You and Ijichi entered the cafe, your steps carrying quiet confidence, gracefully leading you to where Masamichi was seated. As you came into Masamichi's view, his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, a subtle betrayal of sternness. He didn't remove his sunglasses, and his eyes involuntarily widened.
Your presence and appearance stood in stark contrast to the quiet, wide-eyed teen he briefly remembered and even more so to the covered-up pre-teen introduced proudly by Zabari and Emiyo. You wore a soft, delightful smile, your eyes shining with that same affable innocence. You had matured, yet your petite stature was accentuated by your floor-length attire, subtle and elegant. However, Masamichi couldn't help but notice the expensive boots you wore and the shades resting atop your hair.
His lack of surprise was owed to your family's background. Yet, he was quietly astonished that none of Zabari and Emiyo's humble traits were visibly present in you.
"Masamichi!" you exclaimed with a small wave before smoothly sliding into the booth across from him.
Ijichi followed suit.
Your eyes noticed every detail on the table—the 3-tier dessert, specialty drinks, and your file.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you pulled your drink closer, taking a sip. Instantly, your eyes lit up, and you couldn't help but gush, "My favorite! Thank you, Masamichi. I'm glad you remembered."
Taking another sip, you reached for a tea cake from the tier. You took two and offered one to Ijichi with a smile. He smiled back, appreciative.
"Masamichi, you're rather quiet," you pointed out, dabbing the corners of your mouth with a napkin.
He smirked slightly and leaned back in his booth. "And you're as pleasant as ever."
"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, genuinely curious.
He shook his head. "No. It's good to see that some things haven't changed."
You humbly smiled at his words. "Yes, I quite agree. Thank you, Masamichi. Now," you calmly took two tea cakes, placing one on Ijichi's saucer, "shall we begin?"
As the evening approached, the sun casting hues of cool blues, you found yourself in a modest-sized dining room overlooking a lush veranda. Roselyn had just finished setting the last piece of tableware, everything clean, polished, and meticulously arranged.
She stepped back, examining the setup to ensure perfection. Despite the absence of food on the table, she knew it was only a matter of time. There was much left to prepare.
Your arrival was imminent. Roselyn swiftly moved to the next task at hand—your attire. She entered your room, her eyes scanning the garments, shoes, and accessories in the spacious closet. In less than a minute, she chose the perfect ensemble.
Time was slipping away, and your arrival drew nearer. With swift efficiency, Roselyn laid out your change of clothes and left the room.
As she moved on to the next task, her thoughts momentarily drifted to Ziad, who was currently absent but expected to return later. She hoped he hadn't been influenced. Adolescents were easily swayed.
Roselyn never comprehended why you chose to keep him. Nevertheless, she respected your decisions, recognizing your motives, especially this one. Despite the rage and disgust bubbling within her, she maintained her composure as she entered the kitchen.
A dance of tantalizing aromas filled the graciously spacious kitchen, emanating from the oven and the pots and pans on the stove. She opened a lid, and the gentle plume of herbs enveloped her. The simmering brown liquid was almost perfect, just needing a pinch of anise. With practiced ease, she added the spice, perfecting the dish.
Leaving the food to continue cooking, she moved to the other side of the kitchen, retrieving the appropriate serving dishes from the cabinets. An hour passed, and with each passing moment, her worry grew. The food was ready, and she transferred it to the serving dishes, meticulously placing them on the wide island in the center of the kitchen.
Stepping back, she scrutinized the setup, ensuring every detail was immaculate. Satisfied, she moved on to the next task, checking the room upstairs at the end of the hall. The door was closed, and out of habit, she politely knocked three times.
She almost called out the name but stopped herself, relieved momentarily that you weren't there. The thought of your grief was too overwhelming. Although not as intense, she shared your pain.
A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down before opening the door. The room was dim, illuminated only by a small nightlight plugged on the other side of the room. Its faint glow cast a short illumination on the filled bookcase and the legs of the nearby desk. Everything remained untouched, and she knew it would stay that way until you were ready.
