Chapter 8
Ayame’s Mind Befuddled

After their little detour, they pick up on their lost time as they finally make it to the north of Ayama’s homelands. With night time hanging over the frozen lands, the temperatures began to drop below normal temperatures. Unlike the Living World, with their buildings‘ lights blinding the sight of the sky‘s magnificent display of the cosmos, the skies above them were filled with stars, twinkling in the night sky as the snow and ice below glistened from the sparkling show. Traveling on the paved, icy road, they huddle together to keep warm, except for Ayama, Hajji, and Kumori. Miwa on the other hand keeps her distance away from Kushiro, even at freezing temperatures, she would rather freeze then to huddle with Kushiro for warmth. Ayama stares mindlessly at the lit sky, realizing what she left behind a year ago.

Ayama: Guys, it’s so pretty out here. You should see it.
Kushiro: Wish we could, but.
Suzuki: It’s cold!!
Kumori: Miwa, are you cold?
Miwa: No, I’m fine.
Ayama: You’re face looks pretty numb and pale.
Miwa: I am not.
Suzuki: Miwa, stop b-b-b-being so stub-b-b-born and huddle up with us!
Miwa: I rather freeze.
Suzuki: Fine! Then we’re com-m-m-ming over there!
Kushiro: What?!

Suzuki then shoves Kushiro and squeezes him between her and Miwa. Then Kushiro’s hand fumbles onto Miwa’s breast as she slowly turns her head and gives a cold yet blunt stare.

Suzuki: There, now we’re all warm.
Kushiro: Uhhh . . . . I didn’t mean to.
Miwa: . . . . . . . . . Hmm.

Then a loud crashing sound rings out from behind Hajji, as it startles the horses. He quickly calms them down, steps down from his seat, and takes a look at where the sound came from. He then finds Kushiro’s head forced through the splintered side of the carriage with the rest of the furnish destroyed and soaked in blood.

Hajji: Oh my.
Suzuki: Miwa! This is Ayama’s parents’ property!
Miwa: So? They can buy a new one.
Ayame: Is he okay?!
Hajji: Well his head went through a mahogany wood frame. Surprisingly he’s not dead.
Miwa: Lucky that he has a hardhead instead of an empty one.
Ayama: Miwa you could’ve killed him!
Suzuki: Yeah, we were just trying to keep you warm!
Miwa: His hand was on my breast.
Suzuki: What?! Kushi you pervert! [kicks Kushiro in the butt] Take that!
Ayama: But you . . . . Never mind.
Kumori: [chuckles] I’m sure he’ll be okay.

Hajji returns to his seat and continues onward to the manor while Ayame pulls his head out of the hole and places him next to her. She then lays his head down on her lap as she takes out a cloth and wipes the dripping blood of his head. Meanwhile, Yukio and the others make it as well, only to tread through the snow on foot, freezing themselves half to death.

Yukio: S-s-s-s-s-sooooo cold.
Dash: Well we weren’t g-g-going to a beach!
Yukio: Sh-sh-shut up!
Ayano: My h-h-hair.
Hitomi: Dear at a t-time like this, hair should be the least of your worries.
Ayano: Yukio are we heading the right way?! My hair is getting stiff!
Yukio: I believe so.
Hitomi: You do realize they’re the only ones who live up here?
Yukio: S-s-s-so?
Hitomi: That means two hundred thousand acres of land to tr-r-ravel.
Dash: Look, let’s just be lucky there isn’t a snow storm.

Then a little drop of snow drifts in his face, as snow starts to pour down over their heads. They all glare at Dash for his brilliant forecast as he chuckles at them.

Dash: Sooo? It’s just a little snow.

Then a sudden gust of wind blows over them as the snow picks up into a snow storm. They then grasp their swords, giving him infuriated looks for another one of his unfortunate sayings.

Dash: Okay, it can be worse.
Ayano: Dash just shut up!!
Yukio: We have t-t-t-to hurry!

