The Zen'in compound buzzed with activity long into the night, its great halls lit with lanterns that glowed like watchful eyes against the dark.
For centuries, the clan had moved with the weight of tradition, its every action carried by the same rhythm of rigid control and ruthless hierarchy. Tonight, however, the rhythm had changed.
Naoya Zen'in sat cross-legged in the main chamber, robes freshly embroidered, his smug face twisted into what he no doubt thought was the smile of a leader.
To him, the matter was already settled. He had taken the mantle of Clan Head, regardless of what tradition dictated. Megumi Fushiguro, the rightful heir in title and blood, lay comatose, useless, incapable of asserting authority.
Naoya's eyes, weakness had no place in the Zen'in family.
His voice carried through the chamber, smug and venom-laced.
'I don't care what the papers say. I don't care about some brat who can't even open his eyes. I am the head of the Zen'in Clan. And anyone who disagrees can rot alongside the rest of the worms who've forgotten what power means.'
The cadres surrounding him nodded, some with relief, others with greed burning in their eyes. They wanted stability, and Naoya's cruelty promised the kind of order they could live with.
The decision was unanimous. They would not bow to the newly forming council of sorcerers. They would not accept outsiders forcing their hand. Instead, the Zen'in would ally with what remained of the Kamo Clan, uniting two fractured pillars into a single, sharpened weapon.
And to bind the alliance, Mai Zen'in had been chosen.
Her coma mattered little to the men who weighed her value only in lineage and the currency of flesh. A marriage had been arranged to one of the Kamo cadres, a man old enough to be her father, and already it was declared official.
To them, she was nothing more than a bargaining chip, a vessel for more heirs.
No one cared if she was awake to witness it.
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The gates of the Zen'in compound groaned as they opened. The guards stiffened at the sight of her, but parted without a word.
Maki stepped inside, her face shadowed, her hands empty. She had come unarmed, yet no one dared to stop her. Not when she spoke the name of the one who had sent her.
Mahito.
The air inside the compound thickened with tension at his mention. Even in victory, even in arrogance, the Zen'in knew better than to test the will of the strongest. Curse, criminal or not, Mahito's presence hung over them like a storm cloud. Naoya himself had given the order.
"Let her through. If Mahito sent her, then she walks where she pleases."
Maki's footsteps carried her unerringly toward one room in particular. Her mother sat outside of it, knees folded, face blank as if carved from stone. Yet when her eyes lifted to her daughter's, something in them faltered.
Maki's voice came low, sharp. "Where is she?"
Her mother gestured faintly to the chamber beyond. No tears. No hesitation. Just resignation.
"She's inside. She hasn't woken… and they've already given her away."
The words struck Maki harder than any blade. Her fists curled until her knuckles blanched, breath catching in her chest.
"Given… away?" Her voice trembled, though not from weakness. From rage.
Her mother looked away. "To the Kamo. She was married off last night... It was the only way to secure the alliance."
Something inside Maki snapped.
The door slammed open, and she stepped into the room where her twin lay pale and unmoving, the faintest rise and fall of her chest proof that life still lingered. Her fingers twitched against the sheets, but her eyes remained closed, her spirit still trapped in silence.
Maki's eyes lingered on that faint twitch, a fragile movement that spoke of a battle being fought somewhere deep within. For a heartbeat, she thought she heard her sister whisper, a sound too soft to be real, like the murmur of a dream.
"…don't… leave me…"
The words were broken, barely formed, but they sank into Maki's chest like a blade. Her hand hovered just above her sister's, trembling, before she pulled it back as if her own guilt burned too hot to allow her comfort.
Her cursed energy expanding had affected Mai to a deeper level, preventing her from waking up for now. But the bruises on her body told a story that Maki would have rather never heard.
Maki's heart twisted, guilt sinking deep into her gut. She had promised herself that once she grew strong enough, she would never let Mai suffer again.
That she would stand between her sister and the cruelty of the clan, yet here Mai was, sold like livestock while Maki had been too slow, too blind to prevent it.
'I failed her... I wasn't here. I wasn't strong enough. Damn it… damn it all.'
They hadn't ever had the best relationship, but ironically enough, the decision to sever the connection between their souls, the shared willingness to face that risk, had actually brought them closer than they had ever been.
The guilt boiled into fury. Her head turned sharply as another figure entered the chamber, drawn by the noise.
Ogi Zen'in. Her father.
His eyes narrowed at the sight of her, as if her presence was an inconvenience.
"So you finally returned. You should be grateful you still walk these halls. Do you even understand the honor your sister was given? She's tied to the future of two great clans now. That's more than she could have ever hoped for."
Maki's body trembled, her fists tightening at her sides. The words barely reached her ears through the roar of blood pounding in her skull.
'Honor.'
That was what he called it.
Without warning, she moved. Faster than the human eye could track, her fist collided with his face.
Bone shattered like porcelain under the blow, skull collapsing inward with a sickening crunch. His body crumpled to the ground before he could even comprehend what had happened.
Her father. The man who had mocked her, beaten her, and cast her aside as worthless. Reduced to nothing with a single strike.
Maki didn't flinch, grabbing her father's katana as the first shouts of alarm rang out across the halls.
A storm was about to wash over the Zen'in Clan...