I'm back!

Almost... LOL

"Reflexiones: Enishi"

It was too late by the time he realized he was going to lose him.

"Enishi-kun!"

The bells rang out loudly from the watchtower, alerting the people to leave their homes and run to take refuge deep in the forest, which quickly filled with the sound of voices.

"Run!"

"Hurry! Get out!"

The wind picked up, and with it, the flames grew stronger, making it impossible to save more than one of the small huts. The villagers' efforts were divided.

"Children and the elderly first!"

"Put out the fire!"

While some fled and helped each other to reach safety, others did everything in their power to contain the fire, while still more supported the fight against the enemy assault.

"Enishi-kun!" the miko shouted, turning toward her companion.

The boy, strengthened by years of training, supported the resistance, landing precise blows on enemies focused on fighting others; they fell without knowing where or who the damage came from. The black-haired boy's spear allowed him to strike from a distance and remain relatively safe.

But even those who stay at the rear can be caught off guard by a hidden enemy, slipping behind their target in silence.

Kaoru quickened her pace.

"Enishi-kun, behind you!" the miko shouted.

Enishi barely heard her in time to turn and dodge the blow that would have been lethal — it would have pierced him right through the heart — but not fast enough to avoid the second strike, a hard blow to the right side of his head with the hilt of the sword.

"Enishi-kun!"

The boy fell from the bridge, half-conscious, into the river below, whose waters had been stirred by the recent storm. Upon falling in, the water enveloped him like an embrace.

The last thing his eyes saw was the face of the Inari miko, her blue eyes wide with panic, as she screamed his name.

"ENISHI!"

Neesan:

You say I should forgive. You say the world is not black or white. But I don't understand how someone like you could say that. You, who lost so much. You, who gave up everything and still ask me to remain calm.

I'm not like you, Neesan. I don't want to be. I will not bow or smile at the people who hurt us!

I wish I could take all your sadness and turn it into a weapon strong enough to destroy everything that ever harmed you. I always thought that if I could do that, I'd be able to guarantee your happiness.

But after your last letter, I've come to understand that I would have to eliminate myself if I ever did that — because now, it would be me causing you pain.

I wish it were different.

I wish I had been the older one, so I could take care of you, protect you, shield your path from any hurt. I think I'm still a child. Though I don't think that's entirely a bad thing. Sometimes I think it's this condition that allows me to clearly see the things adults refuse to see…

Some decisions aren't hard — but grown-ups always find motives and reasons to make them complicated.

At least, until a few days ago, I was convinced that was true. Now I'm not so sure.

Could it be that I'm finally leaving childhood behind?

Neesan... would that make you sad?

The sun had just reached the height from which it would begin to descend. It had been a hot day, and the travelers prepared to quench their thirst and that of the horses pulling the wagons.

The Inari priestess had ordered that preparations for camp be made, and the group had chosen an area near the main road to set up. Enishi was not pleased at all with what to him felt like an obvious and unnecessary delay.

"Is this really necessary?" the boy asked, arms crossed, standing behind the miko, who was checking the travel provisions. "We'll just waste all the time we've gained."

Kaoru sighed softly, as if trying to calm herself; Tomoe's younger brother was proving to be quite irritating with his impatience.

"We left early and haven't stopped even once. The horses need to rest" she replied.

"A rest isn't the same as camping."

This time, Kaoru let out her breath with clear irritation, then turned to face him at last.

"Enishi-kun, I understand you're in a hurry to reach Edo. But if you don't take care of what carries you, you'll end up stranded halfway there" she scolded him.

He had the decency to look slightly remorseful.

"They could have gone on a bit longer" he mumbled under his breath.

Kaoru raised her eyebrows, oddly touched to find herself near a real child — one who, fortunately, hadn't been forced to grow up as quickly as she or any of her companions had.

Suddenly, she wasn't as annoyed anymore.

"But then it would take them even longer to recover" she explained. "We're making good time anyway. On foot, the journey takes a week. Thanks to the carriage, we'll get there sooner. There's no need to worry."

She smiled at him, and faced with that gesture, the boy had no further arguments — even if his puffed cheeks still showed his annoyance. There was something about the miko that reminded him terribly of his sister Tomoe, back when she had taken on a motherly role.

The breeze blew then, gently carrying away the tension that had lingered from their earlier exchange.