As they continue onward in the harsh conditions of the blizzard, the others finally make it to the estate. A large massive white mansion with marble columns, and the many rose bushes in the front were fighting to stay alive in the freezing and ruthless blizzard. Hajji quickly parks the carriage as closely as possible to the double wide red doors, and opens the door as they run into the safety of the manor. Inside, was the living room, a beautiful sight to behold; double spiral staircase with the Chiba’s family mark in the center of the room and staircase, very artistic paintings hung on the walls along with the family portrait of her, her mother, and father, a large golden chandelier decorated with diamonds, shining and glittering from the precious jewels decorating it, flowers potted in vases of rarity, carpets designed of luxurious fabrics, and the floor was so polished that it reflected the image of the entire area. Her friends gasped at the sight of her parents’ vast riches as Hajji returns after putting the horses and carriage back into the stable.

Hajji: Brrr, such nasty weather.
Kumori: We made good time. Only a few hours before day break.
Suzuki: Wow, your home is so sparkly clean!
Ayama: Thanks. I wish Kushiro would wake up and see but Miwa knocked him out cold.
Miwa: I had my reasons.
Kumori: He will surely have enough time to take a tour of your family’s lovely abode.
Ayama: Yeah.
Hajji: I’ll take the young man, the rest of you make yourselves at home while I notify your parents of your arrival.
Suzuki: Nighty-night pervert.
Miwa: Suzuki would you please. I’m trying to get that memory out of my head.
Kumori: Well, I must retire for the night. Goodnight my love.
Ayame: Goodnight.

He then leans in to kiss her goodnight, but she turns away unease of his approach to her.

Kumori: I understand. Excuse me for my rudeness.
Ayama: I’m sorry, . . . I’m just not comfortable with you yet.
Kumori: Maybe we should take our time tomorrow to learn one another. How’s that sound?
Ayama: Sounds okay.
Kumori: Goodnight everyone. I hope you all have a restful sleep. [leaves]
Miwa: You’re still not use to him?
Ayama: No.
Suzuki: Aww, don’t feel bad Ayama. Be happy.
Ayama: It’s not as easy as it seems. I wish I could be like you Suzuki.
Suzuki: [blushes] Really?!
Ayama: Yeah, you always seem to find a way to smile. Nothing seems to trouble you until it really matters or we’re in battle.
Suzuki: Well Otis always tells me this, “Don’t worry, be happy.”. It’s healthy to smile everyone once in a while.
Ayama: Uh . . . . I’m sorry, I can’t.
Suzuki: Don’t fret, I know what will make you smile.
Ayama: Really, what?
Suzuki: While everyone is asleep, you sneak into Kushiro’s room and give him a nice, wet.
Ayama: [blushes] Suzuki!
Miwa: How many times did I tell you not to bring that up?
Suzuki: I’m sorry. You could always kiss me Ayama.
Ayama: What?
Suzuki: [giggles]
Ayama: Uh . . . [smiles] You’re weird Suzuki, but that’s what I like about you.
Suzuki: Well I’m glad my weirdness comes in handy.
???: Ayame! Ayame my dear!
Ayame: Father?
Miwa & Suzuki: Ayame?

Ayame’s father comes running down the stairs in his brown evening robe with black linings and pants with the family‘s mark on both sides below the shoulder area. He had brown chestnut hair, a mustache, reading glasses, and a hickory made antique pipe in his hand as he scooped up Ayame from the floor while hugging her ever so tightly.

???: Oh thank the stars! You’re alive!
Ayame: Dad, too tight.
???: Oh, sorry my dear. I was so worried about you. When Hajji told me you were kidnapped we became so worried, and your mother went into shock.
Ayame: Is she okay?
???: She’s doing fine. She just needs rest. Who are your associates?
Ayame: These are my friends, Suzuki Ibaraki and Miwa Kanagawa.
Suzuki: Hi.
Miwa: So what’s her allowance, one thousand dollars a week?
Ayame: [nervous chuckle]
Vince: Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Vince L. Chiba. I’m her father.
Suzuki: Nice to meet you sir.
Vince: You must be tired my dear.
Ayame: Not really.
Vince: But tomorrow is a big day, you must rest, and your mother surely awaits your presence.
Ayame: Okay. Come on guys, I’ll show you my room.
Suzuki: Wait a minute! You told us your name was Ayama! Which is it?!
Ayame: Ayame is my original name. Sometimes my grandmother and others call me Ayama instead of Ayame, because of the last letter in my name, but I like them both.
Suzuki: I like Ayame better.
Ayame: Come on. What’s wrong with Ayama?
Miwa: It sounds like a boy’s name.
Ayame: Oh what do you know? I was little and it sounded too girly.
Suzuki: Then we’re calling you Ayame for now. It’s a prettier name.


