-PROLOGUE-
"I will tell her myself," He declares, lowering his gaze. "I owe her that much."
"Very well, Zen." His brother turns away from him, with a callous tone. He approaches the large overviewing windows. "But make it quick. You don't want to leave her with false hope."
Zen's fists clench at his sides. He drops his head respectfully before walking out of the room. Mitsuhide meets him in the hallway, trailing behind him with a look of concern.
"I need to blow off steam," He says coldly, the internal strain in his voice brewing beneath his words.
They reach the courtyard and Zen grabs one of the training swords from the bin. He turns toward the wooden soldier and takes in a deep breath. Exhaling, he lunges forward. He jerks his arm, striking the wooden soldier with relentless attack after attack. The wooden soldier's chest begins to crack. Sweat trickles down the side of his face with each aggressive strike chips into the wood.
"Zen..."Mitsuhide trails off, approaching him with uncertainty.
The sword snaps in half and Zen's arm pounds against the wooden chest. He clenches his teeth, his body trembling in both pain. With a shout of rage, he slams his arms against the wooden soldier, repeatedly beating his frustration into the wood.
Mitsuhide lunges forward, grabbing his shoulders in an attempt to stop him. Zen's arm draws back and his elbow hits Mitsuhide's face. Mitsuhide stumbles back in surprise, placing a hand over his nose where Zen had caught him.
Zen turns to him, fire in his tear-struck eyes, and his fists trembling at his sides. "What am I suppose to do!"
Mitsuhide frowns. "Zen..." He reaches out, placing his hand on Zen's shoulder. "She'll understand."
Zen scoffs bitterly, averting his gaze. "She'll understand too well."