Strife ━ Kento Nanami

━ PROLOGUE

STRIFE.
prologue.

  THEY SAY I MUST BE CURSED.

"Shimizu Aiya cannot feel anything— what a wretched punishment to bear." Because it's not enough to just be cursed; you must also be deserving of it.

And I understand the misconception. I was a strange child, my circumstances different from those around me. I didn't lose anything to end up there. Not like the rest of them. I didn't have friends or a family to cling to— no memory of their love to torture myself with.

But, then, feelings of love and loss had always been foreign to me. So, it wasn't odd to discover their conclusions surrounding my indifference. The rumours whispered just within earshot.

"Aiya doesn't cry at night."

"Aiya has never run away."

"She doesn't fuss, not even when the women slap our hands raw."

They were wrong. I felt everything— and so I gained nothing. It didn't matter whether or not I had the sense to run, I had nowhere to go. The Redwood Institute was my home. The only one I had ever been afforded.

  It was the only place where things made sense.

  The blood of my knuckles could stain their meter sticks. My lungs could cough up clouds of chalk. That was all fine, because I knew where I was meant to be.

  I was a young heir. I was destined to learn under the great leadership of the Institute. Not that there was much of a choice... graduating was the only way I could claim my wealth and status. Silver spoons were nothing— mine were that of gold.

  But, here is one truth; I am an imposter.

  I did nothing to deserve my luxury, save for being born, and even that was a mistake. My parents never planned for a child. Then again, they certainly never planned to die early deaths, either. But, while the lesson couldn't have been more clear, it was one they learned too late.

  Life never gives you what is planned.

However, my existence interfered with what they wanted. I was an issue they couldn't afford. The life they dreamed of was worry free, so where did that leave me?

  Their solution was simple enough; make me someone else's problem. Despite it all, the staff were kind enough when raising me. Taking turns when others could no longer keep an extra mouth. My parents may have been rich, but that did not make them kind. Money rarely does.

So, when they died, hardly anyone cared enough to mourn.

  But, I remember that day, when the house went still. Dinner was meant to be served within the hour and we were falling behind. It was a rare occurrence when my help was needed, but I was asked to lay out the cutlery that night.

Gold forks. Gold knives. Gold spoons.

I remember thinking that I hated the colour gold. I remember laying down the last spoon, correcting its posture on the table. I remember the gasp that rippled through the kitchen before someone dropped a plate, gilded edges shattering on the ground.

The house stopped breathing. Every fragment of life put on hold— and they were all looking at me. I couldn't move. I was bound, shackled, and chained by those stares.

They looked at me like I was a solution; an answer to a prayer God had left unheard. No one had ever looked at me like that before. I had never been the answer, only the problem.

Everything afterwards was a blur. Nothing of note, really. I remember the lawyer, who promptly had my things packed. He was the only one who bothered to explain. Everyone else had just begged me not to forget. Whether it was their kindness, their consideration, or just the simple act of allowing me to live.

  And I never forgot. They had all taught me something valuable. Everything comes at a price.

  Being young and inheriting wealth makes for an odd situation. Being young, inheriting wealth, and forced into the lifestyle of a young heir is even stranger. You find that the world is completely different from the life you previously led.

  My life may have been a poorly-covered-up lie, but it was a comforting one. I had grown up believing I was cared for and that was enough. The staff feigned ignorance, but they all knew. One day their lies would pay off.

  It's too bad none of them had ever taught me the value in repaying a debt— but, if they had taught me anything, it was this; NOT ALL LOVE IS KIND.

▸

AN: first and foremost: dedications...

justsav who is always there to listen to my anime men brainrot... from daichi to nanami... u are nîcimos. i could go on and on FOREVER about how i love you so dearly and ONE DAY I WILL !!!

pelides my favourite nanami truther... if anyone saw our breakdown yesterday bc of Those scenes then no you didn't... i also need to say that i just adore you so much. thank u for listening to my nanami girl dad rants & everything in-between. here's hoping for happier jjk days because WE DESERVE IT!!!! I LOVE U !!!

stxrmborn HOW COULD I NOT TAG YOU ???? WE R IN THIS SH*T TOGETHER.... if there is one person i can count on to just Understand the struggle of viscerally needing a fictional character, it's always vic, mwah ♥️