Carrying Hao in his arms, Nakago walked toward a vast clearing in the garden. The sunlight bathed the open space in a warm glow, and the gentle rustling of leaves filled the air.
"Do you know what a spirit animal is, Hao?" Nakago asked softly, his voice calm and steady.
The boy shook his head, his curious eyes fixed on Nakago. "No."
"A spirit animal is a special animal that represents who you are or who you could become," Nakago explained, his tone patient, simplifying the concept for the three-year-old. "It's like having a special friend who shows you how to live, how to be strong, and how to face challenges in life."
Hao's eyes lit up as the idea clicked in his mind. "Then my spirit animal is a dog!" he said enthusiastically. "Because my friends and teacher said I'm happy, friendly, and bright!"
"That you are," Nakago said with a soft smile. "But when you grow up, you should try to be like an eagle."
"An eagle?" Hao asked, his small face scrunching in thought. "Why?"
"Because an eagle soars high above the ground," Nakago began, his voice taking on a more reflective tone. "It faces storms by flying into them, not away. It doesn't avoid challenges; it rises above them. And no matter how high it flies, it always sees everything clearly. Life will have storms, Hao, but like an eagle, you must face them and keep soaring, no matter what."
He spoke with purpose, knowing the boy's bright and trusting eyes would one day face the harshness of life. He wanted Hao to remember this moment, to carry it with him when those trials came.
Hao seemed to ponder this for a moment before flashing a wide smile. "But I like dogs," he said with the simplicity of a child's heart.
Nakago smiled faintly, his expression tinged with something that almost resembled sorrow. "You can be whoever and whatever you want to be, young master, as long as you never give up. Promise me that."
"I promise!" Hao said, his voice cheerful and full of trust.
From the direction of the house, a woman's voice broke through the calm. "Hao!" Eula called out, her tone frantic as she rushed toward them.
Hao squirmed slightly in Nakago's arms, turning to face her. "Mama! This is—" He paused and looked back at Nakago with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know your name."
Nakago let out a soft chuckle, thinking how easily the boy had trusted him despite not knowing who he was. That simple, unguarded trust was a luxury he knew life would one day take from Hao.
"Nakago. Nakago Toheyama."
Hao beamed. "Nice to meet you, Sir Nakago. Are you friends with my Mama?"
Nakago glanced at Eula, his gaze unreadable. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with both fear and heartbreak.
"No," Nakago said evenly, his voice devoid of emotion. "I'm not your Mama's friend." His next words were measured, deliberate. "But I know your Papa. And he asked me to bring you to him today."
Eula let out an audible gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. The reality she had fought so hard to escape had finally caught up with her. The weight of Nakago's words fell like a hammer, crushing the fragile hope she had clung to.
Her heart broke not just for herself but for Hao—and for Alfred, Marie, and Layla, the people who had risked everything to help her. She knew what this meant. The price of her defiance was now due, and they would all have to pay it.
Her knees nearly buckled under the weight of her emotions, but she forced herself to stay upright for Hao. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched Nakago hand her son back to her, the boy obliviously chattering about the new friend he'd made.
"My love, why don't you go to Nanny Marie and help her pack your things so we can go," Eula said, forcing her voice to remain steady, though the cracks in her resolve threatened to show.
"Okay, Mama," Hao replied cheerfully. The moment she set him down, he dashed toward the house, his small figure disappearing through the door.
A long, heavy silence followed. Neither Eula nor Nakago spoke, the weight of unspoken words filling the space between them. Katarina stood a short distance away, her gaze quietly observing the exchange, offering no intervention.
Finally, Eula broke the silence, her voice trembling but determined. "Was… was it you who was with Katarina that night?"
Nakago knew what she meant. He gave a small nod, confirming her suspicion.
"You didn't come down, didn't even introduce yourself," Eula said, her voice rising with a mix of anger, sorrow, and confusion. "So why show your face now?" She fixed him with a piercing stare, her emotions barely held in check. "Are you here to make sure we don't run? Your wife seems more than capable of ensuring that."
"Yes, she is," Nakago admitted without hesitation. "She's very capable. But I didn't come here to ensure you wouldn't escape. I came because I wanted you to see my face."
Eula's brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" she asked, her tone sharp. "What for?"
"So that you would know," Nakago said, his voice steady yet tinged with a deep sadness, "and never forget the face of the man you will hate and blame for the hell you and your son will live in after today."
His honesty was brutal, and for a moment, Eula could only stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Her lips trembled, and the tears she had been holding back began to fall.
"What was the price?" she asked, her voice breaking. "What did you get in exchange for sacrificing us?"
Nakago's gaze remained fixed on hers, unflinching. "Your husband will not harm anyone bearing the Toheyama name," he answered with the same blunt honesty.
Eula's hands curled into fists, her sorrow giving way to frustration. "But aren't you capable of defending yourself?" she demanded, her eyes darting to Katarina. Her unspoken accusation was clear—if anyone needed protection, it wasn't Nakago or his wife. It was anyone foolish enough to cross them.
Nakago followed her gaze before answering, his voice quieter now. "I have a sister. She's sixteen. And I promised our mother, before she died, that I would give her a normal life."
Eula's expression softened, her anger giving way to a pained understanding. She nodded slowly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I see," she said softly. "Then I hope you keep that promise. I hope you give her the normal, happy life she deserves."
Her voice broke as she added, "And I hope she lives that life on behalf of me and my son."
Nakago's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Words felt inadequate in the face of Eula's quiet resignation. She turned away from him, her shoulders trembling as she struggled to compose herself, knowing her son would return at any moment.
Katarina, still watching from her place, remained silent. But the look in her mismatched eyes betrayed a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or an acknowledgment of the weight her husband carried.
Nakago stood rooted in place, knowing there was no solace he could offer Eula, no words that could ease the pain of what was about to come. This was the cost of his decisions, and he would bear it silently, as he always had.