Chapter 3 – Threads of the Ordinary
Date: Early Autumn, Meiji 31 (1898)
Location: Azabu District
Age: 5 years old
---
Autumn arrived quietly in Azabu.
It crept in with cooler mornings, with the faint scent of fallen leaves and charcoal smoke, with the way sunlight softened instead of blazed. Kai noticed these things because he trained himself to notice everything.
He knelt in the orphanage courtyard, small fingers carefully untangling a basket of herbs.
"This one is bruised," he muttered, setting it aside. "Still usable, but not for tea."
[Correct classification: 94% accuracy]
Kai nodded once, satisfied.
Across the yard, Oba-san watched him from the doorway, arms folded tightly into her sleeves.
"You sort those better than half the merchants in Azabu," she said. "Where did you learn?"
Kai didn't look up. "I watched. And asked."
She clicked her tongue. "Troublesome child."
But she didn't tell him to stop.
---
Later that day, Kai sat near the front gate with a needle and thread. A torn sleeve lay across his lap. His brow furrowed in concentration as he guided the needle through cloth thicker than his small fingers preferred.
[Adjust stitch length: durability increase +18%]
He adjusted immediately.
A woman from the neighborhood paused, watching him work.
"…Is that orphan fixing clothes?" she asked aloud.
Kai looked up, smiling politely. "Yes. If you want, I can fix small tears."
She hesitated. "…How much?"
Kai thought carefully.
"Two sen," he said.
Cheap enough not to offend. Valuable enough to matter.
She handed him a sleeve with a rip near the cuff. "If you ruin it, I'm not paying."
"That's fair," Kai said calmly.
Twenty minutes later, she stared at the finished stitch, fingers tracing the seam.
"…You did that?"
Kai nodded.
She placed four sen into his hand.
"For honesty," she said gruffly, then walked away.
Kai watched her go, heart steady.
Money earned through trust lasts longer, he thought.
[Economic principle logged.]
---
That afternoon, Mitsuri found him sitting beneath the wisteria tree again, carefully counting coins into neat little stacks.
"Kai!" she called, plopping down beside him. "What are you doing?"
"Budgeting," he replied seriously.
She blinked. "…What's that?"
He smiled. "Making sure I don't starve later."
She gasped. "That sounds sad!"
"It's practical."
She frowned at the coins. "You're really amazing, you know that?"
Kai glanced at her. "You carried firewood twice your size yesterday."
"That's different!"
"How?"
She opened her mouth… then closed it, cheeks puffing. "I don't know!"
He laughed quietly, a soft sound that made her heart flutter for reasons she didn't understand.
---
They walked together through Azabu as the sun lowered, Mitsuri talking nonstop.
"Mama says I should learn to be more gentle," she complained. "But I don't want to be weak!"
Kai listened, hands tucked into his sleeves.
"Strength and gentleness aren't opposites," he said.
She stopped walking. "They aren't?"
"No," he replied, turning to face her. "The strongest things protect what's soft."
Mitsuri stared at him, eyes wide.
"…You sound like a grown-up."
Kai smiled awkwardly. "I read a lot."
That wasn't exactly a lie.
---
That night, the air felt heavier.
Kai sensed it the moment the sun dipped fully below the horizon. The world changed—subtle, but unmistakable.
[Environmental alert: Elevated threat potential detected.]
Kai froze mid-step.
"…Not here," he whispered.
He slipped back into the orphanage quietly, locking the doors the way Hachiro had taught him. Oba-san frowned.
"Why so early?" she asked.
Kai swallowed. "Bad feeling."
She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "You're too young to worry so much."
But she barred the windows anyway.
Kai sat among the other children as they slept, eyes open in the dark.
If a demon comes, he thought calmly, I can't fight it.
Not yet.
So he listened.
Minutes passed. Then an hour.
Nothing came.
But Kai did not relax.
---
Before dawn, he slipped outside alone.
The ground was cold beneath his feet. He stood in the open, breathing slowly.
Inhale.
Guide.
Circulate.
His breath warmed his chest, spreading gently instead of burning.
[Stability improving. Output minimal but controlled.]
Kai opened his eyes.
The grass around his feet was dry despite the morning dew.
"…It's working," he whispered, awe and fear twisting together.
But then his knees buckled.
[Immediate rest required.]
He collapsed onto the earth, panting softly, staring up at the paling sky.
Too much, he admitted. I'm still too small.
But the path was there now.
---
When Kai returned, Oba-san was waiting.
"Where did you go?" she demanded.
He bowed deeply. "I'm sorry."
She scolded him, of course. But when she turned away, Kai noticed her hands were shaking.
She had been worried.
That realization settled quietly in his chest.
I don't fight only for the future, he realized. I fight for this moment too.
---
That afternoon, Hachiro brought him an old book.
"It's about basic anatomy," the doctor said casually. "Pictures only. Don't get ideas."
Kai accepted it with reverence. "Thank you."
Hachiro eyed him sharply. "You're planning something."
Kai met his gaze, expression innocent. "I want to be useful."
The old man laughed. "Dangerous ambition."
But he didn't take the book back.
---
As evening fell, Kai sat near Mitsuri's house, watching lanterns light one by one.
"Mitsuri," he said softly.
"Yes?"
"If one day things get scary," he began carefully, "promise you'll listen to me."
She tilted her head. "Why?"
He smiled gently. "Because I want you to be happy for a very long time."
Her face flushed pink. "Y-You say strange things…"
But she nodded anyway. "Okay!"
Kai watched the lantern light reflect in her eyes.
One promise at a time, he thought.
The threads were forming.
Ordinary days.
Quiet bonds.
A sun still learning how to rise.
And fate, unaware, continued to walk toward him.