"There's no place for samurai in the world anymore," the man muttered before he tipped his cup of warm sake to his mouth and drained it. Katsushiro sighed inwardly. It was the same excuse his father always used to justify his excessive drinking. It had been three years since the Great War had ended, and his father's skills as a warrior hadn't been needed in almost as long. Katsushiro thought about leaving without a word and returning after his father had drunk himself to sleep, but he decided to finally speak his mind:
"A true samurai wouldn't give up so easily."
"Fool!" his father spat. He slammed his cup down and knocked over the short table as he stood. Katsushiro braced for a hand across his jaw, but instead, his father went to the corner of the small room and grabbed his dusty katana from where it was propped against the wall. Katsushiro's eyes widened, but before he could react further, his father thrust the sheathed sword at him.
"Since you think it's so easy to be a samurai, be one!"
Katsushiro stared at his father.
"Take it and leave!" his father growled.
Katsushiro did, and he never returned.