Ayame leads them up the stairs and down the long, dimly lit corridor to her room. They look around as they travel down the hall, crimson red carpeting with the family’s mark ten feet from each other on the floor, wood furnished walls, and tables with vases holding roses in them. They finally make it down halfway as she opens the door and turns on the light. Surprisingly, her room seemed very normal for the daughter of the richest family in the Reikai World. A normal plain white room with floral posters hanging on the wall, a queen sized bed with pink sheets, a giant window with sliver frames, with a door leading to the outside balcony where a beautiful overview of the snowy plains can be seen, but due to the storm the floor was too slippery, and a normal fabric tan carpeting.

Ayame: This is my room guys.
Miwa: You know, I was expecting more from you.
Ayame: Like what?
Miwa: I don’t know, things people out there can’t afford or have because some things you have are from the Living World.
Ayame: What makes you say that?
Suzuki: This isn’t your room is it?
Ayame: . . . . . . Okay, you guys got me, this is one of my other moves.
Miwa: Other rooms?
Suzuki: How many rooms do you have?
Ayame: Ten.
Miwa: You really are spoiled.
Ayame: No I’m not. You guys get settled in, I’ll get some sleeping bags for us. Feel free to look in the closet for something to wear to bed.
Suzuki: You’re sleeping in your bed right?
Ayame: Nah, it wouldn’t be fair for you guys.

They then take a look inside of her closet, which was stacked and loaded with different varieties of pajamas. Suzuki then finds a button on the wall inside the closet and presses it. The whole closet then rotates and displays a new set of clothing of summer outfits.

Miwa: She’s spoiled to no end.

Meanwhile, Kushiro falls into a deep sleep in a dark room only lit by the shining stars. The shadow of the window frame looms over him, as another shadow from a person passes by. A girlish hand glides over Kushiro’s chest and up to his cheeks. Her red polished nails slide down to his neck, as her head leans in from the darkness into the star light. Hisako’s face then appears, as she hovers her head over his, smiling with such innocence as she gets closer to him.

Hisako: Hmm . . . Why am I so drawn to you like this? . . . I hate you for taking the only thing that reminds me of my father, but I love being around you. . . . I guess it’s because I fall in love so easily. . .I plan on taking my sword back, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take the one thing you stole from me that day. . . . . The day, you took my heart.

Her hand then caresses within his hair, playing with one of the strands in his bangs. As her hand travels his face, he suddenly feels a bit tepid. Moaning and sweating a bit, Hisako stops as her hand retreats from his face and he quickly cools down.

Hisako: But the thing is . . . . Is that I can’t touch you. . . . I can’t kiss you for long . . . . I won’t even be able to bare your child. . . . But even with this curse, I’m still drawn to you. . . But I must do what I must do. . . . I see why he did it. . . . I’ll never be able to experience my womanhood if I don‘t do what needs to be done. . . . Forgive me Kushiro.

Then the door begins to open, as Ayame walks in with a wet rag to check on Kushiro, but Hisako doesn’t appear to her sight. Apparently using demon magic to conceal her presence, Ayame walks over to the side of the bed, unknowingly taking a seat next to Hisako. She then feels his face, sensing the burning sensation, she dabs the rag over Kushiro to cool him down. As she does so, Hisako grows more enraged and jealous of Ayame being able to touch him. Her hands tightly gripping her arms, as her nails dig deep into her skin, causing herself to leak blood down her arms. The blood drips on the carpet below her feet as Ayame tends to his care.

Ayame: Miwa sure can be rough on you, but I know she cares. We all care Kushiro. . . Because, you’re our friend. . . . And . . . Well. I think our lives at the academy would be incomplete without you, without any of us. . . I know at sometimes, you can be a real jerk, a pompous little brat, a total jerk, . . . . But, that’s what makes you special . . . To me.
Hisako: [gasps]
Ayame: And I know you can’t hear me . . . . But . . . . I . . . don’t know what to say. . . I . . . want to thank you for being here with me. You truly are a good friend.

