Doraemon: Starting by Taking Care of Tamako Nobi

Tap tap tap 

A flurry of footsteps echoed over the grassy path as Hiro and his companions arrived at the outskirts of the village, where the ancient Mokunen Temple stood.

Once a revered and bustling place of worship, the temple had long since fallen into the hands of the Horse-Faced Gang, who used it as a base to oppress the surrounding villages.

"This is it," Hiro whispered, unsheathing Electrosaber. "Ready, everyone? Let's go!"

Golden light flashed into the courtyard. Sword gleaming like lightning, Hiro cut down the thug standing guard at the entrance in one swift motion.

"Argh!" The goon collapsed with a grunt.

Doraemon and the others followed up with their gadgets. Using the Air Cannon, Noby fired from the back, his fear keeping him at a safe distance but his aim remained sharp and precise.

"What's going on out there?! Who are you brats, daring to cause trouble on Horse-Faced Gang turf?"

The temple doors slammed open. A horse-faced man in middle age stormed out, glaring at the fallen thug now beneath Hiro's foot.

"Wow, that face is hilarious!" Noby burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. "Everyone in this gang looks like they came from a cartoon!"

The horse-faced man snarled and drew his katana. From inside the temple, dozens more thugs emerged, brandishing weapons and surrounding the group.

"Shinmen Musashi!" Hiro called out.

"Yes, Master!" Musashi stood at attention.

"I keep telling you, I'm not your master. Anyway, here, take the sword. Deal with these guys."

Without giving Musashi a chance to refuse, Hiro shoved Electrosaber into his hands and pushed him forward, immediately ducking back to safety.

His thinking was simple: Musashi needed to experience victory firsthand to overcome his fear of combat. With Electrosaber in hand, perhaps he'd finally gain confidence.

"Aah, no! I can't do this!" Musashi shouted as Electrosaber dragged him forward, locking onto the nearest target.

"Stop! I don't want to fight!"

He pulled on the hilt to stop himself, but the sword kept sliding forward, dragging his feet across the ground.

"Is this really going to work?" Doraemon asked with concern.

"He looks just like Noby when he's panicking," Suneo added smugly.

"Hey, I heard that!" Noby fumed from behind them.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

In the middle of their chatter, Musashi struck.

Though his eyes were shut tight, the sword moved with unnatural precision, guided by instinct or perhaps by Electrosaber itself.

The blade shimmered and flashed, each swing slicing through the air with sharp, piercing whistles.

Clang! Clang!

The battlefield was a whirlwind of motion flashes of steel, cries of alarm, thugs scrambling.

The Horse-Faced Gang, despite outnumbering their foes, was no match for Electrosaber's precision and power. Within moments, the entire gang was lying unconscious across the courtyard.

"Did I… do this?" Musashi whispered, trembling as he looked at the fallen enemies. He slowly raised his right hand, still gripping the hilt.

"Of course you did. Who else could've done it?" Hiro gave him a pat on the shoulder and nodded toward the gang's boss. "Now go finish the last one."

Musashi looked down at the sword, and for the first time, his eyes burned with conviction. A smile crept across his face calm, proud.

"I did it. I really did it."

Sword in hand, he strode confidently forward.

From his place behind the action, Hiro let out a quiet breath. Unnoticed by Musashi, the glow on Electrosaber's blade had vanished. He had finished the battle on his own.

After felling the gang boss, Musashi returned the sword with both hands.

"Master, I owe you a great debt. Today I've found my courage. I will never forget your guidance. From this day on, I will train even harder."

With a deep bow, he stood tall.

"I will take a new name, one that marks a new chapter in my life."

"From today on, I'll be called… Musashi."

"Farewell, Master. Until we meet again."

With that, he turned and walked away with long, steady strides. His figure faded down the winding road.

"Wait… that was Miyamoto Musashi?!" someone exclaimed.

Suneo turned to Gian and poked him in the ribs. "Gian, now that you've found Miyamoto Musashi, are you still going to beg for a master?"

Doraemon and Noby burst into laughter. The image of Gian kneeling before Hiro and calling him "Grandmaster" was too ridiculous not to laugh at.

"Ahem! I don't think that'll be necessary," Gian said, clearing his throat. "I've decided to train on my own. Just like Musashi did. After all, he started off pretty weak too, right?"

He forced out a laugh, trying to save face.

"Weak, huh…" Hiro chuckled, gently gripping the now powerless Electrosaber.

He gazed into the distance where Musashi had vanished, a little regret in his heart.

What a shame I forgot to even tell him my name. If I had, I could've bragged about it when he shows up in the history books. Not that anyone would believe me.

They all climbed into the time machine and returned to their own time.

As evening fell, Gian and Suneo ran off in a hurry, eager to get home.

"Noby, Hiro, Doraemon, come down for dinner!" Tamako's voice called from downstairs. The table was already set.

The three quickly changed out of their period costumes and headed down.

Tamako mentioned that Daisuke had called. He was working late and would sleep at the office tonight. So dinner was kept simple: pickled vegetables, bean sprouts, grilled fish, and miso soup.

After dinner, the family took turns washing up. Noby went back to his room to rest, while Hiro lingered a moment longer before quietly approaching Tamako's room.

He knocked and opened the sliding door.

"Tamako-auntie, I brought the back massager again. Just in case your shoulders are sore from work."

Tamako, in her usual nightwear, gave a gentle laugh.

"Hiro, you're too thoughtful. But I'm fine tonight, really. You go rest too."

"It's no trouble at all," Hiro replied. "Consistency matters with back therapy. Skipping a night reduces its effect."

Tamako shook her head fondly as Hiro sat beside her and began gently massaging her shoulders with the handheld gadget Doraemon had lent him.

They talked about the trip, the people they met, and Musashi.

In the quiet of the room, Tamako smiled, listening to Hiro's stories his warmth and presence filling a bit of the space that Daisuke's absence left behind.

Outside, the cicadas sang faintly under the night sky.