Second-guess
No one questioned Ozuma's judgment.
When they returned home carrying an ancient rock empty of sacred spirits, voluntary failures in their life's mission, nobody put up a fuss. It was a mercifully quiet homecoming, without celebration or criticism. They solemnly returned the rock to its shrine, and solemnly prayed to their ancestors and the ancestors of their beasts.
No one said anything about this unexpected development in the natural order of things. No one wondered at the consequences of Ozuma's decision.
Except, that is, for Ozuma himself. It gnawed at him, as he strode confidently among the houses and fields, and bowed coolly at the shrine, and determinedly told them he was leaving the village. He didn't want to be around the rock anymore, if it meant questioning himself. Asking himself if he'd done the right—
They didn't plead. They didn't question him. He left without fanfare or bravado. Two weeks later, Miriam and Joseph followed. A day after that Dunga went too.
"To check up on them," Ozuma explained—though no one had asked—when the four Saint Shields reunited at the harbor. "To make sure I did the right thing.
…Do you think I did the right thing?"