The Weight of Her Own Mask

Hanako entered the second floor of the warehouse office, her geta echoed through the cheap metal walls and nicotine-stained laminated floor. Each step made a subtle glass‑cracking sound as a layer of frost carpeted her way and broke under her weight.

The Wanyudo-gumi instantly knew who she was: the frosted ice mask, long flowing black hair, the icy blue yukata. Yukikaze. Eight men in their rumpled suits yielded to her step towards the head office. The cigarette‑smoke‑filled office overlooked the storage lot and the river beyond. The air intensified as everyone reached for their choice of weapon, omamori, handgun or knife. The lieutenant-looking man, broad and built, placed his hand on the hilt of his katana.

This was her choice. She was here to warn them not to cross the river.

About an hour earlier, Hanako had slipped into the back seat of the parked sedan without making a sound. She had just changed from her flowery yukata into yukikaze's outfit in the park’s bathroom. Lieutenant Minami was up front, sitting straight, hands folded like always. The silence felt awkward - full of stuff Hanako didn't know how to talk about or maybe didn't want to. Before Masaki became her attendant, Minami had that role until he was promoted. He was the one she could trust. He used to take care of her way more than her parents ever did, almost like a second father. Even after she took up the mantle of the Yukikaze, Minami stayed the same. She wished she could talk to him like before, but things could not return to the simpler days and she knew it in her heart.

Hanako fiddled with the Yukikaze pin on her hair, sneaking a glance at Minami's reflection in the window - he looked serious, familiar, as always. Her voice came out softer than she intended.

"Did my father actually approve of this?"

She wanted to sound tough but her father's order to stay low bothered her. If she stayed low, more of her men would get hurt. Masaki would get hurt.

Minami didn't look back but his voice was soft, "Ojo-sama, Kumicho is still at the eight head's meeting. Senior Advisor Kuromori is operating things in his absence. He needs you to show up - let Wanyudo-gumi know Yukihana-ikka isn't backing down."

Hanako traced silly shapes on the seat, feeling weird and a little lost without her father around. Kuromori was scary - colder, way stricter. But she agreed with his showing up. Stay low and they will trample all over them.

Minami lowered his voice, and Hanako leaned in without thinking. "The borders aren't holding, Ojo-sama. Wanyudo-gumi is trying to see what we'll let slide. Kuromori-sama wants you to look strong but not start a fight just because. He trusts in your judgment."

White steam floated past the windshield while the car waited at the crossing. Hanako watched Minami tap his fingers. His calmness had weight to it, unlike Masaki's, as if years of experience had carved him into someone nothing could shake. He was there for her as long as she could remember until he was promoted and even then he showed up whenever he had the time. Sometimes she wished her dad was just as caring as he was.

Hanako’s voice edged colder than usual as she stared straight ahead, recalling the heated words from her men at the ramen shop. She heard their burning frustration and bruised pride. It seeped into her own and for a second, she felt Yukikaze resonate and frost crept out of her fingertips. She forced it back.

"They hurt our people, right on our turf. If we let this slide, they'll just keep trampling over us. We need to remind them what happens when they prance around our shima."

Her father's initial order to stay hidden faded out, replaced by her need to protect her clan. It's not Kuromori's wish or demand but her wish to keep her clan safe. That was her duty as an heir.

She's Yukikaze, a weapon to be wielded by the clan.

Her father's words echoed in her head, but Minami's presence lessened the sting.

The traffic light switched to green, and the car rolled forward. Hanako gripped the seat, feeling her heart race. Every block brought her closer to what she had to do - prove Yukihana-ikka wasn't weak, not now, not ever.

Hanako popped open her flask tucked away in her obi, the water slithered out and coiled around her face to become a frozen mask. The remaining water wrapped around her fingers, forming long dagger-like nails.

"Ready the car," She stepped out.

- - -

Wanyudo-gumi men exchanged glances at each other, readying to draw blood. She stood there unflinching. Secretly, she wanted to draw blood herself, but that's what she wanted, not what the clan needed. She steadied her breath.

"I'm not here to spill blood. The border was crossed." Her tone and posture were warning, not plea. She wasn't asking for understanding.

The lieutenant's reply was quick. "You send the ace for bruised pride? It was you who crossed first."

News to Hanako, her finger twitched and the icicles clicked together. Three more steps and she'll be within striking distance. Or she could just freeze the entire office.

