Prologue:
This is a story about breaking fate.

It is about spirits who don the flesh of humans and the power of gods, who use their impossible strengths to control their paths of destiny.

It is also, however, about their fantastic weaknesses that make them seem no more or less susceptible to fate as mankind is.

This is a story about beating, pulling, and cutting threads.

This is also a story, however, about tying them back together.

Enjoy.

シズカ
Shizuka
A Small Love Story
by Naheka

1:The Letter(てがみ）

I suppose you could say once upon a time in some shabby apartment room located on the third floor of the complex, the story you are about to read had just about begun. It’s early autumn in a year so early that we humans cannot even imagine, let alone remember. There. That wasn’t too bad, was it?

You’re right. That was terrible. Oh well.

So a girl in this room lay on the crude wooden floor arrayed in a week’s worth of newspapers, scanning the articles with overall disinterest. The ceiling was nearly concealed by a stream of lavender smoke flowing out of a long cigar from her hand, occasionally shifting to meet her lips, or twirling as she grew even more bored of the stories below her.

“Musake,” she said nonchalantly to a photograph of a haughty-looking samurai posted on the front page. Below it in bold was written ‘NEW HOPE OF THE SOUTH’. “They’ll put anyone in a job today, won’t they?”

Ango touched her cigar to the center of Musake’s face, and the river of lavender withered with a soft hiss. He was an old classmate of hers at Nine Towers Academy, reserved only for the families of the lords of the country. He was probably as stupid then as he was stupid now, Ango figured. Some people just don’t change. Apathetically she concluded that it would not be her fault if the South suddenly collapsed in a week.

Being a lord must not be so great after all.

“Ango, the mail’s arrived.”

Ango glanced up momentarily to see her sister coming through the doorway, shuffling through a pile of letters with mild intrigue. Leiko tossed each card to the floor, one after the other. “Bills, bills,” she drawled, “dead subscription, bills, letter from parents,” and at this she tossed a narrow envelope to Ango across the room. Her mother’s undoubtedly neat handwriting composed their apartment address on the face.

Leiko was still sorting through mail as she drew out a thick envelope. “Him again?” she scoffed, examining the address. “I told him we broke up last, last week.” She broke the seal quickly.

Meanwhile, Ango had unclasped and unfolded the letter from home. It was short, and Ango was sure to read it over and over again.

“They want us back home for the winter,” she said to Leiko.

Her older sister was absorbed in the letter from an ex, and there was silence.

Ango’s mind began to race as she stared at the note. “You don’t think it could be…”

“Your promotion?” snapped Leiko, turning to page two of her once-lover’s proclamation of adoration. “Sure, why not.”

Ango beamed. Suddenly the idea of being a lord seemed good again. After all, she knew she was her father’s favorite(er) daughter, and he was king of the cardinal west. Well, not really king, but you get the point. That ninth of the country could be all hers. Oh, all the rivers she could control, the mountains she would own, and all the stupid things she could buy with more money….

“That is, of course,” interjected Leiko, shattering Ango’s fantasy, “if father hasn’t selected another candidate.” She leaned against the post of the doorway coolly. “You know he has at least one apprentice.”

Ango snorted. “Shut up.” She rested her head in her two clenched hands. The photo of Musake beamed up at her, despite the burn mark of the cigar over his nose and forehead.

However, as much as she’d love to deny it, Leiko’s statement was true. There was one rival for this honorable seat, and only one. His name was Kamidake – Ango’s arch nemesis since childhood.

Ango hated Kamidake with a passion. Not because he was a boy who was bloody obnoxious… but because he always seemed to do better than Ango. She was expected to study the arts of a lady, to be comely and charming like her mother and sister. Ango completely rejected it, but swore to be the best warrior, the daughter acting as a son for her father, in compensation.

Well, that didn’t really work. Why? Because Kamidake was there – her father’s official apprentice, legal because he was a stupid boy. A stupid boy! So he received the better training, the better attention.

And Kamidake would win. He could beat her at everything – at wrestling, at running, at magic, at arguing, in studies, and sometimes even in using weapons. That took the cake.

“He… will pay!”

“What?”

Ango blinked and looked up at Leiko again. Leiko returned eye contact with an awkward stare. Then she noticed that she had spoken out loud, and was currently clenching the newspapers on the floor so that it had torn around her grip. Bloody.

“So do you want me to get train tickets for next week or what?” asked Leiko, picking at her nails.

The younger sister sighed, and her body collapsed to the floor again. “Next week sounds good.”

And so this is about where our story began. Are the sentences too long? I think some of them go around in circles for a bit, but it’ll get nice and choppy once there’s some action in this story. I hope there’s action. Are you still reading this?