Chapter Text
The bed beside her was cold as she awoke.
There was a dull ache ringing in her lower abdomen and thighs as she winced from the pain of bruises that she had unknowingly put weight against.
The bitterness and anger of last night did not dissipate any as she was still left with a foul taste on her tongue and a seething rage that burned in her chest.
Miyuki’s attention was brought forward when she heard an attendant enter her room with medicinal herbs to provide the aftercare of last night’s atrocities while commending her on the insufferable union between her and her now husband.
She swore that she would pay back her pain and humiliation to each and every offender by tenfold one day.
She was dressed in an extravagant kimono-- a far nicer one than that her family could have afforded back then. But the design was gaudy.
Clashing colors that fought each other for dominance painted a messy and over-the-top image of herself. She looked like a peacock that had been dipped in colorful dyes and made to strut across town to portray some grandiose ideal that not a single person cared for.
“Do we not have any other robes in the closet?” she asked her attendant.
“I apologize, my lady. His lordship specifically requested that you wear this one to accompany him to a luncheon this afternoon.”
The sun’s position in the sky and the intensity of its rays made it clear that the event was only a couple of hours away. Miyuki let out a sigh-- no longer attempting to hide her distaste and frustration at the lack of freedom in choosing her own clothes.
She would be made to accompany her husband and be a side-piece to whoever had the absolute misfortune to deal with him in business today.
The ugly fact of the matter rearing its nasty head made her stomach clench with further frustration.
She was a doll. A doll for her husband to dress up, haul around and show off to others as a means to stroke his ego during the day, and she would be nothing but a pretty plaything that would serve as an outlet for his sexual needs and frustrations at night.
The cloth around her shoulders weighed her down like chains that shackled her to this miserable fate.
“Congratulations, my lord!” Miyuki watched as the lower-ranking government officials tried to butter up her husband. “Your wife is absolutely stunning!”
She bowed her head as a sign of thanks, but her true intention was to avert her eyes to the ground to spare them the repose of having to look at the blinding embodiment of pride and greed that was this afternoon gathering.
Her right arm was looped around her husband’s left as she was essentially dragged around and forced to smile and greet each and every last one of the filthy and corrupt officials that her husband wished to flaunt her with.
They finally took a seat at a table for which afternoon tea and snacks would be served.
She watched in mild relief as the servants carried out trays of plump mochi and steaming tea. The trays, cups and plates were carefully placed against the glossy surface of the table in front of her.
But Miyuki did not have the luxury of indulging in the sweet treats.
She stared in confusion as her husband slid his teacup towards her.
She blinked.
And blinked again.
Did he expect her to pour his tea for him? Like some sort of cheap entertainer?
“Miyuki?” Her name sounded from that vile mouth of his with a degrading tone disguised as a light-hearted tease.
Her teeth clenched as her fingers shook in anger as she grabbed ahold of the teapot.
Her eyes and mind flashed and played with the image of scalding her partner in marriage with the hot tea before bashing his head in with the ceramic pot, but she knew better.
The bright, translucent green tea poured from the pot’s spout and into the cup.
Not a single indication of gratitude was imparted to her as she handed the cup to him. In fact, the man had the tenacity to hand her the cups of his co-workers and superiors to further demolish her pride.
The snacks and tea were gone by the time she was made to fill and refill each one of the cups placed in front of her.
Miyuki swore that she would have choked on anything she attempted to eat or drink since her teeth and throat were clenched so tight with pure spite and anger.
Had her stomach not been filled with boiling hatred, she would have bitten the head off of her abhorrently intolerable husband to fill the void that the lack of breakfast and lunch had left in her body. She wasn’t sure whether to attribute the discomfort and growing pains in her belly to sheer anger or immense starvation.
At least dinner was arriving soon.
But dinner was no better.
She spilled the sake she was holding when her husband made a horrifically degrading comment to his boss at the dinner table.
“I’m afraid that I can’t join you for at least another day!” the man laughed as he beckoned for Miyuki to fill up his boss’s sake cup for the fifth time that night. “While the temptations of Yoshiwara are irresistibly alluring, I need to at least keep my wife company for another night before I can go out for a night of entertainment elsewhere!”
The tenacity of men! Her mouth was gaping wide enough to dislocate her jaw. Her vision flashed red and her breath was absolutely lost.
Miyuki set the bottle down on the table and sat down at her seat-- fuming as she watched the two men laugh and banter with filthy jokes that trampled over the esteem of herself and other women.
One day.
One day she will cut out that revolting tongue of his. She would slit his throat and watch him bleed to death, but not before dismembering each and every one of his limbs and sticking them into the various orifices of his body.
She stared at the untouched plate of food in front of her before grabbing her chopsticks and reaching for a single piece of tempura that was growing cold.
“Shouldn’t you be watching your weight, dear?”
Her chopsticks didn’t even touch the fried crumb of the breading when those words were heard.
She heard the boss chuckle as the two men made further remarks on her weight and how she should be keeping slim as to not lose her husband’s attention to some oiran in the red light district.
Miyuki set her chopsticks down.
Her stomach was plenty full.
Full from all the bullshit and crap that she had to deal with today.
As she laid in bed-- starfished and not giving a damn about entertaining her insufferable husband-- she cursed everything.
She cursed this society that crippled her. She cursed her lack of strength to grab ahold of her own freedom. She cursed her family for chaining her to this horrible man that degraded her and trampled all over her pride and body.
She cursed it all.
And she swore to destroy it.
While her husband slept after haphazardly shooting once and retiring for the rest of the night, she stared out at the night sky with absolute clarity and undeterrable intent.
This accursed society. These accursed people.
She would be the one that tramples them all into the dust.
Miyuki smiled to herself as she watched the moon peek out from the clouds.
She basked in its light.
One day. Soon.
She would revel in the glory of watching the faces of those pathetic worms plea for mercy that she would never give as she destroyed each and every one of them.
There would be nothing spared from her wrath.