WHISPERS OF A BUTTERFLY • Kamisato Ayato

twenty. 二十

The Hiragii family had always said that you were fashioned by the gods to be the clan's best bride, the one to ease all their sorrows and usher in a new era of peace in the commission. You were the star that was destined to guide sailors through the dark sea. Not only were you the perfect daughter, as beautiful as a fine sea pearl, but your suitors found you very pliant and agreeable as well.

Perhaps that was more of the bitter past than the present.

Another bolt of lightning pierced the sky. The Raiden Shogun was either in a particularly good mood, or she was sending a warning signal to her people. Your parents thought it was a sign of her approval for your new fiancé. But you knew better.

Your new fiancé, Fujita Sanshirou, was a proud man. He had served in the Shogunate army during the civil war against Sangonomiya. For this, he held a grudge against the Traveler and Kazuha. You had thought that your parents wouldn't find someone so fast, but you had underestimated just how valuable you had become in Inazuma society with your popularity. Yet to them, even a foot soldier was better than any connection to the Yashiro Commission.

Inazuma met your new engagement with apprehensive confusion. They had expected Ayato. On the other hand, the Tenryou Commission welcomed it with hospitality, as if one of their clans hadn't been plotting your death just weeks ago. Your parents had fallen into their trap by connecting you to them; it was what they had wanted all along.

The first time you met your fiancé, very little traditional ceremony followed. They wanted you to get married as soon as possible. Sanshirou's company was unbearable. Your only consolation was his brevity.

Sanshirou told you that the lie the Tri-Commission fed to the public was very simple: that he issued Ayato a duel until blood was drawn in the Chinju Forest to fight for you.

"Something only a warrior could win," you surmised.

"Of course!" Sanshirou agreed enthusiastically. A cup of wine tilted lazily in his hand. You could not deny that his lie was efficient, however dull his conversation. "When the news arrived at the court of Tenshukaku, the shogunate asserted that tradition was to be strictly followed. Thus you may marry me, Lady Hiiragi."

Back then, you had been dazzled by the idea of marrying to fulfill your duty to your clan. Now you could see your youthful infatuation for what it was—unsubstantial, floating away into the thundering skies like a weak cloud of gray smoke.

The ceremony was scheduled in the Grand Narukami Shrine, right where you and Ayato had met. You hadn't imagined what your wedding would look like and the thought of it made you depressed to even wonder now.

You wished you had appreciated what you were given before it had vanished. Wished that you hadn't been born into a life where you couldn't make any decisions for yourself. A tiny part of you even wished that Ayato would at least try to see you, but you knew that it would be too selfish to ask for that of him.

At night, you would stare at the ceiling of your bedroom as you lay on your mattress, wondering if things like grace and dignity even mattered anymore.

Then, the images would come. Ayato's eyes, wide and dilated, above your body. His saccharine mouth, his hands, everywhere on you, light as a feather or rough as twine. Your hand would trail down your stomach until it disappeared under your skirt. And when the euphoria subsided after you were done with yourself, the longing to see him again only grew, greatly outweighing the guilt you felt about your sinful thoughts.

"Don't marry him," Chisato told you, as she helped you into your thick-layered black shiromuku. Your face had already been beautified with makeup, your hair pulled back under a traditional wig. "I wouldn't want you absorbed into an irrelevant Tenryou clan like the Fujitas. You're too important as the last marriageable child."