Don't start what you can't finish. Minami's words echoed.

One of the men muttered, "We can take her." The room bristled.

"Hold your position," The lieutenant ordered. "She can freeze us all in a blink, if rumors are true."

Hanako and the Lieutenant locked their eyes on each other. His palm resting on the hilt, her fingers already with icicles with another flask in her sash for more water.

His palm twitched and wrapped around the hilt.

She flung all her icicles. Water from her sash snapped forward, weaving the icicles into a single spear. The ice spear pierced the metal wall near the lieutenant's left sleeve.

The lieutenant's hilt was drawn, no blade but a stream of fire scorched through the laminated floor a few centimeters beside her. His flaming blade roared, bitter stench of burnt laminate filled the office.

Both stood still, sizing up each other. The lieutenant extinguished the fire in his hilt and sheathed back after a loud click of his tongue.

She turned her back against the Wanyudo-gumi. "Do not cross the river, and neither will we."

- - -

Hanako slid into the hot bath at her home. The steamy hot water, rich with the scent of yuzu, filled the bath suite. She felt the rush of heat warming her up, melting whatever leftover frost lingering within her.

This was her little reward: a private refuge from the world's gaze and the violence. She let her head rest on the porcelain rim, eyes drifting shut. Her hair, free from Yukikaze pin, spilled and freely tangled in the water. Her hair fanned and curled around her fingers, drifting and tangling into knots. She felt around her hair, they drifted, mingled and tangled into knots. She watched the way the black locks twisted and patterns shifted - so much like how things were. Then Minato Ryuji surfaced in her mind, uncertain, tangled, and unsettling.

She shook her head to scatter her hair. She pictured Masaki's ramen shop - simple and earnest place. If she stayed she would have enjoyed the company and the warmth of ramen. If she returned there, she could slide open that door, Masaki would greet her. Sayuri and Minato would be there also. They can chat and laugh. But she was spent, all strength wrung from her by the frost. She couldn't face letting them see her like this. Masaki would understand - he never pushed - but others... their concern would fluster her, and she wanted her composure intact.

Her gaze landed on her right hand, fingers trailing through the scented water. The memory of Minato Ryuji's touch lingered still - too warm, too present. He was a potential enemy, whether he was aware or not, a risk she could no longer ignore. But the memory of his hand on hers pulled her in, mysterious as her hair drifting in the bath, knots forming and coming loose. She chased the reason for her fixation but every thread slipped between her fingers. He unsettled her. He drew her in. She didn't know if it was a danger or something else.

She let herself float, hair and heart entangled. She brought a slice of yuzu to her face, the sweet scent tickled her nose - and somewhere beneath the memory of warmth she couldn't shake.

Hanako stepped out of the bathing suite, yukata clinging to skin still flushed from the heat.

"Masaki..." She called out without thinking, typically he would be outside waiting, steady and quiet.

But the hallway was empty of such comfort. He wasn't there. Instead, Minami waited with another attendant, both silently sat on the wooden floor. The warmth faded instantly, replaced by the cold hush of the house - her mask, invisible but ever present. The familiar ache pressed into Hanako’s chest. She straightened her posture. Her hand drifted to her sternum, wanting to loosen the sarashi beneath her clothes. She felt the unsettling warmth in her hand. She steadied her breath.

Minami inclined his head respectfully. "You did well, Ojo-sama," he said, voice low but steady. "We will keep vigil on the borders. They won’t be foolish enough to encroach on our turf."

Hanako nodded, eyes fixed on the knot in the wood floor. "I'll go to school," she replied. "If they mess with us again, I'll be there."

Minami's brows drew together; a flickering concern ran across his face. "It's too risky for you to..."

Hanako's chin lifted, voice fierce, yet quiet. "I'll protect the clan on my own terms - even if father disagrees. I am not hiding. Deploy the decoys on the borders in the next few days during school hours." The words hung between them, weighty and final, and Minami only nodded, silent approval in her stance.

She walked down the long hallway to her room, attendant following steps behind her. Everything felt out of control and spiraled together - her future, her friendships and even her own powers.

She needed to regain her footing - any sense of control.

Minato.

She didn't know what she felt for him - hope, fear, something else - but she knew she wanted him to be innocent. If he was, maybe, she would finally be at ease around the group.

Until then, every word, every glance felt like walking on eggshells.

Tomorrow, she needed to confront him. She just hoped this was the right step.