"Father! Father!" I called, roaming the lower halls of the palace. Father was around here somewhere, probably hiding from Mother and I. As a man, he quite enjoyed his space and his peace. I could only imagine how horrible it must be to live with two women who depended on him for practically everything. "FATHER! I KNOW YOU HEAR ME!"
A hand shot out from one of the rooms I'd just passed, covering my mouth and dragging me inside. "Could you possibly be any louder?" Father hissed, letting me go to shut the door. With a smirk, I sucked in as much air as my lungs would allow, ready to belt out his name at the top of my lungs. Father covered my mouth in the nick of time. "Please, don't do that. You know your mother is angry enough as it is."
It was true. I'd accidently destroyed her Azalea bushes with a lightning technique earlier this morning. I smiled to myself, thinking back to how it happened.
I stood in the training grounds right across from Mother's garden. Honestly, I don't even know why Mother decided to plant a garden right by the training ground. I think it's so she could pretend to garden while watching the soldiers exercise and whatnot. Harlot.
I took a deep breath and extended my right arm to the sky, pointing my index and middle fingers upward. Unleashing my youki, dark clouds began to form in the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Releasing my youki from the tips of my fingers, lightning strikes and is pulled into my fingers.
"Oh, shit!" I cried out, gasping for breath. It felt like I was being burned alive. Sure, I'd tried this technique before, but I'd never released so much energy before! I knew I'd have to expel the electricity from my body some kind of way. Glancing around, my eyes narrowed on the Azalea bush.
Needless to say, I panicked and zapped Mother's bush. She wasn't too happy and told me off for a good hour. After that, I went in search of Father.
"It was an accident," I whined, pouting up at my father. While I was only about five-foot-four, Father towered over me by at least a foot. However, I knew that I'd grow some more. I was only two hundred years old and wouldn't hit my growth spurt until the three hundredth year. "You know that. Besides, who puts a garden by the training grounds?"
Father's laugh echoed around the room. "Only your mother. You know that." I smirked, going over to Father's desk located against the wall opposite the door, plopping down. "Now, what can I do for my favorite daughter?"
"I'm your only daughter!" I giggled. Father smiled warmly at me. I sighed heavily, slumping into the chair. "I just wanted to get away from Mother. She bitched at me for over an hour!"
"Now, now, Ayame. You know better than to electrocute your Mother's plants," Father chastised. Had I not have been watching my Father, I wouldn't have noticed the large grin on his face. He wasn't really serious, but we both knew Mother was standing right outside the door. Curse her and her bat ears! "Your mother worked hard to plant those Azaleas and here you are, destroying them without a second thought. For shame! You're much too old for this, Ayame." Father playfully wagged his finger at me. "Why, if you weren't in your two hundredth year, I'd lay you over my knee and give you what for!"
I snickered quietly before replying. "Yes, Father, I understand. It won't happen again."
"Good. Now…" He paused, giving me a mischievous grin. I shook my head slowly, my eyes widened in a threat. "Go apologize to your mother."
My eyes narrowed into slits, my lips pulling back into a silent snarl. Oh, Father, payback is a bitch! If this is the way he wanted to play, then play I shall. "Yes, sir," I sneered, an evil smile slowly spreading across my cheeks. Father's eyes widened slightly before narrowing into a glare. Challenge accepted. Pulling myself from Father's chair, I made my way to the door behind him. "It's on," I whispered to him, yanking open the door to face my mother.
Even as I closed the door behind me, I could hear his whispered words: "That it is."
Later that evening, Mother called for a family dinner. Apparently, some clan was coming to seek a mating between their son and myself. Needless to say, I was quite grumpy throughout dinner. The stupid fool wouldn't stop looking at me and Father's glare never left Mother. She never told him about this meeting and he was not pleased. Hell, I don't blame him. Stupid bitch went behind his back and tried to ruin my life.
To be honest, Ichiro wasn't all that bad looking. With his shoulder length dark blue hair, lavender eyes, and tall, deliciously muscled figure, he was something nice to look at. His personality, however, was something that needed to be worked on. Along with his…affectionate side.
My foot kicked out to the right, catching the bastard in the shin. He'd been trying to put his hand between my legs and I was NOT having that. He jerked in surprise and pain, surreptitiously clutching his smarting leg.
"Are you alright, Ichiro, dear?" Mother asked, a sickly sweet smile on her face. I almost gagged at the fakeness. Father's glare locked onto Ichiro. He gulped.
"Y-Yes, Lady Hitomi. Everything is fine," he replied, soothing his leg.
I grinned to myself in triumph as the conversation continues. It had been this way ever since he'd sat down next to me. He was lucky that Father was too busy glaring at my Mother or else he'd be in for a world of trouble. Father would have questioned the both of us until he figured out what really happened and everyone knew just how protective he is of me. Especially around males. And it would only get worse as my three hundredth year approaches and I go into heat. Poor little Ichiro.
Feeling his hand creeping back into my lap, I attempted to kick him again, but the idiot actually learned from his mistake. As I go to swat his hand away, his right grabbed mine as his left finally pushed its way between my legs. My eyes widened in disbelief and –completely on its own accord—my left hand curled into a fist and lashed out at poor Ichiro's face. The breaking of his nose echoed throughout the dining room as well as his cries of pain.
"What's going on here?" Ichiro's father, Masomi, cried out, rushing to his son's aide. His mother, Yukira, glared at me. Mother rushed over to help Masomi with his son. "Ichiro! Ichiro, are you okay?"
"I am so sorry!" Mother cried, false tears leaking from her eyes. "Ayame has never done anything like this before! I am so ashamed!" At the last word, mother turned her glare upon me, a silent promise for pain after the guests left. I gulped in fear. "It will never happen again!"
"See to it that it doesn't," Yukira sneered, her lips pulled back in disgust directed towards me. She stood from her chair to stand by her mate, peering down at her son.
I glanced up at Father, who sat watching me, a question in his eyes. I shrugged my answer, continuing to eat. You're very lucky, Ichiro. Very lucky indeed.
A/N: Okay, so... What do you think? Good? Bad? Should I continue or delete it?
