Only a single day had passed since the children left home, yet the ache of longing arrived with startling haste.
I tried to steady myself.
Pretending I could bear their absence with quiet strength.
In truth, it was nothing but pride.
I had been far too certain of my own resolve.
Now, I truly missed them.
On the very first night, my thoughts seemed to catch the echo of their chatter at the dining table, the sound drifting through every corner of the house as though it still lingered there.
Even beyond the walls, it was no different.
My eyes traced fleeting mirages, illusions born from yearning alone.
I missed the sight of them training.
The laughter that rang out whenever they cast their magic at one another.
The worry that once rose from the clash of their practice had become the very thing I wished to witness again.
To see them running, striking, each displaying the strength they had honed.
I was proud of my children.
They possessed the power to protect themselves.
Though I had never wished for their protection, I knew they would stand before me without hesitation, even unbidden.
As a mother, such devotion warmed my heart.
A quiet pride in the sincerity of their love.
In the open grounds where they often trained, I stood beside my husband.
Together, we watched our youngest son and daughter facing one another, sparring beneath his careful watch.
For a moment, thoughts of Charlotte and Ian were gently pushed aside by the presence before us.
"Irene."
Our eyes met. Concern lingered in his gaze.
"I am well."
He did not fully believe it.
Years of shared life had taught us to understand one another without the need for many words.
"I miss them. I keep telling myself that I am strong enough to endure this."
The words weighed heavily upon my tongue.
"But it seems I am not."
"You are their mother. It is only natural that your longing runs deep. There is no need to force yourself to appear strong, my love."
His gaze softened, carrying a warmth that soothed the unrest within me.
"As their mother, it is enough to pray for their safety and happiness."
"My husband..."
"A parent's heart is ever fragile when it comes to their children. Their departure, after so many years together, leaves behind a wound not easily mended."
"..."
"And yet, we must let them go. We must strengthen our hearts, so they may pursue their dreams without the burden of looking back."
"In the end, I have only become a burden to them."
"No."
He lifted his gaze toward the clear sky.
"You are the most precious thing in their lives. Without you, they would never have taken a single step toward the dreams they now pursue."
Then his eyes returned to me.
They were calm, filled with quiet affection.
"And without you, I would not be standing where I am today."
"..."
"You are precious to them. Just as you are to me."
His hands rose to cradle my cheeks, easing the storm within my chest.
"You are everything to us."
"..."
"I, your husband, love you dearly. You have never been a burden, for we all cherish you."
"James..."
"Happy wedding anniversary, Irene. I love you."
The most precious day of my life. How could I have forgotten it? Before I knew it, tears slipped free at the sound of those words.
"I love you as well, James."
He smiled. His fingers brushed along my cheek, wiping away the warmth that remained.
"Ryan and Karina will begin moving soon. We may fall behind."
I returned his smile.
Each of his words stirred my heart like a gentle incantation.
For a fleeting moment, the desire to press my lips to his crossed my mind, yet I held myself back.
The children were there.
I still felt a trace of shyness in showing such affection before them.
My daughter had once spoken with a teasing sharpness.
She claimed I always looked like a young maiden in love whenever I stood beside their father.
It was surely meant as praise, yet it left me wishing to hide in embarrassment.
"Very well. Watch over them. Do not allow either of them to be hurt."
"Leave it to me. So long as their father stands guard, there is nothing for their beloved mother to fear."
"You sound exceedingly confident."
"Naturally. I am their father."
"Is that all?"
He glanced toward the children, then turned back to me.
"And I am your husband. Your lover, who will always protect our children with all that I am."
The answer I had been waiting for.
The faint irritation within me melted away at once.
A soft laugh escaped my lips.
"You truly are the best. More than anything, I love you."
His handsome face drew close to my ear.
"Then prove your love tonight."
"That..."
"Why? Do you refuse?"
Heat rushed to my cheeks, spreading all the way to my ears.
"That is not it, merely..."
"Merely?"
His whisper lingered like a temptation too alluring to refuse. Words from his lips always carried the power to render me utterly defenseless.
"Do not be excessive..."
A quiet chuckle slipped from him.