Ayame continues to pat him down with the rag, working her way down to the side of his neck. His head then falls into her hand, enjoying the soothing touch and concern she gives him. She blushes at the sight of his reaction, and leans in close to him. Hisako boils with anger as she gets closer to him, rising her hand from her bleeding arms as flames kindle from her fingertips. The closer she got to Kushiro, the more she wanted to snatch her by the hair while the flames on her fingers burn ignite her head. Ayame then places her hand behind his neck and gently lifts his head up to hers as she gets closer to his forehead. Hisako couldn’t stand it any longer, and attacks her from behind, only to stop a split second when Vince opens the door. Ayame quickly lifts herself from his bedside as the flames from Hisako’s fingertips disappear.

Vince: Uh, who’s this?
Ayame: Father, this is Kushiro. Another one of my friends. He kind of, got into in accident along the way here and Hajji placed him in here.
Vince: What were you doing in here?
Ayame: I just wanted to see if he was okay.
Vince: . . . . I don’t want to see you alone with this boy again. Understand?
Ayame: But.
Vince: Ayame.
Ayame: . . . Yes father.
Vince: Your friends are waiting for you, come.

Ayame takes one more look at Kushiro, laying there smiling happily from her touch. She then leaves as her father closes the door, leaving him with Hisako. Hisako then takes a deep breath, relived that Ayame did not kiss him. Then a filament of slobber starts to trickle in front of her sight, as she looks up at the ceiling to find Kamisori.

Hisako: Eww!
Kamisori: [snickers]
Hisako: You keep Kushi safe for me, or you’ll pay.
Kamisori: Hmm?
Hisako: That’s right, I’m threatening you.
Kamisori: [growls]
Hisako: Don’t try it.

Hisako then shows the palm of her hand, as an black ember sparks into her hand. Kamisori calms down from the sight of the flame, as Hisako douses the flame from her hand. Hisako then turns her attention to Kushiro, as she leans in to kiss him goodnight, but her close encounter makes him unnerving as he twists and turns in his bed. The sight of his agony offends her, as she disappears into the darkness of the room.
Ayame quickly gathers the sleeping bags and heads back to her room. When she enters, she finds them already in their sleeping clothes and Suzuki playing with her revolving closet, rapidly pressing the button as the selection of clothes pass by while Miwa wrote in her diary. Suzuki wearing a one piece baby blue silk sleep wear, and Miwa in a white tank top and purple bottoms.

Ayame: What are you doing?
Suzuki: I’m trying to find out how many sets of clothes do you own.
Miwa: It’s set by seasons, so it’s four.
Suzuki: [stops] Oh.
Ayame: How long have you’ve been doing that?
Suzuki: . . . . . I don’t know.
Ayame: You’re silly. I got the sleeping bags.
Suzuki: Let’s stay up late.
Miwa: Let’s not.
Suzuki: Come on, slumber party!
Ayame: Yeah, it’ll be great.
Miwa: I rather not.
Suzuki: Come on. We never had a slumber party in ages.
Miwa: It’s only been a year.
Ayame: We can talk about what you’re writing in that diary of yours.
Miwa: My diary is my personal space of my life’s miracles and tribulations. Something not meant for the eyes of others
Suzuki: That’s what makes it a slumber party.
Miwa: No.
Suzuki: Then what else is there to do?

Miwa then takes the pillow from behind her and flings it at Suzuki’s face. It makes contact as it falls off her face revealing a surprised look.

Miwa: There’s that.
Ayame: She got you Suzuki.
Suzuki: . . . . . . . Pillow fight!

As the girls have their pillow fight, Kushiro wakes up with a pounding headache. Dizzy and confused, he looks around his unknown surroundings and finds Kamisori hanging on the wall behind him.

Kushiro: I wish you stop that.
Kamisori: [grins]
Kushiro: Where am I? The only thing I remember is something soft and round.
Kamisori: [laughs] Bam!
Kushiro: Shut up ugly. I don’t know why you stay with me.

Kushiro steps out of bed and opens the door silently. He pokes his head into the gloomy hallway and carefully sneaks out while closing the door. Kamisori phases through the walls as he floats overhead Kushiro’s progression through the halls. He soon hears the girls behind one of the doors, placing his ear against the door to hear their conversation.

