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It was a few months after the end of the war in Inazuma and an uneasy peace had settled in the country. Gorou had been busy in the aftermath, cleaning up the events of the war and handling the everyday logistics of running an army as a general. It was little wonder when the day his birthday came around, Gorou had forgotten about it.
Gorou may have forgotten about his birthday but his men certainly did not.
His men showed up at his home in Watatsumi, a small group of them at least, and Gorou had initially been worried. Has something bad happened? Was there an enemy attack? All his worries were thankfully, for naught when his men shouted in unison, “Happy birthday!”
Gorou blinked in surprise before realisation sunk in. After thanking his men for the nice surprise greeting, they pulled out a small wooden box and handed it over to Gorou. Gorou had been tempted to shake it, only for his men to immediately warn him not to as soon as the box touched his hands. They urged him to open it, excited to see Gorou’s reaction.
It was difficult to open the box with one hand, with his other holding on to the box, but Gorou managed in the end and what greeted him inside the box was none other than a slice of the most delicious looking strawberry shortcake that Gorou had ever seen. How could he accept such an exquisite thing? How could he allow himself to accept this beautiful thing as a gift, as a birthday gift at that!
“Gorou, please take it,” his men said, unaware of Gorou’s inner turmoil over the cake. “We heard from someone that you love cakes so we thought that you might want to eat one for your birthday.”
Maybe he should decline the gift, this gift was not worthy for someone of his stature. Rather, this cake should be placed on an altar and be offered up to Orobashi. This cake should be food for the gods, not generals! Wait, but it would be rude to decline the gift when his men put so much thought and effort into getting it for him. What was he to do now?
“Sir? Are you okay?” one of his men asked in concern when Gorou had spent over ten minutes staring down at the cake in the box.
“Of course I am,” Gorou answered, his voice pitched higher than he expected. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Gorou was still stuck in his dilemma until a sudden idea came to him, what if he treated this like one of his readers asking him for advice?
At first, he tried to imagine himself in their shoes but it was too hard to imagine the scenario when his men were awkwardly waiting for him to dismiss them. Gorou shoved the box to one of his men, careful not to let the cake fall or smash into the side of the box, before ordering them to stay there before running back into his house and pulling out his writing materials. He set his pen down on the paper and started writing, pretending that he was one of his many readers.
I received a cake today for my birthday from my treasured companions and I love cakes but should I accept it? As a general, I need to exercise restraint and lead by example but by declining their gift, it seems rude when they put in time and effort to get it for me. I don’t want to disappoint them but I don’t want to immediately accept it just because. What should I do?
Gorou nodded to himself, putting the pen away and closing his eyes. He channelled his focus to become the author of “That’s Life” and pretended the letter in his hand was written, not by him a minute ago, but by an anonymous reader.
What would be a good way to solve this dilemma? Would it be a good idea to turn down the gift or would it be a good idea to accept it? Rather, there was nothing that mentioned that the gift could not be shared with everyone.
Nodding to himself, he wrote the advice down on the paper…only to realise that there was not a need to since he was the one who wrote the letter. He quickly buried the self-written letter into the folds of his blanket and swore to tear it up when he had time alone later.
He looked back at the rest of his writing materials and an idea came to mind. He sat back down and picked up his pen again. If he was sharing his cake with his men, he wanted to share it with the Traveller and Kazuha as well.
Listen, my fondness for sweet foods somehow reached the ears of the soldiers at Watatsumi Island . As a result, they prepared a cake for me, saying, "Gorou, please take it."
Conditions at Watatsumi Island are not that well, and I should exercise restraint as a general... But if I refuse this cake, I'm afraid I'll disappoint them.
So I try to put myself in their shoes! If I receive a letter asking for help in a similar situation, how should I give advice?
"Share this cake with soldiers and friends, and when there is something good in the future, share it with others."
Yep! That's the way to go!
Let's have the cake together!
With two letters written and ready to be sent out, he stepped out and smiled when he saw his men still standing outside, having obeyed his strange orders. Gorou took the box from his subordinate hands, smiling as he said, “Thank you for the gift! However, I think that this is a gift that should be shared with everyone. Let us divide this cake and allow everyone to have a taste of it.”
His men looked dumbfounded at his request, as if they could not believe the words that came out of Gorou’s lips.
“Also, please deliver these letters for me as soon as possible,” Gorou said, passing the two letters in his hand to a soldier. The soldier stared at the letters, saluted and left.
However, when Gorou turned back to the rest of the soldiers, he noticed that a few of them were trying to hide their snickers. He tilted his head, confused at what they had found funny.
“Sir,” one of them called out, smiling amusedly at him. “We appreciate the sentiment, but it would be very difficult to divide a cake that small for every single soldier in the camp.”
And oh…Gorou had forgotten to consider how tiny the cake would be once divided into thousands of smaller pieces. Rather than think about how to divide a cake into impossible numbers, he had a more pressing matter to fix.
“The letter! Don’t send it!” Gorou cried out as he shoved the box (again, being very careful not to jostle the cake too much) into a soldier’s arms and made a mad dash in the direction that the soldier carrying his letters had run off in.