Morning sunlight filtered through the stronghold's high windows, casting a gentle warmth across the stone hallways and sparking an amber glow in the dust motes that danced in the air. Jurou moved quietly, his footsteps softened by years of practice as Kazuichi's attendant. He had once been known as the "shadow" of Kazuichi's family, and he still retained his poised, reserved nature. Now, as he walked, he adjusted the collar of his jacket, his gaze scanning each hallway in the meticulous way he'd never let go. Old habits die hard.
Stepping into the central hall, he saw the bustling morning activity as residents and allies gathered for another day's tasks. Yet, despite the changes in life here, Jurou felt a calm detachment from the lively chatter. His role, after all, was one of quiet service and vigilance, watching over the stronghold and, most importantly, over Kazuichi—the one he still respectfully addressed as "young master."