I found it strange that my father wasn't at home when my mother told me to marry Tsuneo. I would have thought that such a big decision would necessitate the presence of both parents whenever possible. But then again, I never had much experience with these kinds of things. My perceptions were all shaped by the radio-shows and films that I had seen on the television.

The reason why my father wasn't there to tell me, however, was because he had no idea this was happening. My mother had purposefully chosen a day when he was out, fixing up a client's car - even though he didn't need to, he insisted on continuing to work when he could. But he found out eventually.

That night I heard my father come home, recognising the sound of his gait. I also heard my mother's footsteps, as well as her saying something to him in a low voice that I couldn't make out. My father didn't reply, and when he did it was in a soft voice - he must have known I had already been sent to bed - but undoubtedly tinged with anger. The exchange faded away as I heard my parents move away, towards the study.

Silently I crept out of my room and tiptoed after them. I was right - although the lights were off in every other room, the paper screens of the study shone with a diffused yellow glow. I dropped to all fours and began to crawl forward on my fingers and toes, making sure to avoid the one floorboard near the study door that creaked whenever you put weight on it.

When I finally got to the door of the study I flattened myself against the floor, knowing that my parents would have seen my silhouette through the washi screen. It was enough anyway - the paper wasn't thick enough to block my shadow, but nor was it able to conceal all of the scraps of conversation that drifted from the room.

I lay there and I listened.

"You can't do this to her, Hizuki," he said in a low voice. "It isn't right. She has a right - "

"A right to choose?" retorted my mother. "She's fourteen. Do you really think she could make the right choices for herself if she wanted to?"

"You have to at least try - "

"Try? Try? This isn't a game, Takeru. In these things you have one shot - she has one shot. If she misses it then God help her. Look around you," my mother said, "people getting married willy-nilly, at what age? Eighteen? Nineteen? How many of those marriages won't be burning in the gutter at the end of ten years?"

"You don't know that, Hizuki."

"Don't baby me. I know that very well. I know that Shiho will have the best possible foot forward and I know damn well that I'm going to give it to her."

"You're clipping her wings!"

"If I have to do that to stop her flying in the wrong direction then I will. Do you know how many men are out there that would absolutely love to bed a Nishizumi given the chance? Do you know how many men out there who would use her and discard her?"

"We aren't all like that." My father sounded hurt.

"You aren't," my mother agreed. "But even one out there is one too many, and I will not gamble the future of the family name on a roll of the dice, no matter how good the odds are. It is not the Nishizumi way -"

"Then what is? Control?"

"I'm not doing this for myself," my mother bit out. "I'm doing this for Shiho. Tsuneo is a good boy - "

"Oh, I don't doubt that, Hizuki," said my father. "I don't doubt that one bit. But this is an arrangement of convenience."

"It is an arrangement to protect her!"

"From what?" My father's voice was getting louder and more exasperated. "From what?"

"From the people who would exploit her for her family name - from the people who would covet her simply for her body - from - from - "

I heard my mother take a breath. "I married you when I was fifteen, Takeru. To be honest I was afraid of you first, as Shiho is no doubt afraid now. I'm not forcing her into the deep end. I've been where she's been, and I've come out breathing. You might not like it, but this is what needs to be done. I'm already making whatever concessions possible to make this easier to swallow. I'm doing this for her good - "

"You keep saying that, Hizuki. But is it really true? Think hard. Think very hard - "

"I am the head of the Nishizumi house!" My mother's voice cracked like a whip. "My decision is final!"

Even my father knew better to argue with her when she got like this. I heard him sigh and stand up, the tatami floor squeaking as he moved across it.

Wait. Oh no -

I had barely scrambled to my knees from the floor when the washi screen slid open and my father stepped out. The bright light from the study lamp stabbed into my eyes and I squinted against its glare.

"Shiho."

I shrunk back against the wall.

"How long have you been there?" my mother asked, her voice soft, but not exactly gentle either.

"I just got here," I lied through my teeth, praying that my mother wouldn't see through me. Thankfully, my story stuck.

"Why are you fighting?" I whispered, although I already knew the answer.

They're fighting over me.

Tears sprang to my eyes for the second time that day and I pressed my sleeves to my face to conceal them. Too much. Too much. All too much -

"Please stop fighting," I cried. "I'm scared. Why are you fighting?"

"Shiho, don't cry," my father said, as he pulled my arms from my face and squeezed me tightly, then pulled away and looked at me. "Mommy and Daddy just didn't agree over something, that's all. Sometimes people don't agree and they get mad, but it doesn't mean anything in the long run. It's alright."

"You shouldn't have been eavesdropping, Shiho," said my mother coldly, and the steel I had learned to fear had crept back into her words. "I've taught you many times how you should - "

"Oh, stuff it, Hizuki," snapped my father, and a tremor of shock seemed to jolt both me and my mother at the same time at his brusqueness. "Haven't you put her through enough today?"