They had been traveling for just over half a day, with short intermittent breaks, managing to pass six of the 53 stations of the Tokaido Road — a feat in itself, considering they had left the maritime route behind and were traveling with three carriages, and that they would soon take the Nakasendo route (the road to Edo through the mountains), where they'd have to leave behind the luxurious carriage that would continue its trip by sea to Edo Bay.

The camping site they had chosen wasn't far from the travelers' station but wasn't right along the open road either. It was a flat clearing bordered by cedar and maple trees.

The miko finished securing the provisions, followed by Enishi, who tried to pay attention even if he couldn't offer much real help. Then, one of the six chokkai, a boy her age with dark eyes and jet-black hair named Kaito, who traveled with their party, approached where they stood.

"Kaoru miko-sama, your tent is ready" the boy informed her.

Kaoru smiled.

"Arigatou" she said before following the chokkai to the tent prepared for her.

Enishi walked behind them as well — after all, his tent was right next to hers.

After checking that everything was in order, they came back out to organize dinner; however, the sound of bells and chimes rang out in the air. Everyone turned toward the sound; there was a parallel path to the camp, splitting in two directions: one toward a small prefecture and the other toward the rest station. A large group was approaching.

"Isn't it a little early for a pilgrimage?" Enishi asked, unable to grasp the true nature of the event, despite the sorrow surrounding the caravan.

It was Kaoru who cleared up his confusion.

"It's not that kind of occasion, I'm afraid" said the miko, her gaze growing sad. "If you look to the front, you'll understand the grief they share."

The boy did as she instructed and soon saw the litter borne on two poles by four men.

'A funeral palanquin,' he recognized.

From the size of the basket and the flowers carried by the people in the procession, it was easy to discern that it belonged to a child.

"Is there a temple or shrine nearby?" Kaoru asked Kaito.

The boy shook his head.

"Not in this small village, I'm afraid. Farther ahead there's a prefecture, but it's a long way off. If there's a temple, shrine, or any religious institution, it must be even more remote."

Kaoru nodded.

"Then I'd better go offer my services."

Enishi immediately sprang forward, annoyed.

"We don't have time!" he protested.

But the miko didn't even pause at his complaints; she walked on with Kaito to prepare for the funeral rite.

"The company will rest in the meantime, so I'll be able to finish —she assured him. —We're almost two days ahead of schedule."

Enishi watched her leave, unable to think of a good argument to make her stay. It was hard for him to admit that, while he had trained his body and strength, he knew little of strategy or politics.

There was a time when he had admired the blue-eyed miko, even idealizing her almost the same way he idealized Shinji; but over the past year, she had become someone difficult to understand — and therefore irritating. More so now, when she seemed more like an adult than a peer his age. He wondered if that was what his sister meant when she asked him to reconsider his engagement to her.

And still, he waited awake for the miko's return.

... ... ... ...

The moon was already high in the sky when the priestess of Inari returned to the camp. More than one of the group had succumbed to sleep, and only the samurai and chokkai on watch remained standing.

As soon as the voices outside his tent signaled the miko's return, Enishi stepped out to meet her, a complaint already on his lips.

"It's quite late," he reproached the moment he stood in front of her—though he found himself unable to say anything more.

The miko, who had stopped in surprise at the interruption, looked exhausted. There was an air of sorrow around her that clung to the creases of her robes and the dirt that covered her.

Even so, Kaoru ended up smiling gently.

"I know. I'll go rest," she told him.

Enishi, once again, had no arguments to stop her. The priestess walked on, accompanied by Kaito and another member of the clergy—an older woman named Umi, who helped her change out of her garments.

... ... ... ...

Near midnight, Enishi got up to use the bathroom. On his way back, he stopped when he heard voices—some of the samurai and clergy talking quietly about what had happened during the burial in the village.

"It was a little girl. The mother was inconsolable."

"Such a tragedy."

"Apparently they were receiving support from the regional daimyō, but a little over a month ago, the clan in charge fell under the shogunate's forces."

"Many have died from illness."

"It's terrible."

"Her Excellency was remarkably composed. It's hard to believe how young she is."

"Especially after the accusations."

"It's to be expected. With the war so close, it's not easy to trust a stranger—even if she is Inari-sama herself."

Enishi considered those comments, spoken without malice. They weren't so different from the things people had once said about Shinji. And he wondered if there was any path where a leader could ever be fully accepted—without prejudice, without complaint.