Ayame: So who would you guys marry?
Suzuki: Your fiancé.
Ayame: Other than him.
Suzuki: Well, I don’t know. I never found the one I want to be with. What about you Miwa?
Miwa: Never.
Suzuki: Come on, you must have a crush on someone.
Miwa: I don’t.
Ayame: Everyone does Miwa. Come on, we won’t tell.
Miwa: When will you two understand I don’t have that glamorous life of a teenage girl?
Suzuki: Never I guess.
Ayame: Just name someone random.
Miwa: Hmm . . . . Ire.
Suzuki: For real?!
Miwa: It’s just a random selection.
Ayame: Why would you pick him?
Miwa: He’s quiet and doesn’t get in the way. Sometimes I get along with him more than any other guy I met.
Ayame: What if you had a chance to kiss him?
Miwa: Excuse me?
Suzuki: Yeah, it’s just you and him, on a romantic night with the moon and the stars. You’re both sitting under a tree while he’s holding you in his arms.
Ayame: I can’t imagine Ire being that romantic.
Suzuki: She’ll probably end up kissing his mask. [giggles]
Miwa: What about you Juliet? Who’s your dream guy?
Ayame: Me?
Suzuki: Yeah, who would you kiss?
Ayame: Well . . . I kind of have feelings for him, but I’m not sure if they’re real.
Suzuki: Who?
Ayame: . . . . Kushiro.
Kushiro: Me?
Suzuki: You like Kushi?
Ayame: Only as a friend.
Suzuki: Why?
Ayame: Well he’s kind, sweet, he makes me laugh, kind of cute. His bangs are what really attract me.
Miwa: You do know he’s back with Kunoichi?
Ayame: He is?
Suzuki: Yeah, he patched up things, and then he patched up her mouth with his.
Miwa: Ugh, don’t remind me.
Kushiro: . . . . Ayame likes me?
Ayame: I guess I can only be friends with him.
Suzuki: Oooor, . . . You can always sneak with him.
Ayame: What are you saying?
Miwa: Suzuki don’t.
Suzuki: All I’m saying is we’re in the Reikai World and she’s in the Living World. The only way you’ll get caught is if he marries both of you.
Ayame: How can you even say that?
Suzuki: Just a suggestion.
Miwa: It’s impossible. The law states that those who are born in the Reikai World cannot fall in love with those who are born in the Living World.
Suzuki: Why’s that?
Miwa: Unearthly powers, a disturbance in the Law of the Living.
Suzuki: Uhhh . . . . Refresh my memory?
Miwa: The law states that no human in the Living World is to find out about the truth of the afterlife. Doing so might upset stability of their world and chaos will rain. Religions will mean nothing, sin would be committed on a daily basis, and the population of humans would deplete. Thus the military won’t be able to keep up with the fallen souls and protect the citizens of the Reikai World.
Suzuki: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . . . . Ouch.
Miwa: [growls]
Suzuki: Sorry, my brain froze.
Ayame: Basically humans shouldn’t know about the afterlife.
Suzuki: Wait, but what about Kushi? He’s from the Living World.
Ayame: Maybe it’s because he is Hiro’s son.
Suzuki: So you really want Kushi?
Ayame: No, since he has Kunoichi now.
Suzuki: If he wasn’t with her, would you?
Ayame: . . . . . I don’t know.
Kushiro: If Ayame likes me, then I’m in trouble. I can’t have two girlfriends. What do you think Kamisori? . . . . Kamisori?

Kushiro frantically looks around to find him, but he mysteriously disappears. Kamisori then appears in the girls room, smiling at them as they turn their attention to him.

Suzuki: Kamisori?
Ayame: What are you doing here?

He then opens the door to expose Kushiro squatting behind the door. He slowly turns his head, his heart thumping and frozen with fear.

Kushiro: Uhh . . . . Hi.
Suzuki: Get him!

The girls quickly leap from the floor and grab Kushiro by the collar of his Kimono. He tries to break free but with their combined strength they drag him inside as he sobs, leaving a trail of tears behind. They throw him into a chair and tie him up with bed sheets, securing him so he wouldn’t be able to flee.