She opened the door slightly wider, allowing the hallway light to filter in, providing more visibility. Her hazel eyes scanned the room meticulously, her hand trembling on the doorknob as she stood there. The longer she lingered, the more her eyes fixed on the framed picture of the three of you, and another one with everyone on the small desk.
Both photos captured moments of happiness.
A tender smile appeared on her face.
"Roselyn! I'm back!" your voice echoed through the halls.
Roselyn snapped back to the present, shutting the door and locking it before hurrying to your side.
"Lady Geto, welcome," she greeted, bowing her head and standing at attention. "Forgive me for not greeting you upon your arrival."
You looked at her for a moment, offering a warm smile.
"It's alright. I expected as much," you said, a brief falter in your smile as a tinge of grief resonated in your voice. "Were you looking at the room?"
A heavy silence settled between you both. Roselyn nodded slowly, acknowledging the unspoken words. Your smile, now tinged with sorrow, remained, but the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed. Just as Roselyn had feared.
Tears threatened to spill, but you clutched your locket tightly, taking a few deep breaths to regain your composure. Roselyn moved closer, offering silent comfort.
"It's alright. It's alright," you whispered, clearing your throat and regaining control.
Smile intact.
"Now," you said, wiping away any lingering tears and holding up the file from Masamichi.
Roselyn's eyes widened with surprise and eagerness.
"My lady! Was it successful?"
You nodded, still wiping away the last tear, checking the time on the hanging clock; it was almost time. Your stomach dropped.
Roselyn took the file and opened it, her eyes narrowing sharply.
"Your maiden is being used," she said with annoyance. "Bishop."
You understood her frustration. "Yes, but they don't know the full truth, and it's best they don't. If I must use my father's name for the time being, then I shall. It's only temporary until I reach Gojo."
"Gojo," Roselyn lifted her eyes from the file to you, her concern evident. You sensed it and reassured her.
"It's not that. He doesn't know, I'm sure of it. My husband wouldn't share such information."
She remained uneasy.
"That's different. He's not the man you knew," your tone turned sharp, a mixture of fury and pain.
"Yes, of course. My apologies," she bowed, following you into your room. Quickly, she redirected the conversation back to the file. "You've been moved to grade 1. That's wonderful."
Your mind had wandered, but you snapped back to the present. You forced a smile, trying to muster enthusiasm. All you saw were chains, but also, your escape and their protection.
The image of their smiling faces flashed in your mind, grounding you. You gasped for a moment, your mind returning to the room. Roselyn stood next to you, her eyes never leaving your face.
You attempted to smile at her, but it felt forced.
Nevertheless, you had to go through with it. Taking a few deep breaths, you gathered the strength you needed and picked up the clothes.
After a quick shower (another one would follow later), you changed. Roselyn assisted you, fastening the white obi around your waist, securing the decorated light blue kimono. You used to love wearing these. Your auntie Emiyo had helped you with your first one, and the memory was bittersweet. Now, you felt nothing.
You stood stiffly as Roselyn finished, helping you style your hair. She delicately combed it back into a single low ponytail tied with a white ribbon, your bangs framing your face elegantly. She applied a bit of makeup and sprayed a floral scent on you.
The final touch was slipping on your ring and securing your locket. You opened the locket, fighting against your body's resistance, and nestled inside was your wedding ring.
Your eyes stared at it, remembering the weight it carried. You used to shudder when putting it on, especially during your wedding ceremony when Geto took your hand with an odd care that made your heart skip a beat, sliding the ring onto your finger.
You didn't comprehend why he did it that way back then. Eventually, you wore it with pride, accepting his kisses on your hand along with the ring.
Now, you could still feel the ghost of his lips against your skin. As always, they were gentle and tender. You smiled softly to yourself, holding your hand close. Roselyn's eyes never left you.
You didn't want to put the ring on, every fiber of your being resisted, but you had no choice.
For them.