All of them—Shinji, Kaoru, even Akira—had proven themselves to be empathetic leaders. The admiration people held for them was evident. But Enishi had also seen opposition, often from within the very groups they were meant to lead.

"Wouldn't it just be easier to eliminate them all?" he wondered.

Without realizing it, he had stopped in front of Kaoru's tent. He hesitated, debating whether to enter or not—then, pushing the heavy curtain aside, he stepped in without announcing himself.

He had wanted to scold her. To argue. But for the second time, his words died before reaching his lips.

Kaoru lay asleep on a futon, the bedding slightly disheveled, with clothes she had barely managed to remove scattered around her. She wore a simple sleeping kimono, already halfway in dreams.

Enishi, still tangled in the mess of his emotions, decided it would be better to bother her tomorrow.

"Baka..." (Idiot) he muttered as he left her tent—unsure whether he was saying it to her, or to himself.

Dear Neesan,

I tried to write this letter so many times. I tried when I was angry. I tried when I wanted revenge. I tried when I couldn't stop crying.

This one, I'm writing now that I'm just tired.

Maybe that's the best moment, because for the first time I'm not trying to be anything — not the heir, not strong, not your good little brother.

You asked me to live. You asked me to stop the cycle of revenge. I want to say I understand… but I don't. Not fully. I don't know if I can forgive the one who took Akira from us. I don't know if I'll ever be like you.

Kaoru is strange. She's infuriating. She makes me feel like I'm five again and don't know anything. But when I saw her walking with the funeral procession today, when I saw her stay beside that family even though it wasn't our mission, I thought of you. The way you used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep...

Maybe that's strength too. The quiet kind.

The next day, even before breakfast, the camp began to be packed up so they could depart as soon as the morning meal was done. To Enishi's surprise, Kaoru seemed just as calm as she had been the day before, prior to the funeral rites. They were also ahead of schedule, so the boy had no choice but to remain quiet and diligently attend to his assigned tasks.

The group split up after passing through three more stations. The caravan that would travel by sea departed first—there was luggage that could not be transported any other way due to its size, quantity, and for security reasons. For a moment, Enishi felt that with fewer people, the group moved more swiftly.

After having lunch, past midday at the fourth station, Enishi could no longer hold back what he had to admit.

"Fine. I admit it. You don't have to look so proud," he blurted suddenly, mid-meal.

Kaoru looked at him, confused, realizing it was the first time he'd spoken to her all day—and even more stranger that she hadn't noticed until now.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, halfway through biting into a rice ball.

Enishi's cheeks flushed red and his eyes turned away from her.

"We'll be back on the road soon," he offered by way of explanation, and Kaoru vaguely remembered what conversation he was referring to. "If we keep this pace, we might even recover a couple of hours."

The miko smiled.

"Edo's not going anywhere," she assured him, returning to her food.

"No. But it's not the city I'm going to see," he replied, mimicking her and returning to his meal. "Don't you want to see your family?"

Kaoru blinked, considering it for a moment. Even if she was going to Edo, the official reason for the trip was not a reunion, but rather to reinforce the notion that she was about to join another clan. The events she was set to attend were already scheduled—though they depended on the political and security situation in the city.

"Will I be allowed to?" she asked Kaito, her closest chokkai at the time.

He nodded with a timid smile.

"It's included in the visit itinerary, Your Excellency," he confirmed.

"Thank you very much," she replied.

After lunch, they waited one more hour before resting. Then, they adjusted the wagons and prepared to set off again. But as they returned to the road, Kaoru and her company saw the caravan surrounded by a small group of people—merchants and farmers, it seemed. One of them—likely the leader—was speaking with the samurai in charge of the caravan's security.

Kaoru approached them immediately.

"What's happening?" she asked.

The man looked somewhat apologetic, clearly concerned.

"They're travelers, it seems they're requesting to join our group," he explained.

Kaoru looked at the group. Most were women and children. The few men present were mostly elderly, while the younger men were hardly adults at all.

"Is there a risk of bandits?" she asked. It wasn't uncommon, given the times, for raiders to be out looking for food—especially with so many ronin roaming the roads.

The samurai shook his head.

"It doesn't seem to be the case. But... they clearly seek protection."

Enishi cut in before Kaoru could reply.

"They'll only slow us down," he complained. "We should leave them."

"Enishi-kun!" she scolded him.

But his earlier irritation had returned.