Miwa: So what should we do with him?
Suzuki: Let’s make him cry.
Miwa: I’m good at that. [cracks her knuckles] I still haven’t forgiven you for molesting me.
Kushiro: Molesting?! When did I do that?!
Suzuki: I think you hit him too hard.
Miwa: I didn’t hit him hard enough.
Ayame: Now girls, let’s be delicate about this. We are growing ladies so it’s our job to act like one. . . . Let’s put make-up on him.
Kushiro: What?!
Suzuki: I’ll get the lipstick!
Kushiro: Hey wait a minute! I don’t deserve this!
Ayame: Well, it depends. Were you listening to our whole conversation?
Kushiro: Uh . . . No?
Ayame: . . . . A lovely shade of mascara will bring out your eyes quite nicely.
Kushiro: Noooo!
Suzuki: Hold still, we wouldn’t want any lipstick on your face.

Kushiro squirms and struggles to move away from their make-up accessories, but the restraints and them gathering around him keeps him from moving. About a few minutes later, the girls step away as Ayame grabs a hand mirror nearby. She then places the mirror in front of Kushiro to show him his new appearance. He freaks out when he sees himself with blue mascara, white powder all over his face, blush, his eyelashes brushed, a pink bow on his head, red lipstick, and a round gold earring on his left ear.

Kushiro: Wipe this mess off me!
Suzuki: Just be lucky we couldn’t get the dress on you while you were tied up.
Ayame: I couldn’t find the other earring.
Miwa: You look pretty though.
Kushiro: [growls]
Ayame: Aww, is the baby going to cry?
Kushiro: I’ll get you three for this.
Ayame: Serves you right, eavesdrop on us. Just tell us how much you know and we might let you go.
Kushiro: . . . The part where you guys were talking about who you would kiss.
Ayame: Really? . . . [smiles] Guess what?
Kushiro: What?
Ayame: I lied about the whole thing.

Ayame then opens the door and pushes Kushiro out into the hallway. She closes the door behind her leaving him in the hallway with Kamisori, who floats around him laughing hysterically at his face. The girls rest up for the night leaving Kushiro in the hall, as the blizzard outside calms down, covering the field around them with its icy frost.
The sun rises over the estate, slowly melting the snow away. The roses, grass, and other flowers sparkling with the morning dew and drips of snow. Hajji walks down the hallway to the girls’ room to awaken Ayame for her morning agenda. He knocks on the door as the girls grumble and moan, interrupted from their peaceful slumber.

Hajji: Ms. Ayame, it’s morning.
Ayame: Okay, be down in a minute.
Hajji: I took the liberty of washing your associates’ garments. They’re in the bathroom across the hall, two doors down.
Ayame: Okay.
Suzuki: Shut up, people are trying to sleep!
Hajji: [chuckles] Very well madam. Oh and Ayame, Emperor Kumori is expecting you in the courtyard outback for breakfast. . . . Hmm?

He then notices Kushiro still tied to a chair and dressed in make-up, sound asleep with his head against the wall. He helpfully unties him from the chair, then tries to awaken him while wiping some of the make-up off with a towel he was carrying.

Hajji: Mr. Kushiro, rise and shine.
Kushiro: [yawn] . . . . Hajji?
Hajji: Morning sir.
Kushiro: Morning already? Man.
Hajji: You can use the bathroom just ahead to wipe the rest of that make-up off.
Kushiro: Hmm?! . . . . Oh man, I can’t believe I slept with that mess on my face! Thanks Hajji.
Hajji: [chuckles] Anytime sir.

Ayame finally awakes as she puts on her clothes, a light pink shirt with a brown decorative twist design spiraling downward on both sides of the front, a brown skirt, and brown short heel shoes. After putting her clothing on, she casually walks through the halls of her home, remembering her fun days when she was a little girl with Hajji. Normally her father and mother was too industrious with the academy’s needs and other business matters of the family. She would wear her adorable dresses with diamond brooches, white long sleeve gloves, and bracelets. Running through the halls with her friends, laughing and getting into mischief like all children do. Then one after another they left her thanks to the freezing conditions of the north, leaving her by herself with no friends. She soon searched for attention from the butlers and maids, but instead of treating her like any other person would, she was given total respect without being treated like a normal person, never having much enjoyment with them. Until she met Hajji, he was more of a close friend and grandfather to her, and brought her plenty of laughter to her life. She felt that if it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have the courage or heart to attend Soul Academy to help others and make a better life.
She then appears in the courtyard, a beautiful garden sparkling from the morning dew greets her along with Kumori sitting at a white table with a well prepared breakfast in the middle of the slightly green field. The field was decorated with a white fenced grapevine, broken columns from previous remodeling, a forest in the back, and a series of bushes with blooming flowers.

