𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔢𝔡.

Not Allowed

You always dreaded what news you were about to receive when one of the maid's of the Zenin clan would slide open your door with a sheepish look on their face. Every time you heard a certain man's name leave the messenger's lips, a part of you died inside, wondering and dreading what he'd request of you next. To be under the control of the embodiment of misogyny made you gag every time you thought of it, from prepping his dinner to being forced to train with him, it was enough for any non-sorcerer to go insane. But you knew if you didn't follow his request, the consequences would be dire.

But, there were days that weren't spent slugging yourself around with a figurative hunchback from all the misogyny and sexism over your shoulders. Only a handful of times did you see a pair of girls, twins, to be correct, walking around the Zenin estate. One of them had short and messy hair, you thought she looked like a sheepdog, and that it was cute. The other had perfectly cut bangs and her hair stopped at her jawline- her hair was also never messy, if the other differences couldn't spot them out before. On occasion, you'd run into one or both of them while you were both doing chores around the place, often which led to long conversations while you'd both merge duties around the estate to maintain the conversation. That doesn't always have a happy ending- for example, one night when you were sweeping the floors and the twins were doing other people's laundry and happily talking, one of the adults found the three of you and gave you all an earful about how 'you can't merge chores for leisure.'

Nothing lasts forever, and that's what humbled you when you stopped seeing the twins after a while. At the time, all three of you were 14- you were about to turn 15 in a few weeks (though nobody acknowledged it) when you heard that one of them left. Her name was Maki, you remembered, the one who had no cursed energy at all. Her sister, Mai, left shortly after she did. When you overheard one of the adults talking about it, you felt your heart begin to sink a bit; drowning in loneliness. Now for the next few months, you've been moping around the Zenin estate with no one to talk to, no one to share your frustrations about the misogynistic men who controlled you- not just your lord- around the place. It made your skin crawl when you'd pass one of the old men staring at you creepily. Sometimes you wondered if those old men knew how old you were, or if they even cared about that.

Still, here you are, sighing deeply as you reach down the side of the counter, grabbing a dirty rag and placing it in the hot water running from the tap. Thank god nobody else was in the kitchen at the moment, you couldn't take another gross comment from one of the other men today. Washing the dishes alone was better than being forced to lounge around with Naoya and the other adults- not just men, the stereotypical 1950's housewives, too. The pile was big every time you came into the kitchen, though that never stopped you from finishing them quickly, as they were usually just a bunch of small plates, bowls and tea mugs.

"This is the first time I'm not having to tell you," A smug, masculine voice came from the other side of the room. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound of his voice, clearly irritated; you still grabbed the dish soap, turning the bottle upside down and squeezing roughly to get the minuscule out beyond the entrance. The only noise in the room was the water running from the tap and the whistle that came from the bottle as you were shaking it onto the gray rag.

"I should get one of the other maids to do it, I have a request for you," He continued, stepping away from the entrance, his shoes clacking against the hardwood floor. Each step got louder as he was getting closer, and your skin was crawling by the time he was about half a foot away from you. His arm reached out to turn off the tap, pushing down on the lever, stopping you mid-wash. You turned to look up at him, grimacing at his expression that was equally as smug as his voice.

"Come," He nudged his head towards the doorway. "I need to talk to you about something." He finished as he finally started stepping away from you, slowly, but was still gaining distance. You waited for a moment, glaring at him as he was walking backwards as if to make sure you wouldn't grab a knife to stab him in the back, then ultimately set the dish and the rag down with it before you slowly followed him out.