You slipped on the ring and, after giving your locket a quick kiss, handed it to Roselyn for safekeeping. She then gave you a small white, round pill and a glass of water. You swallowed it quickly, just in case.
You wiped away any remaining tears and pushed away the thoughts clouding your mind. Your focus needed to be in the present. Taking a few more deep breaths, with Roselyn silently walking behind you, you made your way to the dining room. You passed the table, proceeding to the double glass doors leading to the veranda. Arriving with five minutes to spare, you sighed in relief.
Time passed, and you stood patiently. As the last minute ticked away, a large shadow fell over you. Roselyn opened the door, and a large winged curse creature landed on the wooden floor outside. On its back were six figures, all familiar to you. But it was the smallest figure, held by the tallest and sturdiest of the figures, that warmed your heart and almost shattered your steely facade.
Your eyes followed every movement of the small figure as they were helped off the creature and led, holding hands with the tallest figure, toward you. Their appearance was still the same, tan complexion, their long, black hair, just like Suguru's, tied back into a flat ponytail. Your golden eyes, but rounder and mirrored Suguru's eye shape, most of their features mirrored his, but with your face.
Your first instinct was to run to them, to scoop them up in your arms. It had been so long since you had seen your son. His name was on the tip of your tongue, but you held back, remembering what you needed to do.
You turned your attention away from him, smiling pleasantly and greeting your 'husband.'
"Welcome, dear husband."
Geto returned your smile, extending his hand. You took it without hesitation. His eyes went straight to your ring, then to your bare neck. His smile turned into a satisfied one. Your heart skipped a beat. But you maintained your smile.
"Doesn't my wife look lovely?" Geto asked the four curse spirits.
The one with patched faces spoke first, his tone invasive. "I could make her look even lovelier," he said with a lighthearted smile, sending a shiver down your spine.
You trembled slightly but managed to stay composed. Geto chuckled softly.
"Be nice, Mahito," he chided.
The curse shrugged, looking past you to the table. "What's for dinner?"
Before you could answer, a gruff grunt caught your attention. You turned and found the one-eyed volcanic curse, Jogo, watching you intently.
You offered him a kind smile. He said nothing, merely walking past you. The large squid-like curse, Dagon, scooted by, bobbing its head in your direction. The largest one, Hanami, actually stopped and respectfully nodded at you. You reciprocated, all the while ignoring your son, whose hand Hanami was holding. After the curse spirits, it was Ziad, your confidant, a lean and stoic albino teen. He acknowledged you with a tilt of his head before heading to the table.
Roselyn left your side to attend to the guests, following Geto's dismissive wave.
You didn't want her to leave. You didn't want Geto to hold your hand. But you kept those thoughts concealed, giving Geto your full attention. He took your other hand, his eyes never leaving yours. You matched his gaze, feeling his eyes probing you.
When he seemed satisfied, he kissed your hand, avoiding the ring. Fire coursed through your veins.
But then you heard your son's laughter, and it instantly cooled your anger.
"Shall we join the others?" you suggested politely, keeping your tone respectful and low, your eyes on your son who was now engrossed in a roll.
Geto said nothing, so you took it as consent and took a step toward the table. Just then, Geto grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him.
"We need to talk in private," he whispered with intent. You went cold, a shiver running down your spine, knowing exactly what those words meant.
Roselyn saw the petrified look in your eyes. Ziad noticed too and got up from the table, grabbing a few rolls, much to Jogo's dismay, who scolded him for his lack of manners, and walked away.
Mahito laughed.
You needed to respond, but you were left speechless. You nodded obligingly. Geto released your wrist and took hold of your hand.
"Roselyn, we'll be eating in the room, again," he informed her, leading you away.
"Yes, Lord Geto. I shall bring you and Lady Geto your dinner."
"Wonderful. Oh, leave it outside too."
"Yes. And what about young Daiki?"
Geto paused for a moment. "Make sure he's in bed by ten."
"Yes."
With nothing more to say, Geto led you away.