The morning sun blazed over Amegase, its light spilling across the patchwork of fields that surrounded the tiny village. Mamoru shaded his eyes, watching as the villagers bent low, their bodies dripping with sweat as they pulled weeds and tended to the struggling crops. The earth here was thin, the soil stony, and the people moved with the heaviness of those who worked too hard for too little.
Mamoru frowned. His hands gripped the hilt of his sword at his side, then loosened. Finally, he turned to Gyomei, who stood like a stone pillar behind him, beads in hand.
"Gyomei," Mamoru said firmly, "let's spend a week here. I want to help the villagers out. It's not much, but it's something. Hopefully Mr Hitetsu doesnt mind , i think we've been good guests ."
Gyomei blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The more time he spent with Mamoru the more he realized how different he was from the usual .
"…Your compassion amazes me Mamoru" Gyomei said quietly, his deep voice reverberating. "Very well. If this is your wish, I shall follow."
Onimaru barked once, tail wagging, as if approving the decision.
By midday, Mamoru and Gyomei were out among the farmers. At first, the villagers were wary a tall boy with scarred hands, the noble boy with a blade at his hip. But Mamoru only smiled, rolled up his sleeves, and took up the baskets of grain as though they weighed nothing.
"Here, let me carry this," Mamoru said cheerfully to an elderly farmer struggling under the load of harvested rice.
The man tried to refuse. "No you're guests, you shouldn't"
But Mamoru lifted the basket with one hand and slung it over his shoulder, grinning. "Don't worry! I'm stronger than I look."
The old farmer's protests died as he watched the boy trot off toward the storage hut, his laughter echoing under the wide sky. Gyomei followed behind with two baskets balanced on his massive shoulders, his steps steady, his silence unshakable. The villagers at first were surprised on how he could see even though he was blind , but quickly got used to it .
Later in the week, Mamoru and Gyomei joined in the hunt. The villagers had little success trapping animals in the nearby forest, but Mamoru just decided to go hunt a bigger animal . One evening, as the sun dipped low, he returned to the village carrying a boar 3x larger than him, sweat glistening on his brow, but his eyes alight with pride.
"Dinner!" he shouted with a grin.
The children of the village came running, cheering, while the adults stared in awe. The boar was 3x as larger than Mamoru himself, yet he carried it as though it were no heavier than firewood. Onimaru bounded ahead of him, barking triumphantly. Onimaru also played a huge part because if he were not with Mamoru, Mamoru would have certainly not made it back to the village .
The villagers cooked that night on open fires, sharing stew and roasted meat. Gyomei sat with the men, quietly breaking down logs for firewood with his bare hands, while Mamoru chased laughing children around the fire, his smile wide and his laughter contagious.
For Gyomei, it was a strange, humbling week. Each night he sat in silence, watching Mamoru who apologized on behalf of a cruel world ,work without expectation of reward. He trusted Mamoru but his distrust for children was still there but slowly his one sided distrust for children began changing.
On the seventh night, as Mamoru prepared to say his farewells, the villagers stopped him. The beach of Amegase lit up with lanterns, their paper shells glowing like stars fallen to earth. Drums pounded, shamisen strings twanged, and the air was rich with the smell of food and smoke.
"Stay, Friends! Just for tonight!" A villager said, bowing low.
Mamoru's eyes widened. "A party? For us?"
"For you," the man said firmly. "And for the man who stood at your side. Amegase has known hardship recently . But this week you gave us strength. Let us return even a fragment of that kindness."
The festival burst to life. Women poured sake into cups until they overflowed, children danced with paper streamers, and the men sang songs of old Wano, their voices rising in rough but heartfelt harmony.
Mamoru was swept into it, laughing as children tugged him toward a circle dance. Onimaru darted through the crowd, snatching bits of grilled fish from skewers when no one was looking. Gyomei, at first sitting alone at the edge, was eventually dragged into the heart of the revelry by two insistent farmers who pressed sake into his hands and clapped his back until he relented.
When the drums reached their peak, Mamoru clambered atop a barrel, raising his cup high. His cheeks were flushed with warmth, his voice bright as the moon above.
"To Amegase!" he shouted. "To the farmers, to the hunters, to the people who work harder than anyone and yet still smile! You are the heart of Wano! And you are the reason why we train so hard!"
A roar of cheers answered him. Cups clashed, sake spilled, and laughter echoed across the fields.
Gyomei sat back, watching the boy who had pulled him from despair stand proudly among the villagers. He felt something stir in his chest
In the midst of it all, Mamoru stood and clapped his hands together. "Everyone," he called out, his voice carrying over the noise, "I want to teach you a song. It's one Lord Oden taught me during our travels. He said he learned it from faraway lands across the seas. I don't know where it truly began, but Oden told me it was always sung in times of joy, to celebrate life together."
The villagers quieted, gathering close with eager smiles. Mamoru lifted his cup of sake and began to sing, his voice clear and warm:
"Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho
Gather up all of the crew!
It's time to ship out Bink's brew!
Sea wind blows
To where? Who knows?
The waves will be our guide!
O'er across the ocean's tide
Rays of sunshine far and wide
Birds they sing of cheerful things, in circles passing by!
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho "
At first the people simply listened, but then one by one, they joined in children shouting the "yohohoho!" with glee, elders swaying with laughter, and even Gyomei humming the rhythm under his breath. The song carried through the fields and into the night, a chorus of joy that echoed against the hills surrounding Amegase.
It became the heartbeat of the celebration, a memory carved into the villagers' hearts the night Mamoru shared with them a song from distant seas, a song that bound them all together as family, if only for that one fleeting evening.