When one day, Uchiha madara has a dream. A dream of a woman who's embrace is where he found his eternal peace
Word gets loose and now parents of every clan are showing off their daughters for marriage proposals
Okkotsu y/n, the youngest of eight si...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
...༻❁🝮❁༺...
"She's getting married to him?" You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. Your mother, with the gleam of excitement in her eyes, nodded in affirmation, her face lit with joy that you could hardly relate to.
You continued chopping the leeks, the rhythmic sound of the knife striking the cutting board mingling with the silence that consumed your kitchen. "Is it the year of marriage? It seems that many of my sisters are getting married." The sentence trailed off in thought; it was true. The distortions of tradition and expectations seemed to loom larger as each month passed, and now it was only you who remained unwed.
"Yes! This is a great opportunity to raise our ranking in popularity!" Your mother exclaimed, her face glowing as if she were a schoolgirl daydreaming about her crush. You couldn't fathom celebrating a conveyance of alliances through marriage. Your mind wandered as you prepared the meal, the repetition of the task becoming a soothing balm against the notion that your place in the world was increasingly precarious.
"Madara Uchiha is marrying Miya..." You replied, the words dripping with disbelief and a hint of cynicism. The name itself held weight in the community—Madara was a known figure, one surrounded by both reverence and disdain. "Well good luck to him." You slid the diced leeks to the side and reached for a clove of garlic, as if hoping to block out the bitterness that flavored the conversation.
"Are you insulting your sister again?" your mother said, the dough beneath her fingers giving way to the rhythm of her reprimand, feeling more like an attack than a gentle correction.
"I really wonder where that temper came from..." she sighed, the weight of her frustrations evident in the way her shoulders slumped slightly.
"Okaa-san..." you stopped chopping, a sense of resignation blanketing the atmosphere. Your mother's attention turned to you, her brow knitting together in concern.
"Do I really have to get married?" you asked, your voice unsteady, revealing the cracks in your bravado.
"What else will you do if not?" Her expectations were laid out before you like a feast with no end, a pressure that crushed you beneath its weight.
"I don't know. Maybe I'll open up a daycare." The thought was fleeting, an escape route you sketch out in your mind but never quite take seriously.
Your mother turned her head, curiosity mingling with her concern. "I know..." she simply stated, the tone leaving no room for further inquiry.
"You know?" You pressed, wanting her to expand on her cryptic admission.
"I know what your father has been doing to you girls and..."
"It's created a fear of men for you, hasn't it?" Your words were laced with bitterness, a raw acknowledgment of the wounds that ran deep in the fabric of your family.
