Nijo Castle, Kyoto
The room was heavy with heat, incense, and the quiet tension of those gathered: high-ranking government officials, the crown family, and descendants of the old shoguns.
Crown Prince Takeshi tapped his glass sharply, the sound echoing through the chamber. Silence fell.
"My fellow countrymen — it grieves me to say, our country has lost. The divine wind no longer flies with us… yet it still fills our hearts and our bodies. We will not let them take our dignity. We will not surrender. We are the children of Japan."
With those words, he drew the kusanagi, pressed it to his chest, and drove it into his heart.
A hush rippled through the hall. Then one by one, the others knelt before him, bowed their heads, and repeated the ritual. The echo of steel and resolve filled the chamber — a river of silence flowing through the room.
When they came to claim the castle, there was no one left to surrender. Only the quiet, and the lingering scent of honor and ash.