"There is no cause for concern."
"..."
"Ten years ago, I still remember how bold you were."
"My husband!"
My voice rose before I could restrain it.
That memory was far too mortifying.
Embarrassment spread swiftly through me, warming my cheeks in an instant.
I longed to pinch him in retaliation, yet halted when I noticed our children watching with puzzled expressions.
They must have been wondering what had come over their parents.
"Forget it. I shall repay you tonight."
"I shall look forward to it, my wife."
"You..."
He turned away, a soft laugh escaping him.
"Truly, you are most endearing. I find myself impatient for night to fall."
"James! See to the children at once."
His steps faltered for but a moment.
"Very well. Pray, take your seat upon the wooden chair I have prepared."
So many years had passed, yet the light in his eyes remained unchanged from the moment we first met.
"Do not trouble yourself. I shall sit upon the queen's seat you have arranged."
"As you wish, my Queen. Your knight takes his leave."
"You may go."
The sight of his broad back drew me into fragments of memory, echoes of nights once filled with fervent passion.
I quickly shook my head, casting those thoughts far from my mind.
To dwell upon such things now was utterly shameful.
Behind me stood the wooden chair in all its grandeur.
Any who beheld it would surely pause in awe.
The steps leading to that throne were set high, as though meant to sever the one seated above from the world below.
One by one, I ascended until I stood before it.
To sit upon it and gaze downward brought with it an unfamiliar sense of superiority.
Perhaps this was how the nobility felt, looking upon those beneath them from such a height.
My gaze swept across the training grounds.
My children stood ready, while my husband remained not far from them.
At a single motion from him, the sparring began.
From the lofty wooden throne, I watched my two children move.
Blows were parried, strikes returned without hesitation.
Before I realized it, a faint smile had formed upon my lips.
My elbow rested against the armrest, my cheek supported as I quietly enjoyed the display below.
It was… a strangely pleasant feeling.
It seemed... I truly was a dreadful mother.
***
Thud!
I intercepted the fist of my elder brother, Ryan, as it drove toward my stomach. The sole of my shoe trembled upon meeting the force of his strike.
My body was forced back several steps. His strength was far too great to withstand with stance alone.
A low laugh left him, the sort that stirred within me the urge to answer in the most unpleasant manner.
"Karina, do you truly think so little of your elder brother?"
"Do you believe that to be the case?"
"Come now, my dear younger sister. If you persist in defending like that, Mother may grow displeased with me for harming you."
"Ryan, you have yet to land a single blow upon me."
"That is because I hold you dear. I am restraining myself."
"I am serious. Your affection matters little to me."
His lips curved in faint displeasure.
Elder Sister Charlotte often teased Ryan for how closely he resembled Mother, both in temperament and appearance.
Charlotte… Ian.
The mere thought of them tightened my chest.
It had only been a single day without their presence.
Yet, as Father had said, all would grow easier with time.
We would meet again when the proper moment came.
When that would be, I did not know.
"Karina, at the very least, show some affection toward your elder brother."
"Very well, Ryan. You wish for affection?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Then address me as Elder Brother."
I shook my head lightly.
"Why do you treat me differently? I am older than you."
He spoke the truth.
Ryan was three years my senior, yet I had no desire to call him thus.
I, too, wished to be called Elder Sister, yet I had no younger sibling to grant me that title.
Then let him feel the same.
I needed to change the flow of this moment.
"Do you truly wish to be called Elder Brother?"
"Of course!"
"Defeat me. Then your wish shall be granted."
"Are you serious?"
"Have I ever spoken falsely?"
"I believe you. My sweet younger sister has always been honest."
"Your praise is excessive."
"I speak only truth."
"Then you accept my challenge?"
Ryan seemed to ponder for a brief moment.
He glanced toward Father, then to Mother seated high upon the wooden throne like a queen.
His gaze returned to me.
"Do not blame me if you find yourself in tears from injury."
"Your confidence is quite remarkable."
"Haha! My sweet younger sister, do not come to regret your decision."
Too many words would only shatter my focus.
Elder Brother Ryan simply enjoys interaction far too much.
Father watched from the side, while Mother looked down upon us from her throne with a cold dominance.
