Hanako's salve always helped with the burns. They'd all healed over and barely hurt anymore, but the lingering scars remained pink and ugly. So many of the beautiful irezumi Osamu had once inked across his body were distorted and forever ruined. He could feel his long, snow-white hair flop all the way down to his hips. It probably brushed against him below even that, but everything below his waist had stayed numb since his mid-thirties.

He never would regain feeling. Every five years or so, he asked the medics in Konoha General if any new breakthroughs or experimental procedures were available to get his mobility back. Instead, all he could do was watch as his legs withered away from lack of use and his arms became that much stronger as he wheeled himself about. His arms were now thicker in some places than his thighs, all from the sheer volume of toned muscle.

The wintergreen oil left his skin tingling in a pleasant way. In the steam of the shower, he could lose himself in old memories.

Most of his precious people were long gone. Hashirama died in battle. Tobirama ended their friendship shortly after becoming Nidaime, but he met his end only a few years later. Neither Tobirama nor Mito ever forgave Osamu for what he'd done to his sister. And his sister…god, his sister…

He had a sneaking suspicion one of Yanagi's former students torched their house after revisiting a slew of old, ugly memories. Some curious kid recently dug up parts of the Yamanaka Clan's past nobody had any business repeating. And within a day or two of hearing Yanagi's damned name on the lips of the village for the first time in decades, Osamu saw blue flames lick his house for the second time in his life.

He remained the head of Torture & Interrogation for another fifteen years after Tobirama's death in the First Great War. Although Osamu had long since retired, the Sandaime still needed him for his unsurpassed skills in postmortem memory retrieval. Still, if that was the extent that the village needed him these days, Osamu could count himself as fortunate.

War waged all around, but he still found a quiet, uninterrupted, half-dead peace at home. Hashirama never should have promised him more.

For all the burns and injuries he sustained in his thirties, the Yamanaka head still had his most impressive tattoo untarnished across his broad, broken back: a pair of beautiful koi eating each other in a yin-yang formation. The colors had yet to fade, nor had the artwork been badly damaged. It merely appeared awkward and out of place on a tired old man rather than the strong, young, beautiful thing he'd been in his prime.

Turning off the water, Osamu put the shower hose back in place and positioned his body to the side of the bathtub. Hanako and her son Nori—both of whom were downstairs cooking a ginger pork and eggplant dish for dinner—offered to let Yanagi and Osamu stay with them until their house could be rebuilt.

At the edge of the bathroom, he caught sight of a mauve yukata and a pair of black boxers laid out for him to wear when he finished. 'Thoughtful girl,' not that Hanako was a girl anymore. Hanako was forty-eight with an adult son in his twenties, but sometimes it was hard to accept that much time had passed. He'd raised her since birth, after all.

Osamu stretched, trying to get his hands on a towel, and felt a sharp pain shoot through his arm. It spread to his chest as a terrible tightness, making it that much harder to breathe. Gingerly, he tried again, thinking it was nothing more than the shock of cold air to his body after such a hot and steamy shower causing his blood pressure to drop, but–

Again. This time, he clutched at his chest and fell over. "Ha…" He hoarsely called out, pounding on the bathroom floor with a strong fist. "Hanako…" But he couldn't shout. If his lungs failed him, he could project.

'HANAKO! SOMETHING'S WRONG! HELP ME!'

Osamu's vision began to blur and he felt far beyond lightheaded. The heavy sound of footsteps rushing down the hall caught his attention, along with Hanako's panicked thoughts. There was so much profanity.

The door swung open and there they both were. Hanako's apron was stained with chili oil, soy sauce, and a tiny trace of blood. Nori's mask was off, but he hadn't bothered to change out of his ANBU garb. It almost felt like staring into a mirror at points. That boy looked so much like he used to before the tattoos, the fire, the years upon years of opiates…

"Don't worry, Osamu-sama. I've got you," Nori insisted. "Okaa-san?" Hanako lifted her head in worry, biting a cinnabar-colored lip. "Can you go ahead and tell Konoha General we're coming?" Hanako wasted no time in running out of the house to do exactly that. "What happened, great-uncle? Did you fall?" Already, Nori's eyes wanted to glance at the old man's bare hip. He touched it, wondering if it was broken.

Osamu slapped Nori's hand away, grabbed it, and moved it to his chest. "No, Nori. Here. I think it's…" But he couldn't finish, all because he blacked out.