"You act like reaching Edo doesn't matter," he accused her. "I can understand the rest stops, but if we travel with another group, they'll only cause us problems. We'll have to move even more slowly."

He could have kept going, but the miko turned to face him fully—and even though they were now the same height, Enishi suddenly felt that she towered over him.

"You said you had a mission. I have mine," she said, her voice firm. Then she turned to the samurai.

"Tell them they can join us—but it's best we don't mention any aid in provisions."

The man blinked, understanding her concern.

"Do you think they're seeking sponsorship?"

She shook her head before answering.

"No. I think it's more likely due to the next station's permit."

Some stations along the road to Edo required special permits to pass through and enter different prefectures and villages. Considering the war-torn state of the country, the number of people denied passage was increasing. The permits were expensive, and many traveled in such poor conditions that they barely had enough to survive.

Once the arrangements were settled, they resumed travel. This time, Kaoru remained up front in one of the carts, leaving Enishi alone with his irritation. He muttered under his breath for much of the way.

Neesan,

I've been trying to write to you for days, but none of the words come out the way they should. At least not the important ones.

Kaoru-sama allowed some traveling merchants to rest near our fire and journey with us. She spoke to them as if they were old friends, laughed with them, sang songs I didn't know she knew.

Everyone watched her. I watched her.

I keep thinking of you, of the words you wrote. Of Akira-sama. Of duty. Of sacrifice... But I think I understand something now that I didn't before. Shinji was born to lead. You were born to protect.

But Kaoru… she was born to be followed.

She moves like fire. Gentle when she needs to be, unstoppable when she chooses to be. She commands no obedience, and yet… people listen to her. They sing around her. They believe in her, trust what she represents. They fight for her.

I would too.

And I hate that.

The group that had joined them split off when Kaoru's company took the mountain road leading into Edo.

In less than three days, they would arrive in the city.

Enishi was excited—just as Kaoru was. He knew it, even if she never expressed it openly. But he could see it in the way her smile was becoming more frequent, more transparent, more genuine. He noticed it in the way she sighed, with a clear longing in her eyes.

What Enishi didn't know, of course, was that such anticipation wasn't only about reuniting with her father—but about the possible reunion with a certain red-haired samurai. Perhaps if he had known, he would not have fallen for her; perhaps he could have rejected the hopes that had begun to bloom inside him even before he ever heard her sing.

On the second day of travel, just three stations away from their final destination, the group found themselves in need of supplies. Although they had tried not to share resources with the merchants and farmers who had traveled with them, in the end, it had proven impossible not to.

"You don't need to worry, Enishi-kun," Kaoru told him as soon as she noticed the look on his face. "This rest won't delay us as much as you think. We're still ahead."

He grumbled under his breath.

"I didn't say anything," he replied, hands on his hips.

Kaoru couldn't help but laugh.

They had found lodging in a nearby village, and a small group had already gone out in search of provisions. For once, they would sleep under a roof—and to the boy, that already felt like something.

The inn had a dojo, too, and Enishi had the fortune of watching Kaoru train. At first, while curious, he wasn't all that interested in simply being a spectator. But when he saw the miko's fluid, precise movements, something in his chest turned over. He recognized the katas. He had seen them before—when his late brother Akira practiced them.

"That's not the sanctuary's style," he remarked as soon as Kaoru finished.

She looked at him with a smile.

"No. It's my brother Koishijirou's style—the Kamiya Kasshin Ryū."

Enishi was about to say that his brother Akira had learned that same style too, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a secret.

"Is it hard to learn?" he asked instead.

Kaoru shook her head with a smile and approached him.

"No. It only demands physical endurance."

Enishi frowned.

"Endurance? Isn't strength what's needed to win a fight?"

Kaoru looked at him with a gentle understanding that only confused him more.

"My brother's philosophy says it's possible to use a sword to protect, rather than to kill."

The way she said it held such conviction that Enishi couldn't help but admire her.

"I know it sounds absurd, but you said it yourself that day in Kyoto. People can't avoid fighting—and everyone fights in their own way. Mine… I want it to be to protect, not to destroy."

The boy pondered those words, and in the middle of his reflection, he couldn't help but think of his sister—of how she, too, carried that fight in her own way, even if it was from the shadows. He realized they weren't so different from each other. Except perhaps that Kaoru was loud where his sister was quiet, vibrant where his sister was poised.

