The eye of the storm (Sanemi x Reader)

32| Jealousy

The room where the master summoned us when he wanted to speak with one of us alone always evoked tranquility for me. The furniture around me was spotless. The wood gleamed under the first rays of dawn. The scent of jasmine filled the air. It was pleasant. Just sitting on the soft floor, gazing through the windows at the rose and lily garden, made you feel like you were in heaven.

That's how I should have been feeling just now, admiring the new shoots on the rose bushes, but reality was far from it. I was agitated, nervous, even sweaty. If the master had called me to his private meeting room, it could only mean one thing: he wanted an answer about my position as The Thunder Pillar. Perhaps he already had someone new in mind to take my place if I declined.

Just thinking about it made me even more nervous. Was I capable of giving an answer right now? I wasn't even sure if I could cut off a demon's head again. Himejima's training had helped calm my anxiety, but it hadn't necessarily restored my self-confidence.

I heard footsteps approaching the door and waited with my head slightly bowed, ready to greet the master. My fingers trembled, so I rested them on the floor to hide my nervousness. I was about to bow completely when a very different face appeared in the doorway. His disheveled white hair gave away who it was, and immediately I straightened up. There was no way I was going to bow to him, although in a way, I already had, and that's why we both had flushed cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" Shinazugawa had the nerve to ask me with boredom, as if I weren't part of the fraternity.

"What are you doing here?" I countered, furrowing my brow. Since he was standing and I was kneeling, he seemed even taller than usual, an impenetrable brick wall. Although I had already found a few cracks.

"The master summoned me," he replied haughtily, as if I weren't a pillar just like him.

"The master summoned me too," I grumbled, holding his gaze.

"That can't be," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "It has be a mistake."

He said it and seemed perfectly satisfied. He didn't even bother to look at me. But when he noticed the fierce glare I was giving him, he regarded me as if I were an insignificant speck of dust completely out of place in such a pristine place.

"There's no mistake," declared the master, entering through the door that led to the garden, opposite to where Shinazugawa had entered. Thank goodness he appeared just then because Shinazugawa and I were on the brink of World War II.

Shinazugawa didn't waste a millisecond before kneeling in reverence before the master, greeting him with the calmest tone I had heard in days. I did the same, my head touching the floor. I felt I owed the master a lot, so I couldn't help but think that my bow, despite my back being bent to its fullest, wasn't enough. Perhaps I needed to bury my head inside the earth to make up for my inadequacy.

"(Y/n), my child," the sweet voice of the master made me open my tightly shut eyes, as if expecting some kind of punishment. "You may lift your head."

His voice was as gentle as the petals of the roses his wife had planted in the garden. It was impossible not to feel embraced by his kindness. It was only then that I realized my head was still grazing the ground. Also, how could the master see it if he was blind? There were things I would never understand. I straightened my back and looked around. Shinazugawa was looking at me with a raised eyebrow. Apparently, he had stopped bowing five decades ago and was now sitting on the floor with crossed legs and hands on his knees. He had left a prudent distance between me and him.

I pursed my lips and ignored his glances and mocking gestures. I focused on the master as if he were the only person in the room. The master addressed me first as well. His smile brought me some relief.