…

Osamu felt a protective squeeze come from his sister's hand. "We have to watch," Yanagi reminded him. "Looking away only makes it worse."

That didn't make witnessing their mother's inquisition any easier.

After losing her husband in combat during a battle against the Aburame Clan, Yamanaka Ajisai took over as the next clan head. The clan recognized her talents in mediumship, believing with their full hearts that all commands Ajisai gave them were actually the demands and wishes of her dead husband's spirit who loved them too much to cross over.

But the twins knew the truth: mediumship wasn't real. The Yamanaka Clan could read memories, jump into other people's bodies, and project their thoughts into others; but the dead could not be channeled after the brain was destroyed.

So why? They knew. By claiming to be a vessel for her late husband's spirit, Ajisai secured a brighter future for her children. It meant one of them would succeed her someday rather than her brother-in-law. She sacrificed her entire identity for them, but now the sham was revealed.

Now all eyes were on Tezuka-oji. Even as he stood, his pale gold ponytail trailed down to the floor, sweeping the dust at the tip with his every motion. Kohl accentuated what the clan already considered to be a madman's eyes, but his crazy eyes were nothing compared to his smile.

Ajisai remained bowed, not that she had much choice in the matter. The manacles bolting her to the ground were so low that kneeling was her only option. "I stand by what I've always claimed," Ajisai growled. "I am a medium. My husband speaks through me to continue guiding our clan from beyond the grave. And if you dare to challenge your brother's word, you–"

"Does he really?" Tezuka glanced at the sword in his hand. He let the blade touch the hard wood floor as he spun the hilt. With every spin, the sword reflected the bright and awful flickering light of the bonfire in the background. "What proof do any of us have that you have been blessed by the divine, Ajisai? I think you're a charlatan."

"I'm not! I speak the truth, Tezuka! I am Kuroishi's mouthpiece! Through me, he shall continue to lead until–"

A high-pitched, shrill laugh left Tezuka's throat as he swung the sword dangerously close to the top of his sister-in-law's head. She ducked to avoid. "Nobody belieeeeeeeves you, sister."

Osamu let loose a small squeak of terror as big fat tears built in his eyes. 'She'll die,' he realized, trying to hide his frightened face behind a purple sleeve. 'He doesn't plan to let her go! He's–'

Yanagi squeezed his hand until it hurt. He felt her trembling beside him. "Keep watching," she whispered again. "And don't cry, Osamu. You're the boy. You're supposed to be the strong one."

But he wasn't. He needed his sister's support for everything. If he could impersonate his father, if he could project himself into his mother and convincingly talk like Kuroishi, then maybe–

"You still have a chance to spare yourself, Ajisai," Tezuka insisted. The sword tip poked just underneath the back collar of her plum and silver-colored robe. Once severed, silk cut so easily. The blade slid like butter down the woman's back as the fabric fell to reveal her fair, untarnished body.

Her skin was like moonlight itself, paired with hair the color of sunlight. Then came the commotion the twins heard so many times before from the den. The clan saw this more as entertainment than interrogation. Men demanded the rest of the robe be removed: that Ajisai be stripped bare for all to see. What was once the clan head's, they argued, should now belong to everyone.

"We're all here, dear." There was no love in Tezuka's eyes for his sister-in-law. As she reached and struggled to cover herself, he placed the tip of the blade at the junction between her back and neck. "Say you only did this for personal reasons, that you wanted your children to bypass me in the line of succession."

There was humiliation in Ajisai's eyes, but no confession. "Kill me, if you must," she growled, trying to hold her head high. "Just know that when you do, you'll be killing your brother a second time. How dare–"

The blow came quick, but it wasn't enough. As much as Yanagi warned him not to scream, Osamu did. He shrieked at the top of his lungs as he watched blood erupt from his mother as her body twitched and jerked around. There was no surviving a blow like that…or the next three or four clumsy, blunt strokes it took before Tezuka succeeded in fully decapitating the woman.

The tears welled up even more as the shrieks turned into heartbroken wails. All he could think about was white-hot grief as Yanagi tried with all her might to hold her twin back. Again and again, he screamed for his mother. "OKAA-SAN! OKAA-SAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Tezuka squatted down, twisting his hand tightly into the dead woman's hair, and lifted her severed head from the ground. He tied her ponytail around the sash of his robe and stood before the rest of the clan with his own head held high.