Kumori: Morning my love.
Ayame: Morning.
Kumori: You look stunning my dear. Aren’t you cold in that skirt?
Ayame: Nope, Chiba blood. Remember?
Kumori: Right. Please, have a seat.

He stands and offers her a seat, pulling up her chair as she takes a seat. She takes a look at the food, then gazes at Kumori with his warm and loving smile. She smiles back not to offend him in any way, as she places a napkin over her lap.

Kumori: So, shall we get to know each other?
Ayame: I guess.
Kumori: Well, why don’t you start first. I want to know much about you my dear.
Ayame: . . . . There’s not that much about me.
Kumori: Hmm?
Ayame: I’m just a normal girl with a normal life.
Kumori: . . . . If it is something that feels like I’m forcing on you, you don’t have to force yourself to do it.
Ayame: No, you’re not forcing me. . . It’s just, I’m not comfortable . . . . With you yet.
Kumori: Is there some way I can make you feel better around me?
Ayame: . . . . As much as I hate to break it to you, I don’t feel too comfortable marrying you.
Kumori: I see.
Ayame: I’m sorry. Excuse me.
Kumori: Go ahead.

Ayame excuses herself and leaves him by himself in the courtyard to dine by himself. She then storm passes Kushiro and the others as he opens the door, shoving him by his shoulder as she then runs off. They then join Kumori outside as Suzuki takes Ayame’s plate and partakes of her meal.

Suzuki: Hi!
Kumori: [sighs] Morning.
Miwa: You seem bummed.
Kumori: Ayama doesn’t seem to take interest in me at all.
Suzuki: Well if you were in her shoes you’ll know why. The one thing about men is that they mature very late for a woman to enjoy their youthfulness.
Kushiro: An emperor immature? That’s something.
Kumori: I’m very mature for my age. I don’t understand what she’s going through.
Miwa: Well she’s being forced to marry a stranger.
Kumori: But I’m known throughout the lands of the Reikai World.
Miwa: You’re still considered a stranger. You’re taking more than just vows or her hand in marriage, you’re taking her life as a teenager away.
Kumori: She’s sixteen, at this age people should be prepared to become grown adults and put away childish buffoonery.
Miwa: Ayame is still young, she hasn’t had much of a childhood till she met us.
Kumori: Ayame?
Kushiro: I thought we were talking about Ayama.
Miwa: You’re about to marry her yet you don’t know her real name. Some husband you are.
Kushiro: Come on guys, let’s not get hasty.
Miwa: Stay out of this Kushiro.
Kumori: You can’t protect for long. She’s a growing young woman soon to blossom into a beautiful flower, to endure the harsh weathers called life.
Miwa: We’ll protect her because she is our friend, and if it means slugging you in the face and becoming an enemy to your people then so be it.
Suzuki: Uhhh . . . . Wow Miwa, I mean, back then you weren‘t so concerned with Ayame getting married.
Miwa: Is she your friend or not?
Suzuki: She is, but what you’re saying is, not the answer.
Kushiro: Yeah, every little problem you face can’t simply be solved with a swing from your fist.
Miwa: . . . . Fine, excuse me for sticking up to one of you guys for once.

She then walks away, not before punching Kushiro in the arm. Meanwhile, Ayame walks the snow covered outskirts of the estate, holding herself and slowly weeping. While wiping her tears away, a hand bursts from the snow and grabs her by the leg. She yelps and stumbles out of the grip, falling into the snow while trembling at the sight of a frozen man. Along with others who join it, scaring her even more with their terrifying moaning. The snow drips off their bodies soon revealing Yukio and the others, frozen stiff, shaking, and pale, possibly suffering from hypothermia.

