Reides was crying again.
The boy was curled around his leg, sobbing quietly and making his father wonder if it wouldn't be better to just throw out this pair of pants, as they might be past saving.
Beside Marcus Ayashi, his wife was delivering a lecture, most of her attention on the glimmering silver sword she was sharpening. She always did that when she was stressed.
He resisted heaving a sigh, instead half-heartedly patting Reides' mop of white hair. It was the only visible part of the boy.

"We were just playing! Rei's bein' a crybaby, I didn't do anything."

He looked to the right, where his older son was arguing his case. The grin on Ginmei's face wasn't fooling anybody. He'd have to remember to teach the kid a better poker face.

"Call your brother by his name. And don't talk back to me. Go practice with Kana." His wife's voice was stern, but their son wasn't deterred.

"Rei," Ginmei emphasized the nickname, "needs to practice too. That's why we were playing." He paused, then his grin turned sly.
"If you coddle him, he won't learn. Then he'll end up just like Dirren, you remember-"

He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a blade, which had planted itself in the grass an inch from Ginmei's nose. Marcus wondered where he'd a learned to talk like that. And then wondered who'd made the mistake of telling him about Dirren. The loss of her nephew had hit Kozue especially hard.
Ginmei fell silent, watching his mother draw the sword from the ground and sheathe it at her back.
Kozue Ayashi was beautiful, Marcus thought. Currently, he was more likely to agree with those who found her terrifying. Her wild hair, shockingly white, just as all in her line had, was falling over her face. It was a windy evening, and she'd never cared much for putting it up.

"You will be silent. I won't hear you until tomorrow morning. Not a word, learn your place." Kozue didn't ask if she was understood. There was no question of that. Her voice cut through the sound of the wind, and the growing campfire. Even Reides had fallen still, his face still buried in his father's knee.
Ginmei stared back at her, but his mouth stayed closed, and the corners of his lips upturned.

"And Reides," she said, tone no softer. The boy in question was immediately standing straight, eyes raw and red but fixed on her with all of the attention his seven years could muster. He rubbed at his face, blinking away the tears.

"No more crying. It's time you stopped acting like a child."
Marcus was afraid that would have Reides bawling again, but his lip only quivered. There was a beat of silence, and then he sniffed stubbornly.

Satisfied with that, Kozue swiftly turned, striding with purpose. It was only when she'd disappeared into the trees surrounding their camp that Gin's smile faded. Reides was still struggling not to burst into tears a second time.
Marcus watched his first-born wander over to the fire, kicking dust and dirt into it. He watched the sparks for for a few moments, then spoke sharply.
"Ginmei."
His little hands curled into fists, and he kicked harder at the flames.
"Gin."
The kicking stopped, and Ginmei put his hands behind his back and smiled innocently at his father.

Marcus waited for him to speak, because that was a talent of Ginmei's, but the boy only continued to smile. Belatedly, his father remembered Kozue's rule for the night.

Something shook his arm, and Marcus looked down. Big blue eyes stared back.
"We were just playing. Ginnie didn't even do anything." He said it so seriously, one would almost forget he'd just been crying about Gin trying to gut him.
With his face finally visible, Marcus could see the thin scratch on Reides' cheek. It was new. He looked back at the fire just in time to catch Ginmei attempting to sneak away.

"Come here, son."
Ginmei approached, muttering something in response that Marcus didn't catch. It was probably just as well.

"You did this?" He gestured to his younger son. Ginmei's eyes flicked away, but he gave a short nod.

"I was the monster. Ginnie missed an' I got hit," Reides offered, by way of explanation.

Ginmei held out the dagger, before Marcus had a chance to ask for it.
He picked it up and held it while he spoke.

"Your mother gave this to you."
The man heaved a heavy breath and considered his words carefully. Reides watched the proceedings silently.

"Do you know why she did?"

Ginmei performed a very convincing pantomime of staking a vampire. Marcus was pretty sure that was from a movie they'd watched recently.

"No, that's not why." He had to resist chuckling, this was supposed to be a serious conversation. Ginmei, meanwhile, looked annoyed he hadn't gotten it right.

"You're the older brother." Marcus wasn't sure why Ginmei crossed his arms then, almost pouting, but he pressed on.
"That means you need to protect Reides. Not hurt him. He's counting on you."
Ginmei's pout wavered, and he glanced at Reides.
"We fight monsters so they don't hurt anyone. Especially people we care about." Marcus watched Ginmei's eyes trace the scratch on his little brother's face. He held out the knife he'd taken.
"That's what this is for. Protecting your family. Do you understand?"
A nod, and a smile.
"Promise me you'll take care of him, no matter what happens," Marcus spoke quietly, then waited.
"You can speak, it's alright."

Ginmei took the blade, and it went back on his belt. Reides followed its progress with wide eyes.
"I'll protect Rei. Promise." Ginmei spoke with a solemnity Marcus didn't know he had.
"Me too," Reides piped up. Both turned to look at him in surprise.
"I'll train too, and protect Dad and Ginnie!"
Marcus laughed. "What about your mother?" Reides gave the question serious thought.

"She doesn't need it. Mom's the strongest!"
Ginmei snorted, but soon his attention was back on their father.  "I'll train Rei. Once I'm good enough. He'll be safe with me." He was trying to look as convincing as possible, his father could tell.
Marcus ruffled Ginmei's hair.
"I trust you, Gin. Don't worry."