The sky was grey, drizzling a cold mist that slid gently down the airport's glass walls, drawing winding lines like threads of memory that never truly fade. The air in Tokyo felt heavier than I remembered, as if the city hadn't changed… yet it was no longer the same.
I pushed my black suitcase forward, its small wheels humming softly against the airport's gleaming floor, while flight announcements echoed in formal Japanese—the language I was trying to grow accustomed to again. I stepped past the gate and took a breath, like someone facing her fate. Slowly, I lifted my head to the overcast sky, letting the raindrops touch my face, a strange mix of outer chill and inner warmth.
A black car pulled up to the curb. The back door opened with deliberate calm, and a tall man stepped out. He wore a sleek black suit and a traditional low-brimmed hat that shadowed part of his face. He approached with steady, confident steps and gave a small respectful bow before speaking in a quiet voice:
"Miss Elin… I've been waiting for you."
I stared at him with mild surprise. His features weren't familiar, but those sharp eyes and serious gaze stirred something forgotten. A name whispered in my mind.
Hiromachi Ryo.
The family's silent guardian, always lurking in the shadows of the house when I was a child. He hadn't changed much.
I climbed into the car in silence. The leather seats still carried that cold, refined luxury, and the scent… it was strange—aged leather mixed with memory. Ryo sat beside me without a word, and the car glided off into the rain.
"You seem taller than I remember, Miss," he said eventually.
I offered a faint smile without replying. I was still adjusting—to the return, to the faces I knew better than I wanted.
We passed through rain-soaked streets, city lights shimmering on the asphalt like dancing ghosts. After an hour, the car stopped in front of a towering wrought iron gate. The family crest was etched into its surface: "雪城 – Yukishiro," in the same old-style kanji I used to see on seals and documents in my father's office.
The gates creaked open slowly. We entered.
The car rolled down a long stone path, flanked by tall cherry trees stretching overhead like giant arms embracing the road with a touch of time. On either side, sprawling gardens came alive with dancing maple leaves and winding streams that mirrored the grey sky.
Five minutes of sacred silence… and then, the house came into view.
The Yukishiro estate.
Its massive façade was traditional in design, yet tinged with modern elegance. Sliding wooden windows, sloped roofs, dark tiles… everything was quiet, refined, watching me.
I stepped out of the car and followed Ryo to the front door. He opened it and gestured for me to go first.
Inside… it was warm, in contrast to the weather. Soft yellow lights, the scent of tea and aged wood, and long rugs spread across polished floors.
A woman in her fifties approached, dressed in a sleek black kimono. Her features were sharp yet serene. She gave a small bow and spoke in formal Japanese:
"Miss Elin, Master Masaru hasn't arrived yet… but your room has been prepared as it was. My name is Sayuka, and I'll be assisting you during your stay. Please, follow me."
I gave a small nod and followed in silence. I hadn't expected to see him right away. But he was my father… Was it strange he wasn't here to greet me? Maybe not. Maybe I'd grown so used to his absence that his presence now felt unnatural.
We passed through long corridors thick with the scent of the past, old paintings, and wooden doors etched with cherry blossoms. When she opened the door to my room—I gasped without meaning to.
It was exactly as I'd left it. White walls, large windows overlooking the back garden, the sliding wooden wardrobe… even my old doll was there on the shelf, staring at me as if she'd never left.
I slowly took off my shoes and walked across the silent tatami floor, then lay down briefly on the bed. The wooden ceiling above looked wider than I remembered… but it didn't stop the weight of strangeness from pressing on my chest.
After a long, hot bath, I breathed in the steam like someone reclaiming her body from ashes. I wore a loose pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to my elbows, with matching short shorts—something that brought me comfort, though it didn't quite settle my nerves. Suddenly, a gentle knock came at the door.
"Miss Elin… Master Masaru has returned. He is waiting for you in the dining room."
My heart, the fool, thudded loudly. I didn't know why. I stepped out with cautious steps, like entering forbidden ground, the sound of rain still whispering outside the windows.
The dining room was spacious, softly lit, with a long wooden table that could seat ten. But he sat alone at the end, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of sake in his hand.
When he saw me, he smiled. That same sarcastic smile—unchanged.
"You're finally here, huh? Only sixteen years late."
I held back a laugh and took the seat across from him.
"And you're still joking about everything—even when I'm about to explode with questions."
"Explode? No, don't do that here… we have new wallpaper."
I sipped a little warm soup, then gently set down the spoon and asked:
"Dad… about the contract. Between our family and the Kurosawa clan. What were you planning when you called me back?"
He looked at me for a long moment. The smile faded. His sharp eyes narrowed, studying my expression. Then he set the cup on the table and said:
"What exactly do you know about that?"
