Soul of a Samurai

Today was… different.

For the past two years, my life had followed the same pattern—train, eat, sleep, repeat.

Every day was a test of endurance, a battle against my own limits.

But today, there was no training.

No push-ups. No sprints. No sword swings.

Because today—was my birthday.

"Happy birthday, Kyojin."

My mother greeted me with a warm smile as she ruffled my hair.

It was strange. My last birthday had been nothing special—just a simple acknowledgment.

But this time, my mother had insisted on doing something special.

Even my father, who rarely took breaks, had given me the day off.

I wasn't sure how to feel about it.

I had grown so used to training that the idea of not training felt almost unnatural.

But when my mother held my hand and told me, "Let's go," I didn't argue.

We walked through the village, the air crisp with the scent of winter approaching.

The streets were lively, filled with merchants selling goods and samurai patrolling in their gleaming armor.

I had been through this village countless times before, but today felt different.

Maybe because I wasn't just passing through.

Today, we were here to enjoy ourselves.

We ended up at the hot springs.

Apparently, it was one of the best in the Land of Iron, known for its healing properties.

Mother thought it would be nice for all of us to relax for once.

Father didn't object.

I followed along, curious.

The moment I stepped into the warm water, I understood why people liked this place.

It was… comfortable.

Too comfortable.

My body, so used to constant strain, felt like it was melting.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

For the first time in a long while, I felt… at peace.

Even Father, who always carried an air of discipline, looked content as he leaned against the edge of the spring.

Mother was humming softly, her long black hair floating on the water's surface.

It was a simple moment.

But it was nice.

After the hot springs, we walked through the marketplace.

Mother bought me some sweet dumplings—something I had never eaten before.

The taste was… strange.

Soft, chewy, and incredibly sweet.

I liked it.

Father didn't get any for himself, but I noticed him take a small piece from Mother's.

He acted indifferent, but I caught the slight nod of approval he gave after tasting it.

Mother laughed.

I smiled.

By the time we returned home, the sun had begun to set.

Mother cooked dinner—a rare occasion, since I usually ate simple meals.

Tonight, however, she made something special.

A warm stew filled with meat and vegetables, along with fresh rice and grilled fish.

The flavors were rich and comforting.

It was one of the best meals I had ever eaten.

As I ate, I realized something.

For two years, my life had been about pushing myself, about growing stronger.

But today…

Today was simply about being with my family.

After dinner, I felt sleep creeping in.

I didn't fight it.

I let my mother tuck me into bed, her soft hands brushing against my forehead.

Father stood by the door, arms crossed, watching with his usual unreadable expression.

But just before he left, he spoke.

"Rest well, Kyojin."

It was rare for him to say something so simple, yet meaningful.

I closed my eyes, a small smile on my face.

Tomorrow, I would return to training.

But tonight, I would rest.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself enjoy that feeling.