iii.
Yuzu wakes her with a smile as bright as daybreak.
"Tired," Karin mumbles, swallowed whole by soft satin sheets. Her sister laughs, sweet like birdsong, murmuring something cheerful in her ear.
The sky's so blue today. Come see.
She'd rather trade the sky for sleep, and sleep a hundred years more—
Flinging the sheets into the air, Karin jolts awake, trying to make sense of dream and reality, blinking through the strands of hair over her face.
The sky is blue, so very blue. Sunlight streams through the glass.
Karin is alone.
She sits quietly on the bed, ignoring the satin sheets now crumpled on the floor, waiting for the tightness in her chest to pass. She refuses to move until it does.
She waits. Tells herself that she forgot where she was, and tries to think. Karin doesn't remember falling asleep, doesn't remember dreaming, she only knows that the bed is comfortable and the linen is soft, and that for one stupid, careless drowsy moment, she had let herself believe that she was in the past. It's not a mistake she'll be making again.
The ache lessens and Karin stands. She walks forward until she reaches the window. Knuckles clenched, she leans outside, trying to make of where she is.
The sky is blue, the air is cold, and Karin can't hear the birds anymore.
It's odd how disconnected Karin feels from this. This once would have been considered normal, waiting for people to call on her and inform her that her bath has been prepared.
She soaks in hot water, scrubbing her skin until its red and raw, then moves on to her hair, refusing to be gentle.
The maidservant stands at a distance, complying with Karin's one request, giving her the space she wants. Karin hardly listens to her chatter, catching words like dressmaker, sent, delays in between rubbing soap behind her ears. When she's finished, the maid hands a towel and Karin accepts, wrapping it around herself, before following her back to her room.
The white dress the maid finds for her is too big, the sleeves too long, the hemline falling past her knees, but it'll do for now, she tells Karin with a big smile. It'll cover the bruises, she means.
Karin stares at herself in the mirror, unsure what to make of her reflection. It feels like a stranger is staring back at her instead, utterly unbefitting of the clothes she wears.
Someone knocks at the door, and Karin doesn't turn around, even as she hears the door open.
"Princess." He says, sliding into view. His name is Hitsugaya Toushirou. Karin remembers that detail from yesterday.
She wonders, suddenly, if he's lying. He bought her, after all. He bought her with the intent to save her, but Karin doesn't know him at all. He has no proof that the memory isn't some sort of fabricated lie, some ruse meant for him to gain her trust. For all she knows, he bought her to use her.
"How are you feeling?" Hitsugaya asks, leaning on the door.
Her hands smooth out the creases of her skirt, and Karin tries to think of alternatives to I thought I heard my sister here. Her stomach rumbles, and Karin answers honestly, ignoring the heaviness in her heart. "Hungry."
The noble is quick to reply. "Breakfast is this way." She turns and faces him at last, and he gazes at her, still in that carefully guarded manner that she remembers from last night, an inspection that leaves her feeling numb, adding. "If you'll follow me."
They walk briskly into the corridor, and Karin can't remember any of this from last night, the portraits of his ancestors scrutinizing at her with haughty dispositions. Her head is too dizzy, trying to gain bearings on the situation, of what is expected of her. She doesn't notice that they walk side-by-side.
Daylight floods in through the window, a chill slipping past her shoulder and down her spine, and Karin shivers. She tries to pull the sleeve over her shoulder, to no avail.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Not really."
They reach a stairway, velvet blue carpet at their feet, a mahogany bannister descending, and Karin wonders how he can have so much wealth.
He stops.
"I'm sorry."
For what? Karin nearly asks, glancing at him. She shrugs instead, callously saying. "Bad dreams happen."
It's more a mantra than a dismissal. But the secret is to not let others know and keep moving forward.
Descending down the stairs, careful where she steps, there's still something surreal about this moment, like it's plucked out of fairy tale. There's such disconnect from yesterday to today that Karin can't quite bring herself to believe that she's awake, even now.
"Princess." He says, and Karin can hear mockery in his voice, hating him a little.
"Don't." Heat unfurls in her chest, prickly and uncomfortable, searing as her temper snaps. Princess is a thing of the past, forgotten and discarded, and she's not a princess anymore. "Don't call me that."
Nobody is going to protect her.
"My name is Karin."
Not like before.