And, just because he could, he moved the head's mouth a few inches away from the bulge in his trousers and made a crude gesture with it before letting it bounce back into place. The men in particular were roaring with irreverent, unholy laughter.

"You all witnessed justice today! I killed the witch who usurped me, but…" Smiling in a falsely innocent way, Tezuka made a gesture. "I suppose there's no harm in naming one of my brother's children as my successor. It's…heh…it's what the real Kuroishi would have wanted. Osamu? Yanagi? My dears…" His arms were outstretched. "Come to oji-san."

Although Yanagi quietly obeyed with resignation on her face, Osamu refused to comply. He ran to his mother's headless body instead, wanting to cover her shame. Nobody deserved to look at her like that. Even as her hot and sticky blood soaked into his yukata, he didn't care. He couldn't save her or protect her, but he could at least defend her dignity.

'Osamu…' To his horror, he glanced toward Ajisai's head. Heads could carry memories until the brain decayed. His mother was dead, but still fresh. Her gray eyes were already starting to glaze over, but he could swear they looked at him. 'Osamu…'

They'd both hear those memories until she rotted away.

…

"It's a miracle you and Nori managed to get him to Konoha General in time. It's not like Osamu-sama's a small man…"

Indeed. People tended to forget how tall he was, considering how long he'd been confined to the wheelchair. He'd once stood a whole head above Hashirama! Enemies saw him as a flaxen-haired war god because ordinary men weren't mind-breaking giants. He'd been a legend.

"We're also fortunate he only had a heart attack. Can you imagine what sort of state the clan would be in if he'd had a stroke?"

"Carrying on like this is too dangerous. I can't believe we didn't push Osamu-sama to name and train an heir sooner. I know why he held off, but–"

"You want to be the one to propose that to Osamu-sama, Rika? Be my guest! I'm not gonna be the one to–"

Osamu's gray eyes fluttered as he stirred, taking in the sight of several old colleagues and associates within the clan. Cousin Rika and her husband Inoru, Hanako and Nori, Kaori and her daughter Chikako…

It was so crowded. He hated crowds. They reminded him of the old Yamanaka den where his uncle once held their meetings and negotiations with other clans, long before the village existed. Tezuka-oji had made sport of many negotiators and trespassers in the past: stripping their psyches apart before he moved on to their body, all for the entertainment of the clan.

Being in a hospital bed, feeling the IVs pumping fluid and drugs into his inked-over arms, hearing all those voices both physically and mentally…it was too much. He felt vulnerable and he hated that.

Worst of all, he saw Yanagi among them quietly sitting in a chair. Kaori's other child, Hideaki, sat beside the old woman and rubbed her tired shoulders. Yanagi behaved herself by simply doing nothing at all. She locked eyes with her twin brother for a brief moment and gave him a blank, vapid smile in response. Osamu shuddered.

"Hey, he's awake!" Hanako squeezed her clan head's hand tightly and gave it a kiss. "Welcome back to the world of the wakeful, uncle! We were all worried about you!"

'Bullshit,' Osamu thought. 'I've been listening to the whole lot of you for the past ten minutes. You're nothing but a bunch of buzzards.'

"Go away," he rasped. "All of you. You're crowding me."

Hanako squeezed his hand the same way Yanagi used to do when they were young. "Everyone's here because they're worried," she reminded him. That squeeze felt a bit too tight. "I know you don't want to accept this, but–"

"I heard you, Hanako," the old man growled. "And I know what I have to do. But none of you will make that call for me, you understand? Not even you." Even though her veins did carry the blood of the main line…

…

Tezuka-oji loved them both. At least, that's what he loved to remind his niece and nephew before and after he found a new depraved way to hurt them. And he always found a way.

Osamu earned bruises for crying or calling out his mother's name in his sleep. For a while, Yanagi used to crawl in the bed with him and do what she could to calm him down, but they were too old for that to feel appropriate anymore. The future would be his, if Tezuka-oji chose to listen to the clan. Even then, there was a 50/50 chance he wouldn't.

Despite being identical twins who allegedly carried an equal chance of being Tezuka's heir; Yanagi knew who their mother favored more. It was plain as day to her, considering the only thing her mother's brain kept repeating until it dried up and withered away was Osamu's name. Her name never came up.

Yanagi ventured off that afternoon to train with some of the sharper mind-readers within the clan, all with their uncle's permission. While she did that, Osamu sat on Tezuka's lap and felt his dirty fingers try to twist curls into his ponytail.

