Obstinate Elitists

28

Grass tickling beneath your feet and the blue skies stretching above you, they did nothing to calm your nerves. What a beautiful scenery it always was, as it hid the ugly truths this world had to offer. It was honestly laughable, how perfect it was. A target board laid there in front of you, the small circle in the middle being the only acceptable route. A deathly reminder it was, accompanied by disappointed faces. The target was painted in many colors, which probably could capture your attention as a child... but this no longer was a child's game.

"Three arrows," the strange man explained curtly, nodding his head towards the direction of the target. Three arrows and three bullseyes -- that was what he truly meant.

Quietly taking the arrows and the bow, you nocked one and took a deep breath. Just like one of Ginjirou's tutor sessions. You had done this countless of times and though the chance was usually low to get a bullseye, perhaps a miracle would be granted.

You let go of it, the woosh of it swaying your face as it made its way to the board.

You had already failed. Too afraid to see your father's reaction, you nocked the other two and did the same thing. Only one was close to the bullseye, but alas, it did not land directly on it.

A slap across your face knocked the wind out of you. Tumbling to the ground, you fearfully looked up to see a looming shadow of your father, whose face was contorted in anger and disbelief. Holy shit. You knew that this man was bad news, but you didn't expect him to turn violent so quickly. Instinctively, a hand clamped over your cheek, face stinging at the impact. Your teeth also accidentally bit down the inside of your cheek during the series of events, so the iron tang of blood filled at the base of your mouth.

"Is this a joke to you?!" he bellowed, vision growing red. That wasn't even it. He must've thought you weren't trying here, but you were... because you were no longer the daughter he knew of.

"It's not a joke," you mumbled, eyes stuck to the dirt that slipped beneath your nails.

"We're moving on," he said, roughly wrapping a hand around your wrist. You were yanked up, so you bit down on your bottom lip to prevent a gasp from escaping. "Your favorite. Sword-fighting."

Two swords were provided by a servant of the house and fortunately enough, they were wooden ones. Picking one up, you didn't even have the time or day to think before a blow was aimed to your torso. This was not like the battles you had with Azumi, who was at a similar level to you. Nor was it like with Ginjirou, who went easy on you and always gave you time to attack back or defend. This was an actual battle with someone who held no mercy, ready to tear you apart because [Y/N] [L/N] was better than this.

Dammit. What kind of predicament was this?

You tried to dodge, jumping from one side, but the sword met you there. Slammed on the side of your arm, you whimpered at the pain and dropped the weapon.

He let out a barking laugh, not at all amused by the sight to behold, his features growing darker by the second. He crouched down and pressed the tip of the sword to your neck. It may not kill you, but it was pushed hard enough into your skin to feel pain. You winced and held your breath as he analyzed you for a moment.

That was when he spat at you. Spit flung into the air, landing right on your previously slapped cheek. You parted your lips in surprise, chest squeezing like it was running out of oxygen. How suffocating. It was dirty, it was gross, and it was obvious how much he looked down on you. Despite how frustrated and miserable you were, you couldn't do anything about it. He had you beat, his vines tugging you down until you were at his feet. "An utter disgrace. You stupid bitch. Did you not once train at all since the last time I visited? And here I thought you were finally going to inherit the business."

You were surprised when he took the sword away. Standing up, he fixed his rumpled suit. His cologne furled its way to your nose, making you feel nauseated.

"This is a waste of time. There's no use testing you further if I already know where you're currently standing," he stated. "You're a failure and now I'll have to waste my time fixing you back up. So stay back here and don't come inside until you've done a hundred push ups." He glanced over at the servant standing in the corner. "You. Make a bath for me. I'm getting a headache from this."

"You're... staying?!" you blurted, panic expanding through your system. You didn't even last for the entirety of the test and he had already made up his mind. This could not get any more humiliating.

His irises flicked back to you, staring at you as if you were a rodent to be stepped on. "Do you not agree with my decision?"

Backpedaling for a bit, you nervously shook your head. "It's just... you're always so busy with work. Training me here would only prove a hassle to you."

"And whose fault do you think this lays on?" he sneered. "You didn't pass like you were supposed to."

Whirling around, he stepped into the house, leaving you alone in the garden. You sagged your shoulders at his departure, picking up clumps up grass and throwing them in anger. Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, you got into position and started your push ups.

He had waltzed right into your mother's home, acting like he was the head of the house he had long abandoned. The woman who had comforted you from time to time again did not deserve this. She now had to suffer in your stead, for they had an unspeakable history shared.

Helpless and determined -- the two emotions you were feeling most.