Tetsuhiro Nabeshima

It was just past noon, but a tranquil atmosphere filled the room. Only the thunk, thunk, of someone chopping wood in the distance, and the sound of livestock outside, could be faintly heard through the walls. The two of them liked this kind of atmosphere. As fellow followers of the blade, this background noise was far more pleasant than the hustle and bustle of the city that could disturb the mind.

I didn’t think everyone had to be a saint, but at the very least, all adults had a responsibility to provide what little guidance they could to children who knew nothing about the world.

This guy was scum. There was no mistaking that. It wasn’t my place to pass judgment on him, though. That would be vigilantism.

Telling the truth didn’t always lead to a better result. By taking into account the circumstances, timing, and boundaries, it seemed better not to talk about it.

Pretty much all children were cute, but the emotions I felt for my own child—even if she was only my daughter on paper—were on a different level.

Children are a nation’s treasures. It is our duty as adults to protect them above all else.

No matter the nation, adults were responsible for molding the present. However, children would shape the future.

Pushing yourself too hard every day didn’t lead to anything good—growth required a moderate burden accompanied by adequate rest.

At my age, if I discovered a new talent for anything, I would need considerable courage to devote myself to it—especially if I wasn’t sure that my talent would blossom.

In all things, having someone to compete against was for the better. No matter how tremendous a talent you had lying dormant, there was a limit to what could be achieved on your own. By competing with others and going to someone for guidance, you fostered your own growth.