Tezuka-oji liked to dress them the same: wanting to revel in the twins' near-identical appearance for as long as he could. It made it that much more amusing for him to watch as their clansmen, their allies, and their hostages tried to guess if he had his niece or his nephew on his lap. Either way, they were in for a terrible surprise, considering each child had a different (but equally horrible) aptitude within the clan's arts.

"You aren't going to cry today; are you, Osamu?" Tezuka asked, carrying a faint hitch of annoyance to his voice. When Osamu quietly shook his head, the man kissed his cheek. "Good boy. I want you to help me with something." He lifted his head and gestured for the silhouettes outside to enter the den.

A group of older clansmen dragged a terrified teenage boy into the central hall. He stared at the Yamanaka head and the ten-year-old sitting on his lap with dark, bewildered eyes. Considering the boy's fluffy dark hair and slightly tanned complexion, Osamu could guess almost immediately which clan their prisoner hailed from.

'He's an Uchiha…' Curiously, he glanced at his uncle, wondering what this was about. He loved to pick apart trespassers and humiliate them for the clan's public amusement. So many other women (including Tezuka's first, second, and third ex-wives) met the same fate Ajisai had…all because they got pregnant.

Tezuka-oji didn't want a direct descendant to succeed. He was convinced a son or daughter would murder him someday. He was also convinced his niece and nephew were too scared of him to try anything. "Do you know why you're here?" Tezuka asked the young man. "You're the boy who raided and destroyed my sister's gambling den. You beat her so badly that she lost a couple of teeth. And then you torched the place."

Osamu wanted to move because he could feel his uncle's excitement against his back. Tezuka-oji was fully clothed and so was he, but the boy felt ill every time he leaned back and knew precisely how much enjoyment the older man got out of destroying others. And if he completely sat down, he'd feel it even more.

It wasn't lost on him that the Uchiha was confused on how he even ended up in the den. "I sent my niece to stalk you for the past week," Tezuka jeered. "Yanagi found out where your camp is and lured you out right before you fell asleep. I wanted you awake for this part, though. Osamu?"

Tezuka's nails dug into his arm, daring him to make a noise. He didn't. He behaved himself. "You're a gifted projector. Humor your oji-san and make our guest dance for me."

This boy was older than him. Stronger, too. He'd probably killed dozens upon dozens of men in the battlefield, but both knew full well the Uchiha wouldn't leave that den alive. "You're making a mistake," the boy warned. "I'm the son of Uchiha Tajima: our clan head! When he finds out what you did to me, he'll–"

"Get over it because he has two or three more, doesn't he?" Tezuka jeered. "Don't worry. As Osamu takes over, you'll still feel everything. I want you awake for every last thing he does…"

…

His clansmen left him alone eventually. As Osamu attempted to sleep, it dawned on him that he'd taken in some of Tezuka's paranoia by example.

Like his uncle, Osamu never married. He never so much as showed an interest in any woman other than his sister, but that was purely platonic. The village may have gossiped about them in the past, but he knew the truth. He'd never been lewd with Yanagi. Women didn't interest him at all.

And the world simply wasn't an accepting place for men like Osamu back in his day, especially as a clan head. Had he stepped forward and poured his heart out to the person he had loved, nothing would have come of it. To fancy another leader, to long for that kind of connection in somebody married with a family…and when the wife was so close to his sister…

Hanako was as close to a daughter as he'd ever have, seeing as she was Yanagi's–not that he or his sister ever told Hanako that. It was bad enough their "little cousin" was Tezuka's bastard, too.

Her son resembled the old Osamu in appearance: tall, handsome, strong, and formidable with eyes as cold and sharp as frost-covered iron. Nori carried only one tattoo, though: the mark of the ANBU. The Bingo Books referred to him as Soul Magnet Nori because of his aptitude for (just like his predecessors) retrieving memories from the freshly deceased with frightening accuracy.

Osamu's old student thought highly enough of Nori to promote him to a captain's rank. Nori followed Danzō's orders without hesitation, presently carried a kill count of 102, and had a bright future ahead of him. Everyone, including Hanako, expected Osamu to name Nori as his heir and begin training him to lead once his hospital stay ended.

'But I can't pick from the direct line. Not with everything we're predisposed to.' Tezuka was insane. Anyone who survived even ten seconds with him could attest to that. In later years, Osamu began to realize his own mother may have genuinely believed she heard his father's voice in her head. It may not have been a complete act on Ajisai's part.

