The sun dipped low over the mountains, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet. Tamamo sat quietly on the porch, her tails swaying gently as she gazed at the horizon. Behind her, the rhythmic sound of wooden swords clashing echoed through the clearing.

"Focus, Ushi!" Sojōbō barked, his tone sharp but not unkind.

"Yes, Uncle Crow!" Ushiwakamaru replied, determination thick in her voice. She swung her practice sword with all her might, her small frame trembling under the effort.

Sojōbō effortlessly parried her strike, his feathered fan sweeping her blade aside as though it were a mere twig. "You're too eager to attack. Strength is important, but a sharp mind wins battles."

Tamamo watched them silently, her usual sarcasm absent as she observed the exchange. Ushiwakamaru had been practicing every day for months, her resolve unwavering since the moment she had made her decision.

Finally, Sojōbō called for a break, and Ushiwakamaru dropped to her knees, panting heavily. "Again... let me try again!"

"You'll try again after you've rested," Sojōbō said, placing his fan against her forehead to stop her from rising. His gaze softened. "Determination without discipline is just recklessness. A true samurai needs both."

Ushiwakamaru reluctantly nodded, sitting back on her heels. Her small hands tightened around the practice sword as she stared at the ground.

Tamamo stood and approached, her steps soft against the wooden floor of the porch. "Ushi," she began, her voice quiet, "why are you pushing yourself so hard? You're just a child. There's no need to carry burdens like this."

Ushiwakamaru looked up, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "Because it's not fair, Tamamo-sama. They say terrible things about you—things that aren't true. I want to become strong so I can clear your name."

Tamamo froze, her usually composed expression cracking for just a moment. "Ushi... you don't need to do that."

"Yes, I do!" Ushiwakamaru insisted, her voice breaking slightly. "You took care of me when no one else would. You're kind and brave, even if people don't see it. I want to make them see."

Sojōbō crossed his arms, his feathers ruffling slightly as he watched the exchange. "The kid's got a point, Tamamo. She's got the heart of a warrior, and I'd bet on her over any pampered courtier."

Tamamo sighed, her shoulders sagging. "This isn't a path for children. The world is cruel, Ushi. It will chew you up and spit you out, no matter how noble your intentions."

"I don't care!" Ushiwakamaru shot back, standing shakily but with unshakable resolve. "If I don't try, then who will? You said it yourself—the world is cruel. But maybe I can make it a little less cruel for you."

The kitsune stared at the girl, speechless for once. Then she felt Sojōbō's hand on her shoulder.

"Let her try," he said softly. "She's got fire, and I'll make sure she doesn't burn herself out before she's ready."

Tamamo looked at him, then back at Ushiwakamaru. Finally, she closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine. But if you're going to do this, you'd better come back alive. That's an order."

Ushiwakamaru's face lit up, and she bowed deeply. "I promise, Tamamo-sama!"

"Ushi, dear, what are you wearing?"

"This is my armor! Uncle Crow said it's traditional for samurai to wear this. Why, is there something wrong with it?"

Tamamo pressed her lips into a thin line, her ears twitching as she tried to suppress the absolute fury bubbling up inside her. The so-called armor Ushiwakamaru was wearing consisted of a series of clothe straps that barely covered her up, a skirt that barely reached mid-thigh and didn't even stretch all the way around her waist, and that wasn't even getting into the travesty that was her shoes. It was more suited for a imperial costume party than the battlefield.

"Well, it's just... isn't that a bit cold?" she asked, forcing a smile and trying to keep her voice even.

Ushiwakamaru blinked and glanced down at her armor. "Oh, no! Uncle put me through acclimatization training earlier this year to make sure I wouldn't freeze to death."

Tamamo's eye twitched. Acclimatization training? Of course, the feathered idiot would find an excuse like that. She was really going to kill him this time.

She took a deep breath, forcing a smile that did not reach her eyes. "I see. Sojōbō put you through... training, did he?"

Ushiwakamaru beamed proudly. "Yes, Uncle Crow said that a samurai must be prepared for all conditions, so he made me climb the mountain in the middle of winter wearing even less than this! It was hard, but I did it!"

Tamamo's eye twitched. "Did he now?"

Before Ushiwakamaru could continue singing her praises of Sojōbō's dubious training methods, the crow himself appeared, landing gracefully on a nearby tree branch. His arms were crossed, his fan tucked into his sash, and he wore a self-satisfied grin that Tamamo wanted to rip off his face.

"Well, isn't she a vision?" Sojōbō said, clearly proud of himself. "Doesn't she look every bit the part of a noble samurai?"

Tamamo turned to him slowly, her tails flaring behind her like a battle standard. "A noble samurai, you say? You mean to tell me that this—" she gestured sharply to Ushiwakamaru's outfit, "—is traditional battle attire?"

Sojōbō shrugged nonchalantly. "It's practical. Lightweight for mobility and—"

"—Mobility isn't the issue, you feathered buffoon!" Tamamo snapped, her voice rising. "She's going to catch a cold, or worse, die of embarrassment before she even draws her sword!"