I desired Mother's position.
To control my brothers and sister with absolute authority.
Perhaps it was excessive.
More of an obsession, born from the fact that I am the youngest among them all..
Shunshin no Jutsu!
A flash of movement. A strike born of surprise.
I moved first, arriving at his side in the span of a single breath.
Ryan's reflexes were swift, yet his reaction lagged by a heartbeat.
Thud!
A horizontal kick drove into his exposed chest.
He crossed his arms just before the impact, yet his stance had not settled.
The torque of his body was not enough to withstand the force I delivered.
He was thrown back, dragged across the ground for dozens of paces.
I held nothing back.
Defeat would lead to the one outcome I refused to accept—calling him Elder Brother.
My affection for my siblings ran deep, far beyond what they realized.
Yet I was envious.
I despised this position.
To have no younger sibling.
To always be the youngest.
I, too, wished to be an elder sister.
Forgive me, Ryan.
My hands moved swiftly, weaving seals with practiced ease.
Father once said my talent in Genjutsu stood equal to that of Elder Brother Ian, far surpassing Elder Sister Charlotte, who had chosen the path of Ninjutsu.
That truth filled me with pride.
My chest lifted slightly, my cheeks faintly puffed.
Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!
Alongside the scattering fireballs, I launched black iron projectiles.
I had never favored shuriken.
I had asked Father for a different ranged weapon—slender rods of black iron, sharpened to a lethal point.
Their penetrating force was far more terrifying, all power focused upon a single edge that split the air.
Unlike shuriken, which scattered.
To me, kunai stood only as a second choice to these black iron spikes, especially in close combat where adaptability was required.
A series of fireballs surged forward.
Ryan's pupils widened.
His stance had yet to recover from my earlier strike.
The black iron hidden within the flames hastened the advance of my assault.
Explosion after explosion tore through the air.
Violent tremors spread outward.
Ryan had already awakened the Sharingan to three tomoe, a step above my own two.
Yet that alone would not halt me.
The ground shattered.
Small craters formed beneath the relentless barrage of fire and iron.
Dust rose, swallowing the field in a hazy veil.
My crimson eyes found no sign of danger.
My foot struck the earth.
I leapt high, observing the battlefield from above.
My fingers began weaving seals once more.
Yet before they could be completed—
"Why such haste, my sweet younger sister?"
His voice sounded beside me.
In the air.
I released the forming seal, yet his fist reached me first, crashing into my stomach.
Chakra surged through me, hardening my defense, yet the force could not be denied.
My body was driven downward, slamming into the ground.
A groan slipped past my lips.
Before the impact, my eyes flickered toward the remnants of the explosion.
A wooden log. When had he made the switch?
A faint smile touched my lips.
"Kawarimi no Jutsu."
He had prepared it the moment his body was sent flying.
My elder brother was more formidable than I had thought.
Thud!
My back struck the earth.
Pain spread from my spine down to my hips.
Above me, Ryan wore a sharp grin.
Gravity pulled him downward, yet he did not waste that momentum.
He released a fire technique.
A massive sphere of flame.
He was truly serious.
How strong was his desire to hear me call him Elder Brother, that he would strike his own younger sister with such force? The affection in his earlier words now felt hollow.
The burning pain in my abdomen deepened the ache already coursing through me.
The fireball drew closer, swelling like a miniature sun before my eyes.
Explosion!
"Karina!"
Mother's panicked cry rang out from the wooden throne.
She must have believed her beloved daughter reduced to ash by her own son.
Yet that was not the case.
I had already told Father—no interference until I yielded.
No matter what occurred, he was to trust in me.
As for Ryan, he would answer to Mother's anger later.
Was it not the duty of an elder brother to yield? That title alone should not demand such a fierce battle.
Father's judgment was far sharper.
He knew precisely when to step in.
A great crater formed at the point of impact.
My body lay at its center.
My garments were torn.
The ground around me had hardened and cracked, forming patterns like a web beneath the extreme heat.
The dust slowly cleared, carried away by the wind.
Ryan was already at my side.
His face had gone pale.
Regret was plain upon it.
He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands trembling.