There were too many lunatics in the family tree; and he wasn't exactly a shining example of mental health, either. Sure, he'd sobered up around the time Tobirama became Hokage. At that time, he swore off opium once and for all, but Osamu had entire years in his twenties and thirties he couldn't remember. That did not bode well.

Even without Osamu's blessing, Nori believed he'd be chosen. Osamu heard it in the thoughts of all those who sat around his hospital bed and talked about this shaky, uncertain future he saddled them with by being so paranoid.

'What if I did name him? What incentive would Hanako have to help me after that? No…the clan needs new blood. Fresher blood. Safer blood.'

He rolled over, noting to his disapproval that the sun was rising. 'I truly am what the Bingo Books call me. I am the Man Who Never Sleeps,' he thought drearily. The door opened slowly and he sensed a presence. The old man lifted his head, wincing when he felt the pain in his chest again. "Visiting hours aren't until–"

"I'm sorry, Osamu-sama. Can I come in anyway?"

Osamu's face softened when he realized he couldn't sense anyone else with the child. "You're Inoru and Rika's little boy, aren't you? Inoshishi?"

The nine-year-old laughed. "No, Osamu-sama. I'm Inoichi. If I'm bothering you, I can always–"

"No, no. You're alright." The old man patted the side of his bed and watched as the boy pulled a chair closer. Up close, he really could see both the child's parents in his features. He had Inoru's clever blue eyes and Rika's impish smile. He didn't pick up on any ill will from the kid, either, which was a much welcome change of pace from the other visitors. "Did your parents ask you to check on me?"

The boy shook his head. "No, it's…heh…" He looked slightly embarrassed. "I saw a lot of people brought you flowers. I wanted to make sure they stayed fresh, just in case you're stuck in here for a while." His parents opened a flower shop together around the time they got married. It was always Rika's dream to own one. "My mom told me what each flower means. Do you know the language of flowers, Osamu-sama?"

"No." That was a useless, girly thing for a boy to know, but he could hear the pride in the kid's voice. "But I've got nothing better to do. If you want to tell a tired old geezer what everyone's saying about him with their floral arrangements, Inoichi, then I'm listening."

The little blonde's entire face lit up because he had Osamu's undivided attention. His best friends weren't interested in this, not in the slightest. "These fuzzy looking pink things are amaranthus." Okay. So what? "They're telling you that you're heartless…or hopeless. I dunno. It can mean either thing."

"Oooooh. Somebody doesn't like me." Osamu rolled his eyes. "Whatever will I do?" That came as no goddamn surprise to him, but now he had to know. "Who else sent me bad flowers?" He'd keep a mental tally and call these fuckers on their shit later.

Inoichi held up another flower and smirked. "Whoever gave you the belvedere is declaring war against you." Wow. Who knew there were so many melodramatic passive-aggressives in their clan? "And the person who gave you the crowfoot is saying you're ungrateful."

'Hi, Hanako.'

"I can really feel the love in this room." But he couldn't help but laugh. That child was so excited to show off his knowledge and apparently believed his mother when Rika told him flowers were important. If he carried that zeal with other things, he'd go far in life.

"Don't worry, Osamu-sama! I got you one, too!" It wasn't the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, but he was sure the child would explain its meaning. He was right. "I figured you could use a little hope in here, so I brought a hawthorn!"

Osamu winced as he moved to sit upright. Inoichi tried to get him to lie back down, but it was too late. The old man already made up his mind to no longer remain horizontal. "That's very, very thoughtful of you. Want to do me a favor?"

"Hm?"

"Find out what they're fixing in the cafeteria and get something for us to eat. I'm hungry." He wanted the saltiest, driest, toughest thing his mouth could handle. "A little thirsty, too."

The boy got up, promised he'd be right back, and paused once he caught sight of something on the ledge. "Uh…Osamu-sama? One last thing…" He pointed to a potted plant: a sweet, innocent-looking miniature violet. "Keep whoever went you that plant far away from you. They're expecting you to be here for a long, long time."

"Thanks for the warning, kid. I'll keep that in mind. And listen. There's no need for this Osamu-sama business anymore. You can call be Osamu-oji."

It was high time oji stopped being a bad word. He'd break the news to Hanako a little later.