He studied Kaoru carefully. He thought it admirable that she practiced the style of her clan, but also useless—if she was going to become his wife and marry into the Kiyosato clan.

And then he remembered that their marriage was only a façade.

He wasn't sure why that truth bothered him so much—bothered him to the point of darkening his mood.

"Kaoru miko-sama," Kairo called as he entered with a reverent bow. "It is time for dinner."

"We're on our way," she replied, casting a glance at Enishi so he would follow.

He followed her without a word, in silence, while the chaos of his thoughts crashed against each other in his mind.

Neesan,

I think I can understand now why someone would seek to find honor in their life and choose to live by it. I see it as the desire to be a man worthy—not only for his family and nation, but also for himself.

But, Neesan, I also believe that every person can hold different values—and that's okay too.

Maybe one day, when I become a man you can admire and feel proud of, I'll be able to bring my vision of honor into reality.

A world where what I love can live without restriction, without fear of making mistakes. A world where I can protect my family from any shame or sorrow.

A world of second chances...

I wanted to write to you to say that I understand now. About Akira-sama. About you. About what it means to choose mercy when anger would be easier.

I remember your hands—how they held me when I had nightmares. You were more than a sister to me, and I loved you in a way a child could never fully explain. You were warmth, truth, and refuge—and for a long time, I believed I'd never find anything like that again after you were gone.

But I was wrong.

Kaoru miko-sama—at first, I thought she was prideful when she spoke with fire, and foolish when she forgave so easily. I thought she was soft where she should be stern. But I've seen her show another kind of strength—feminine and gentle, yet fierce when it matters.

She confuses me. She angers me. She makes my chest tighten in ways I can't explain. I thought I admired her because she reminded me of you. But now I see it's something else.

I desire her.

Not just as my betrothed in name. Not as a title or a duty to fulfill. I want her for myself. Completely. Not just in the eyes of the clan or the law…

You once told me that love is sacrifice—that to love is to give without expecting anything in return.

But Neesan… I don't know if I can love that way.

If I give… then I must also have.

It had happened before they reached the final station—just when they were about to regroup with the part of the company that had arrived earlier by sea.

But the recently settled conflict in Edo hadn't been fully resolved, and more than one faction continued to stir unrest and chaos in the outskirts. Passage had been momentarily blocked under a kind of curfew as skirmishes escalated.

And as fate would have it, one of these clashes reached the area where they had been resting.

"Enishi!"

The last thing he heard was his name on Kaoru miko-sama's lips. And even in the midst of panic, Enishi thought it had sounded sweet, spoken by her.

Maybe he was losing his mind too.

... ... ... ...

When the water swallowed him and dragged him down with its current, Enishi surrendered to that force. The blow to his head kept him from staying conscious.

How much time had passed? He didn't know.

But he drifted in and out of unconsciousness, again and again, in a circle that refused to end.

In truth, barely half a day had gone by.

... ... ... ...

When he finally woke, he could hardly speak—and the first thing he saw was the face of the miko.

"Enishi...!" she sobbed upon seeing him.

Her face was wet with tears, and she embraced him as tightly as the bed allowed.

... ... ... ...

That was the first time he didn't think of his sister.

... ... ... ...

Neesan,

One of the healers said I was lucky. That if the blade had gone a little deeper, I wouldn't be writing this.

I used to believe that strength was the only measure that mattered—that honor, obedience, and a noble name were the only things that gave someone value. And yet, the very people I once scorned were the ones who pulled me from the river. Not because they knew who I was, but because they believed no one should die alone.

They said it was the villagers who saved me. The same villagers I once thought weak. They gave me rice. Stayed up to watch over me. One of the children even prayed for me.

And Kaoru-sama… she came back for me. Even after I was separated from the caravan, even after the ambush—even though she could have gone ahead, she still returned. To care for me, to wait for me to heal, to wake.

Her face was soaked with tears... I remember how she held me...

And something inside me broke, Neesan. Or maybe it finally woke up.

This marriage—the one you and she believe should be only a political bond—is more than that. I've decided it won't be a farce. Not for me.

If you're reading this, I know what you'll say. I can almost hear your voice, telling me to be careful about what I think love is—that I'm still young, still learning.

But you're wrong.

I've never been more certain of anything in my life.

And if anyone stands in my way…

I'll cut them down.

A/N: Is anybody out there?! Aunque tarde pero...

Happy Spring Break!