clan Nara, you must have blood ties to us." Morizawa met Akira's eyes directly. "You must marry a woman of Clan Nara."
The words landed without drama, but their weight was clear.
Akira blinked slowly. He had not expected the conversation to turn there.
"Marriage…" he murmured.
"This is not just a marriage," Morizawa explained. "It is recognition. Protection. If you become part of our clan, no one can touch you without touching Nara."
"Including Kamakura?" Akira asked.
Morizawa smiled faintly. "Especially Kamakura."
Silence fell again.
Akira turned back. Ryuma stood with arms crossed, looking almost proud.
"Uncle?" Akira asked quietly.
Ryuma chuckled. "Don't look at me like that. This is your life."
"What do you think?"
"I think," Ryuma said casually, "not everyone gets offered marriage and a military post in the same day."
Akira almost smiled, but his mind was too full.
Morizawa understood his hesitation. "I do not ask for an answer now. Such a decision cannot be rushed."
He added more seriously, "The Kageyori name will remain secret here. We know the risk. Kamakura still watches anyone who once stood with Go-Toba. If they learn the Kageyori heir is alive…"
"It's not only me in danger," Akira finished.
"Correct."
Finally Akira bowed. "Thank you for your trust, my lord. I will consider it."
"You may go," Morizawa said.
Akira and Ryuma rose. As they left, Akira felt the officials' gazes on his back.
Once the hall doors closed, Morizawa exhaled deeply.
One advisor approached. "Are you certain of this, my lord?"
Morizawa stared at the closed door. "I am never certain of men. But I am certain of potential."
"He is Kageyori's son. Rebel blood."
"Blood that carries grudge," Morizawa said softly. "And grudge can become a sharp blade."
The advisor fell silent.
"We live under Kamakura's shadow," Morizawa continued. "As long as we only bow, we are safe. But safety is not freedom."
"You wish to use him?"
Morizawa smiled faintly. "I wish to give him purpose. If his purpose aligns with Nara's interest, it is not use. It is partnership."
Yet in his heart, he knew one thing: a child who lost his clan never truly stops remembering.
---
At the small house by the Iwai River, night fell slowly.
Akira sat on the veranda, watching the moonlit current. Ryuma brought two cups of hot tea and sat beside him.
"You've been quiet," Ryuma said.
"I'm thinking."
"Good. Better than acting rashly."
Akira took a long breath. "Do you think he's honest?"
"Morizawa?" Ryuma sipped his tea. "He's not a fool. Fools don't survive after Jōkyū."
"That's not an answer."
Ryuma smiled thinly. "He may be honest about your father. But every daimyo has his own interests."
Akira looked down. "If I join, I enter their game."
"You've been in the game since you were born Kageyori."
The words left Akira silent for a long time.
"My father chose to stand with Emperor Go-Toba," he said slowly. "Why?"
"That's something you must find out yourself," Ryuma answered.
Akira turned to him.
"If you're still curious about your parents' deaths… about why your clan stood with the Emperor… about why your father chose to oppose the Kamakura shogunate… perhaps now is the time to seek the answers."
"And if the answers hurt?"
Ryuma gave a small laugh. "Truth almost always hurts."
That night they spoke no more.
---
A few days later, the village atmosphere changed.
That morning, a group passed along the riverbank. They carried meager belongings, cloth sacks, children on backs, tired and dust-covered faces.
Akira approached the oldest-looking man.
"Where are you from?"
"Kyoto," he answered shortly.
"What happened there?"
The man gave a dry laugh. "What didn't happen?"
Akira waited.
"The new Emperor, Go-Horikawa, is different from Go-Toba. He is fully under Kamakura's shadow. Taxes were raised. Villages that couldn't pay were visited by soldiers. Some were arrested. Some were taken… somewhere."
"Taken?" Akira repeated.
"For labor. Or worse."
A woman behind him added, "My cousin's village was burned. They said it was for refusing extra tax."
Ryuma, standing beside Akira, frowned. "Since when is tax collection done with fire?"
"Since fear became more effective than respect," the old man replied.
Some of the group chose to settle near Nara. Others continued on.
Akira stood long, watching them leave.
"Is Shogun Minamoto really that cruel?" he murmured.
Ryuma shook his head slowly. "Power rarely has one face. The cruel one may not be the Shogun, but those beneath him."
"What's the difference?"
"For the common people, none."
That night, Akira sat on the veranda again.
"I want to go to Uji," he said suddenly.
Ryuma looked at him without surprise. "I thought you'd say that."
"I want to see the last place my father stood. I want to know what really happened at Jōkyū. Not from a daimyo's story. Not from rumors."
"Are you seeking truth or a reason to hate?"
Akira was silent a long time before answering. "I don't know."
Ryuma smiled faintly. "Honest answer."
He stood, patted Akira's shoulder. "If that's what you want…"
Akira looked at him.
"We go back to Uji."