…

Hanako placed a spoonful of hot hōtōnabe to Osamu's lips, giving him a firm frown when he didn't open his mouth to swallow. "This is one of your favorites. What's wrong? You suddenly don't like my cooking?"

It was tempting, but he didn't trust it. With the pumpkin, carrot, and sweet potato mixed in with the pork and miso; he was practically salivating. Hanako was a great cook; perhaps even one of the best in the village. She'd taught at the kunoichi preschool since her mid-twenties and perfected arts that many a housewife could only dream of.

In the past, Osamu seldom visited any of the village restaurants because Hanako's cooking was superior. Today, though, he couldn't shake a nagging thought in the back of his head that maybe it was poisoned.

She sent the potted plant, he found out. He knew because he'd seen her water and check on it every time she came in. While he didn't think she had it in her to kill him, he knew her well enough to not eat what she fed him.

"If you'd rather eat that garbage in the cafeteria, I can always ask Nori to–"

"I've decided who will succeed me, Hanako," Osamu interjected. "I'm not choosing Nori."

That's all it took to make his great-nephew leave. He made direct eye contact with the clan head as he slowly moved to stand. All the way to the door, Nori refused to break the gaze. Once out of the room, he slammed the door behind him. The hospital's framed copy of the evacuation plan fell from the wall and hit the ground. The glass shattered on impact.

"Why not?" Hanako asked in a low, threatening tone Yanagi used to use. Unlike Nori, she couldn't bring herself to look her cousin in the eye. "Is it because he's mine? Is it because I bear Tezuka's blood and therefore Nori does, too?"

"I don't owe you any explanations, Hanako. I'm your clan head and I stand by my choice. That should be enough for you." But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. And already, he could see her gray eyes turning wet. "Please don't do that. Nori's a fine young man–"

"Then why can't you name him?!" That wasn't a question anymore. It was an almost goose-like hiss. "After everything I've done for you! Over all these years…" Her candy apple red nails dug into her thick, plump thigh.

She'd been a beautiful girl in her youth with the same slender physique as her mother. Motherhood turned her figure into a dangerous hourglass with killer curves ahead. Then menopause kicked in. With it came additional weight that would be near impossible to burn off. It was the yellow, tough, stubborn fat of late middle age and it would follow pretty Hanako all the way to the grave.

"Who gave you and Yanagi-sama a place to stay after the Uchiha Clan burned down your first house? Hm? Who looked out for you while you recovered from your burns? Who cleaned your bandages, bathed you, helped you detox all that disgusting garbage out of your ungrateful veins, and took you to every single appointment for the past twenty-some-odd years?!"

She had. He thought she'd done that out of love.

Osamu wanted Hanako to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to actually say it. In that moment, he felt as though he were back in the den…right in the center…with the whole of the clan watching as Tezuka tore him apart inside and out.

"I chose Inoichi," Osamu barked back, feeling some of his strength return. "He was the only out one of the whole lot of you who came here without some sort of ulterior motive." He'd come in more than once, too. Every day Osamu spent in the hospital, Inoichi wanted to stop by after Academy to visit and tell him all the boring details of his day. The kid rambled, but he was so damn likable.

"But Nori and I are your immediate family! That boy's a–"

"I've already made up my mind. He's the same age as the Akimichi and Nara heirs. Sarutobi Biwako's already announced she plans to take those three as her students as soon as they graduate. Having Inoichi as my successor means this will be the first time in the village's history that the Ino–Shika–Chō formation will be held by three clan heads. This means my heir will study under not only me, but the Third Hokage's wife. Do you understand how significant that is for the Yamanaka Clan?"

Hanako's face turned the color of spoiled milk when she heard that. "I can't believe you. You barely know him!" She got up, leaving the bowl of soup for Osamu to eat on his own. "But if that's your decision, then so be it. I know you well enough to know you never change your mind on anything; even when I wish you would. Just let me remind you of something before I go."

And in that moment, he saw all of Yanagi's worst traits in her daughter. Those eyes were cold steel, threatening to pierce him. "I chose to let you stay with Nori and me because I thought we could be one big, happy family. We'll continue to take care of Yanagi-sama, but you? No. Not anymore. Not after you decided to spit in our faces and make light of our hospitality."

She brushed herself off and went to the door. "Inoichi-chan is your heir now, so you can be his family's responsibility. I'm done." He wanted to say something else, but it was too late. He could already hear her down the hall, calling for Nori.