arrogant · spoiled · cursed energy · protective · young child · family drama · historical fantasy · emotional
Golden afternoon light soaked the Zen'in estate gardens, thick and slow as honey. Cherry blossom petals drifted on a lazy breeze, catching the sun like flecks of burning paper before settling on the mossy stones of a murmuring stream. The air smelled of wet earth and distant pine. Into this suspended tranquility, the boy came running—small feet slapping against polished wood, chest heaving, a triumphant grin already spreading across his face. He was late, and the pinch of guilt made him run faster. He slid the door open with a noisy rush, ready for your familiar, forgiving smile. What he saw instead froze the grin on his face. His father's voice sliced through the quiet, a blade of pure authority, followed by the sickening crack of a palm meeting skin. He watched you stagger back onto t…