𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 • 𝖘. 𝖆𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖜𝖆

II

The breeze felt as though a hungering acid eating away your throat. A feeling that of a minty spice upon inhaling, only to feel a harsh discomfort. Exhaling, though it felt like a race in which you'd need to catch up. Quickened breaths. The air hadn't been as consoling as you'd thought it to be— breathing only reminded you of drinking a cold glass of water after brushing your teeth. How unfortunate. You took matters into your own hands and attempt to console yourself whilst you focused upon the sounds which surrounded your trembling being.

Hand hovering over the shoji's spruce frame, why were you here, really? The faint sounds of the wind thrusting through the trees, the gentle trickle of a nearby stream, the unintelligible chatter of fellow clansmen not far, yet none of which could overpower the sound of your heart beating at a concerningly fast pace.

Irrational thoughts pried into your unwilling mind. They lingered, weaving themselves throughout your consciousness and lacing your thoughts with panic and pessimism. Since you took your first step upon the wooden path of the residence, you'd been in immense distress.

Was he to kill you on the spot? Surely dying of a heart attack would be a far superior—and far more prideful— way to go. Yet you'd likely die of a brutal punishment. Oddly, you found yourself egging your body on as to have a heart attack for that was a much more tempting fate. That is, had you done something wrong. Had you? Your uncertainty upon such an inquisition's answer left you doubting if you would leave the residence and live another day. 

Had joining this clan been of a good deed? One of which that would benefit both your superiors, and those they aimed to aid, protect? Your intentions certainly were not of the kind. Or perhaps it was nothing more than a mechanism as to earn you mother's approval by rising to the top as she'd wished you to. Personally, however, what is it that you wanted from joining? Why had you joined? A defeated huff snakes from your lips as you'd realized after numerous years of serving and rising up the ranks, you hadn't known what you desired from this experience.

Think. It mustn't be that hard to figure out what I desire after all these years.

Your eyelids weigh down. A warmth emitting from the darkness which engulfs you. What is it that I desi- "you're stalling". Glancing around the darkness with reluctance—near flinching— due to the voice which accompanied you in your mind palace. The voice isn't real of course, for you had been alone along this eerie path since you had bumped into the rougenett and the hotheaded brat around fifteen minutes ago.

"Stalling?" You echoed innocently. "Stalling,  Y/N". You'd recognize the voice as it grew much closer, hot breath caressing your outer ear whilst two arms slithered around your body, enclosing it. "Sensei?"  Flusteredly you inquire. Attempting to look behind you at said man, he'd only retract an arm and steer your head foreword via two fingers upon your jawline.  "You may be exiled if you wish not to attend," suddenly his grip tightened around your ribcage which emits a faint crack, you release a strained gasp and struggle in his embrace. He hushes you softly. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck before continuing, "though a rōnin is of no use without a head".

Your eyes shot open and a loud gasp slips from your lips. You pat down your ribcage with a shaky exhale before taking in as much air as you could. Why your sensei? Typically it has been your mother which infiltrated your little mind palace. You couldn't help but feel great frustration at your cluelessness.

Suddenly a thought came to mind. What if you simply did not attend? For your head they'd certainly hunt as your "sensei" stated within the palace. You definitely weren't of any use to the clan with the lacking of a head.

Your close relationship with Yagi, the chairman, hadn't mattered and it would not alter your fate for you took a vow. A vow in which you shall obey every, and any order provided no matter the cost. The order now being to rendezvous with your superior, and hopefully not die.