I answered immediately, with a confidence I tried to anchor in my voice:
"I know there's an old agreement between our families. Every fifteen years, someone from our side marries someone from theirs to strengthen the alliance. I was supposed to be the next sacrifice… but I got lucky, right? That Kurosawa son refused the marriage, didn't he?"
He laughed—loudly, like I'd just told the world's best joke. Then he said:
"Lucky? Oh god, who taught you that word? Elin, we don't escape contracts. We postpone them."
I froze.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… your engagement is in two days."
The rain outside grew heavier, but the shock inside me was louder. I stared at him as if I'd been slapped. I didn't understand. I couldn't grasp it.
I kept staring at him, expecting him to back down, to smile again and say it was a joke… but he didn't.
My father, Masaru Yukishiro — the man I hadn't seen in over a decade — simply told me I was engaged. In two days.
I lifted my eyes to him, searching for any explanation, anything to quell the fire rising in my chest.
"Dad… don't joke with me. I just came back from Italy. I don't even speak Japanese fluently anymore! I haven't seen you since I was eight… and now you tell me I'm engaged to a man I don't know?"
He sighed as he poured more sake into his glass and drank it down in one go.
"Ah… you come back with that European anger. Listen carefully, Elin…"
His voice changed. No longer sarcastic, it grew firmer, heavier.
"The bond between the Yukishiro and Kurosawa families isn't just a marriage contract. It's an alliance… a blood pledge. A hundred years ago, when Tokyo was in chaos, our ancestors restored balance through blood, sacrifice, and this pact. It's what kept us safe — and keeps us safe still."
He leaned on the table, elbows resting, and continued:
"The last contract was fifteen years ago. And yes, as you said, it was broken because the Kurosawa son — Arin Kurosawa — refused to marry you. That caused a rupture. Though no one was officially punished… the consequences were severe, both politically and economically. But now, at his request, the contract will be reinstated… and we will sign it again."
I stared at him in disbelief. His voice was steady, as if each word carried an unforgivable history. Then I asked more calmly than I expected:
"At his request? You mean… Arin himself reopened the subject of the marriage?"
He smiled faintly, swirling the glass in his fingers.
"Yes. Himself. It seems the Kurosawa family needs us now more than ever. There are political interests behind the scenes… suspicious moves by small mafia clans, and groups expanding unchecked. Arin… is smart. He knows the best way to rebalance power is by reviving the contract with us."
I felt like I was trapped in a strange dream. Or a nightmare.
"You speak of me like I'm a chess piece, like bait for a political deal…"
"Elin."
He called my name softly, but the strength in his voice overwhelmed everything.
"You are not bait. You are heir to the Yukishiro family. Being a girl doesn't mean your role in this world is less. Maybe… it's even more complicated than you think. This marriage will restore status to both families, keep the greedy away, and protect you… as well."
I swallowed hard. Thousands of questions swirled in my head, but the sound of rain, my father's voice, and his steady gaze froze everything inside me.
I whispered finally:
"Will I… see him before the engagement?"
He chuckled, low this time, as if pleased by the question.
"Oh, don't worry. You won't walk into this blind. You will meet him… very soon. But first, rest today. Tomorrow, you'll go shopping with Maiko to get everything you need for the ceremony. The engagement dress, celebration clothes, jewelry… everything."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, then slowly asked:
"Maiko… is she still here?"
"Of course. That girl never left Tokyo. When she heard you were back, she nearly flew with joy. She's been coming around every month, cleaning your room herself, saying I don't understand a thing. Such devotion…"
I couldn't help but smile faintly.
Maiko…
The only friend I left behind. The one who wrote me hundreds of letters I never answered. The one who always said, "It's okay, I'll stay here until you come back." Would she forgive me for years of silence?
My father finally stood up, grabbing his jacket from the chair beside him.
"I'll be busy until dawn… don't go far from the estate tonight. Things aren't as safe as before. Tomorrow morning… Maiko will be here."
He turned toward the door, then paused and looked back at me over his shoulder.
"Oh, one small thing…"
I stared, expecting another sarcastic remark.
"The contract renewal ceremony… will be the day after tomorrow. Under Mount Oyama. The very place where the first contract was signed a century ago."
"What?!"
"And at that ceremony, I will sign the blood contract before everyone with Arin, and hand him three penalties… as stated in clause five of the old contract. Delay means… consequences for us."
Then he winked lightly, his tone suddenly casual as if what he said wasn't terrifying at all.
"Sleep well, bride."
And he left.
I stayed seated long after he left. I didn't move. Not a single word escaped me.
Everything changed in a moment… or maybe nothing changed at all. Maybe this was my fate from the start, and I just returned too late.
I looked down at my hands folded on the table… would these hands soon be bound by a red thread?
Would I become… Arin Kurosawa's wife?
The rain outside started to quiet, but the storm raging inside me hadn't calmed.
I closed my eyes… and all I saw was a face I barely remembered,
A name… that was part of my childhood curse:
Arin Kurosawa.