Chapter 1- Sword

Chapter 1-

At the centre of the room sat my mother, radiating an aura of wisdom and authority. Her presence commanded attention, her posture displaying a sense of dignity and grace that only a true matriarch could possess. The room itself seemed to acknowledge her presence, the air filled with an atmosphere of reverence and importance.

As I entered the meeting room, I found my mother waiting for me, her presence commanding and dignified. Her long wavy brown hair cascaded gracefully down her back, adding a touch of elegance to her appearance. But it was her piercing black eyes that held my attention, their intensity seeming to penetrate deep into my soul. Her gaze held mine as I approached her, a silent exchange of understanding passing between us.

"Mom, you called me," I spoke in a hushed tone, The air in the room seemed to hold a palpable tension as I awaited her next words. "Yuuki, take a seat," she said, her voice steady yet carrying an undercurrent of seriousness. Her words resonated within me, and I complied without hesitation. Taking a deep breath, my mother began to speak, "I need to talk to you about a certain subject," she revealed, her tone laden with both concern and purpose. The room fell silent, the weight of her words enveloping us like a shroud. I nodded, indicating my readiness to receive whatever information or guidance she was about to provide.

"Yuuki, do you remember the first daughter of the Masuri family, Aya Masuri," she uttered, her words like a delicate thread weaving through the atmosphere. As her question reached my ears, memories began to resurface, —the name evoked a sense of familiarity, like distant memories. “Well, yes. "That one girl who fought me in the 31st Yato Modern Japanese Sword Tournament," As the words escaped my lips, a careless tone laced my voice, unaware of the weight they carried. "Did she die or what?"

As my careless words hung in the air, a heavy silence descended upon the room, casting a sombre shadow over the once-vibrant atmosphere. The weight of my mother's gaze intensified, her eyes ablaze with a fiery anger that I had rarely witnessed before. At that moment, I could feel the magnitude of my mistake, the thoughtlessness of my words causing a deep rift between us.

"No... Not," my mother's voice boomed, her tone laced with a mixture of fury and disappointment. The room seemed to tremble under the weight of her anger, my heedless question having struck a nerve that I had not intended to expose.

Immediately, remorse surged within me, filling my heart with regret. "Sorry!" I interjected, my voice sharp and tinged with urgency. The words spilt out, carrying a genuine apology borne out of a deep realization of the harm I had inflicted.

The sound of her tea glass hitting the table reverberated through the room, a physical manifestation of her suppressed frustration. "I will... un-notice this for now," my mother uttered, her voice laden with a mix of resignation and restraint. The words hung in the air, an acknowledgement that forgiveness was not immediate. Her action caught me off guard, a stark reminder of the impact my careless words had inflicted upon her. The clink of glass against wood resonated with an unspoken message—a plea for understanding, for a recognition of the pain I had unknowingly caused. My voice caught in my throat, stifled by the realization of the hurt I had wrought.

"Yuuki, you are supposed to marry Aya Masuri," my mother uttered in a loud tone, her words cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. The declaration hung heavily between us, the weight of her statement settling upon my shoulders like an unyielding burden.

Marry Aya Masuri. The words echoed in my mind, each syllable carrying a weighty significance. It was a proposition that I had not anticipated, a revelation that sent shockwaves through the very core of my being. "I barely know her!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the room, laced with frustration and disbelief. The weight of the revelation bore down upon me, threatening to shatter the delicate balance of my emotions. "It is 2023, you are not supposed to make someone marry someone!" I continued, my words tumbling out in a torrent of anger and defiance. "How can you force something like this on me?!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with a mixture of frustration and desperation. The words rushed out of me, carrying the weight of my defiance. "On your son, nonetheless! I understand that getting married at an early age is a tradition in our family, but I simply cannot do it."

The anger that had simmered within me erupted, fuelled by a sense of injustice and a desire for autonomy. I had always respected the traditions that governed our family, but this particular expectation felt suffocating,

"Listen, child," my mother sternly commanded, her voice filled with a sense of urgency and expectation. "You will listen to me, and will provide an explanation for this picture." With a swift motion, she threw a slim photograph across the room, its trajectory carrying it to the other end of the table where I sat. My eyes followed the trajectory of the picture, my heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. As it landed before me, I reached out and picked it up, turning it over to examine its contents.

As I took hold of the picture from the table, a surge of emotions coursed through me, turning my eyes black like the depths of a bottomless abyss. It felt as if my world had crumbled in an instant, leaving me suspended in a void of confusion and despair.

"How did you get it?!" I demanded, my voice filled with a mix of shock and anger. My mother's gaze softened, a flicker of remorse dancing in her eyes. She took a moment to collect herself before responding, her voice tinged with a hint of pride. "The, photo was taken by the family Butler.”