Ushiwakamaru looked between the two, her confusion growing. "But Uncle Crow said that this is how legendary warriors dressed! He even said it would make me look intimidating!"

Tamamo rounded on Sojōbō again, her tails bristling. "Intimidating? Sojōbō, I've seen festival dancers wear more protective gear than this!"

The tengu smirked, completely unfazed by her outburst. "Tamamo, you're overreacting. The girl's resilient. Besides, I wanted her to have the traditional tengu experience—practicality and elegance combined."

"Traditional tengu experience?!" Tamamo's voice dropped into a deadly calm. "You and I are going to have a long conversation about what constitutes appropriate armor after this."

Sojōbō waved her off, still grinning. "Fine, fine. But she passed the training, didn't she? She's tougher than she looks."

Tamamo turned back to Ushiwakamaru, crouching to look her in the eyes. "Sweetie, do you trust me?"

Ushiwakamaru nodded without hesitation. "Of course, Tamamo-sama."

"Good. Because we're going to get you some real armor before you set off on your journey. Something that covers more than a festival costume." She stood and glared at Sojōbō. "And as for you, featherbrain..."

Sojōbō laughed, clearly enjoying her ire. "Don't worry, I'll help her find something better. But admit it, she does look intimidating. Those soldiers won't know what hit them!"

Tamamo sighed, rubbing her temples. "If she survives this because her enemies are too confused to fight back, it will be your fault."

Despite the chaos, Ushiwakamaru couldn't help but giggle. She didn't fully understand their argument, but the way Tamamo fussed over her made her feel loved—and that was armor no enemy could pierce.

Ushiwakamaru stood at the base of the mountain, her belongings packed neatly into a small bundle strapped to her back. Her practice sword had been replaced with a real blade, its sheath tied securely at her side.

Sojōbō stood before her, his expression unusually serious. "You've trained well, but training only takes you so far. Out there, you'll face challenges I can't prepare you for. Trust your instincts, and remember what I've taught you."

Ushiwakamaru nodded, standing straighter than usual. "I won't let you down, Uncle Crow."

Tamamo approached, her expression a mix of pride and worry. She extended her hand, revealing a small talisman. "This… will form a connection between us. As long as one of us is alive, the talisman will stay warm. You'll always know we're all right."

Ushiwakamaru's eyes widened as she took the talisman, her hands trembling slightly. Then, without hesitation, she threw her arms around Tamamo in a tight hug. "Thank you, Mama Tamamo. I'll miss you."

Tamamo froze for a moment, caught off guard, but then gently returned the embrace. "Just... stay safe, little one. That's all I ask."

Sojōbō, standing to the side, smirked. "You know, if you're worried that much about her, you could just say so outright."

Tamamo glared at him over Ushiwakamaru's shoulder, her tails bristling. "You're one to talk, featherbrain. I seem to recall someone sulking for days when she scraped her knee during training."

Sojōbō crossed his arms with mock offense. "That was a perfectly reasonable response. And, for the record, I wasn't sulking—I was strategizing how to teach her to avoid it in the future."

Ushiwakamaru giggled, stepping back from Tamamo and adjusting the talisman around her neck. "I'll be fine, I promise. And I'll make you both proud."

As she turned and began her descent from the mountain, Sojōbō and Tamamo watched her go.

"She'll do great," Sojōbō said softly.

Tamamo nodded, her eyes glistening. "She'd better. Or I'll find her just to drag her home myself."

Ushiwakamaru was away from home for a long time, venturing out on her own journey. She forged bonds with new friends, clashed with enemies, and fought monsters, carving her own legend into history. Despite the many paths she walked, she always found time to return home and visit her family.

Sometimes, she came alone, eager to share her tales of adventure. Other times, she brought along the companions she had made along the way—friends who had become like siblings, comrades in arms who shared her battles and triumphs. On one such visit, she even introduced someone she had come to consider her brother: Yoritomo.

Her parents, as always, welcomed Yoritomo with warmth and kindness. Despite their inhuman nature, Tamamo and Sojōbō had always chosen to hide what they truly were, presenting themselves as ordinary guardians. They cooked meals, told stories, and treated Yoritomo like family.

For a while, it seemed as though this approach might bridge the gap between what they were and what the world expected them to be. But kindness alone was not always enough. Perhaps, if they had revealed the strength that lay beneath their humble exteriors, it might have been enough to make him hesitate. Perhaps if they had shown Yoritomo the power they wielded, he would have thought twice.

But they didn't.

And when the time came, Yoritomo betrayed them.

Far from home, in the shadowed halls of a foreign castle, Ushiwakamaru fought valiantly. The clash of steel echoed in her ears as her friend stood not beside her but behind her, she could only gasp in confusion the first sign of his betrayal a blade piercing her heart.

And somewhere, provinces away, in the quiet solitude of her mountain home, a small talisman lost its warmth.

Edit: I'm sad now