Today was a special day for Takeshi. Today he had a real sparring match with his father. If he can even touch Ugetsu, he will move to a new level of training. Now fifteen-year-old Yamamoto stood in the middle of the dojo with a katana in his hands, which blazed with blue flame and panting heavily, opposite his opponent in exactly that position. The fight lasted quite a long time and the younger knew that he could not hold out longer than his father and he urgently needed to deliver the last decisive blow.
Finally, the right time came and Takeshi lunged towards his father, then easily dodged and Yamamoto continued the offensive. The boy moved smoothly and gracefully, as he taught him Ugetsu. Previously, the boy admired these incredible blade movements in the hands of a real master and knew that he would still have to learn a lot in order to achieve the same smoothness and grace of movement as his father. Takeshi made another thrust and finally his plan worked, no matter that the blade was knocked out of his hands and laid on his shoulder blades. A neat cut from a katana was visible on the older man's sleeve.
"Good job, Piccolo *," smiled Ugetsu, helping his son up. He was very proud of his child.
"Dad, I'm too old for that nickname," the boy replied a little embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head. As always, a slight smile played on his face, but a barely noticeable blush appeared on his face. The man responded to this comment by ruffling his son's short black hair.
"It doesn't matter how old you are, for me you will forever remain Piccolo *," explained the senior swordsman pulling his son for a strong hug, he didn't mind much, because he was used to the fact that his dad was a very tactile and gentle person.
"I have a small proposal for you. Take a shower, change your clothes and come to the northern part of the park," the man muttered into his son's silk hair.
"And for what?" Takeshi asked, breaking free from his embrace.
"This is a surprise," Ugetsu smiled mysteriously and pushed the boy into the corridor.
Takeshi didn't ask or argue. For about half an hour, he stood under streams of hot water to relax his tired muscles, despite the fact that it was summer. After changing his clothes, Yamamoto headed towards the garden, before he had time to go out into the clearing, something small and round flew into him. Of course the boy had a great reaction and easily caught the object. It was an old ball. He was very shabby and dirty. Takeshi carefully examined the ball and was very surprised when he found on it a small image of a Shiba Inu dog and a childishly sloppy signature in Japanese, which he made when he was about five years old. He drew this as a birthday present for his dad, who simply adored dogs of this breed, they reminded him of home. As now the boy remembered how difficult it was for him to deduce these hieroglyphs. He remembered writing in Japanese: "Happy birthday, dad! Thank you for everything you do for me. I love you! Your Piccolo *." He even asked Uncle Alaudi to help with the translation. Now the inscription was almost impossible to make out because of the time and how often he played with this ball with his father.
"Do you still keep it?" asked the boy returning the ball to his father.
"Yes, I could not throw it out. I remember how proud you were of your little drawing and signature. And you loved this ball so much when you were little," smiled Ugetsu with the grace of a cat catching the ball. Memories of which he always remembered with a smile flooded over him.
"So why did you call me here?" Takeshi puzzled looked at his father, not understanding why he brought the old ball.
"I want to play with you, Piccolo *. It's been quite a while since we last did this together. What do you say?" the boy's face lit up, he always loved to play ball, especially with his dad. It's been a really long time since they played ball together because of a lot of things. Therefore, he was very pleased with this proposal.
"Yes, I want to play."
"Okay, then let's start," the game was one of the best. For a long time he had not felt such freedom, it was impossible to describe what he felt when he threw or beat back, for him it was some kind of long-lost feeling. The game continued until lunchtime. Both owners of the rain tribe were pretty tired, but they were pleased with themselves and went to their rooms.
When the time came for the boy to sleep, something was very disturbing and he himself could not figure out what exactly. After a while, there was a knock on the door and Ugetsu entered the room with a strange slightly sad smile.
"Can't sleep?" Takeshi just shook his head, for some reason he didn't feel like talking at all.
"Then I prepared something for you, I'll be back soon," the man went out and returned in a few minutes with a glass of warm milk. Ugetsu knew well that his son's favorite drink was milk. To whom it was one of many ways to help the boy fall asleep. He held out the glass to Takeshi and waited for the child to drink everything, "Better?"
"Yes, but I still don't want to sleep," Yamamoto complained, wiping the remains of the white liquid off his face.
"Maybe then he can help you?" The older man pointed at his son's old plush toy. Which was now on the shelf next to the rest of the knickknacks.
"I'm too old for stuffed animals," the boy replied quietly.
"So you don't need Koji anymore?" the swordsman of the rain took a toy dog from the shelf and sat on the edge of his son's bed.
"Well, maybe just today," Yamamoto muttered, taking Koji from Daddy's hands. Although the toy's coat was faded, it was still pleasant and fluffy to the touch, like a real dog, so the boy buried his nose in the plush and closed his eyes, but the dream still did not overtake him.
"Dad, why do you call me Piccolo*?" suddenly, after a minute, Takeshi asked. He heard Ugetsu laugh softly and felt his father's big warm hand rest on his cheek.
"It's just that when I first saw you were so tiny that the name itself somehow escaped my lips. My Piccolo*, my little boy," the man could not resist and tenderly kissed his son on the forehead. Yamamoto felt endless love from his father when he did this.
"Dad, do you play the flute for me?" Takeshi asked, he had not heard the melody of his father's flute for a long time. Plus, when he was little, they always helped him fall asleep, even when he was feeling bad.
"Of course, Piccolo*," the warm hand on his cheek disappeared and Yamamoto heard a rustling, after another second a pleasant melody that reminded of childhood began to play. His favorite lullaby, without realizing it, the boy began to hum:
Ninna nanna, ninna oh,
una stella io ti do.
Ti regalo la più bella,
fai la nanna bimba bella.
Ninna nanna, ninna oh,
vuoi la luna sì o no
Per amore del buon Dio,
fai la nanna bimbo mio.
Each of the children on the estate knew this lullaby. Tsuna was especially fond of her, but Takeshi also really liked her, and when the future guardian was still quite a baby, he often asked his father to play this particular melody, and he did not want to listen to others.
"Thank you, dad. I love you," whispered sleepy Yamamoto, plunging into the land of dreams.
"Sleep well, my Piccolo*. Ti amo, piccolo*," it seemed a little more and Ugetsu would cry, so Yamamoto thought, when he felt his father's flame touch his forehead and he fell asleep soundly. The last thing he heard were the daddy's quiet sobs and the familiar words:
"I love you, I love you more than life, never forget about it. And remember, your blade is designed to protect your family. I will always be there, even if you cannot see me."
Piccolo is small.
Ti amo - I love you.
Italian lullaby "Ninna Nanna Ninna Oh"
Transfer:
Bayu-bye, byu-bye,
I give you a star.
I give you the most beautiful one.
Sleep lovely child.
Bayu-bye, byu-bye
do you want the moon, yes or no.
For God's sake,
sleep my child.