Ayame: Mr. . . . Yamanaka, Dash, Hitomi, Ayano?
Yukio: Ayama . . . . T-t-t-t-t-take us to f-f-f-f-fi-I-ire.
Ayame: Oh my God! You’re suffering from hypothermia! Let’s get you all inside, quick!

After trudging through the snow, Ayame sits them inside her father’s study hall. Sparking a fire in the fireplace, then retrieved many blankets, wrapping them up as their body temperature slowly returns to normal.

Ayame: You guys okay? You need anything else?
Yukio: S-s-s-soup.
Dash: Smo-o-oke.
Ayano: Ayama dear, you wouldn’t h-h-h . . . [sneezes] happen to have a hairdresser would y-y-y-you?
Ayame: Don’t worry, one of the maids always did my hair, and she’s great.
Ayano: B-b-bless you dear.
Miwa: Mr. Yamanaka?
Yukio: Miwa, how are you guys doing?
Miwa: You guys look like a mess. What happened?
Ayame: They’re suffering from hypothermia.
Hitomi: Oh, and congrats . . . . On your wedding.
Ayame: I’m not getting married.
Ayano & Hitomi: What?!
Dash: Bad choice of words.
Ayano: We traveled from the academy to here, on foot, which is nearly about ten hundred thousand miles! You’re getting married even if it’s to a girl!
Miwa: You guys traveled ten hundred thousand miles on foot and made it here in two days?
Hitomi: We ran. Then the snow storm came and we had to huddle up for warmth.
Dash: What’s the matter?
Ayame: I’m just not comfortable with him. I don’t want to marry. . . . I can’t take it.
Hitomi: Well discuss it with your mother.
Ayame: I guess you’re right, I haven’t talked to her ever since I arrived. Miwa take care of them while I’m gone.
Miwa: I’ll try.
Yukio: [whining] Miwa . . . I want soup.
Miwa: Ugh.

Miwa then tends to the needs of Yukio and the others, as Ayame arrives to her parents’ master bedroom. She knocks on the door softly, as a low, weak, and dreadful voice answers her. She opens the door and takes a peek inside, the morning sun shining through the west window. Her mother laid motionless in bed in her crimson sheets and drapes over the bed. Slowly she approached her, with her heart thumping uncontrollably. Her adrenaline rushing through her as she takes a seat on the side of her bed. Her mother, which apparently looked thirty years old, was in a white night gown, blonde curly locks of hair and bangs like her daughter, her chestnut eyes bloodshot and watery from the lack of sleep and the sight of her lost daughter.

Ayame: Mother?
???: . . . . Ayame . . . My sweet baby you’re alive. [tries to get up]
Ayame: Mom please, don’t force yourself.
???: . . . . [finally sits up] I’ll use all my energy just to hold my baby girl once more. . . . Ugh.
Ayame: Mom!

Ayame catches her mother, as she rests her head back on the pillow to rest her tired body. With the condition she was in, telling her the wedding was off was the last thing to come to mind.

Ayame: Mom . . . How long have you’ve been sick?
???: . . . After a week or so when we found out you left. . . . How’s everything at the academy?
Ayame: You knew?
???: Getting . . Good grades?
Ayame: Yes mother.
???: [smiles] Just like a Chiba. . . . I’m proud of you . . . Ayame.
Ayame: Mother, can you tell me about the necklace you made Grandma Airi give me?
???: The necklace . . . . Is a priceless relic of the Chiba family. . . . Passed down to the first born daughter of the family. I was born first . . . And given the necklace from your grandmother, which is an important key to your life Ayame. Keep it with you always and never let it out of your sight. . . . With it, you will be able . . . To unlock the secrets of the family’s hidden treasure.
Ayame: Treasure?
???: The necklace was forged from . . . Its origin, . . . The Touketsu Stone; a stone that seeps a mist of spirit energy that cloaks the icy lands . . . And is the awakening process of the Chiba family’s powers. It was created by our great, great, ancestors, who created the north as you see before you. . . Sending demons to an icy grave, . . . And encoding the stone’s spirit force into our bloodline, thus making us immune to the frigid temperatures.
Ayame: So that’s why the cold doesn’t affect me that much. Here I thought it was because we lived up here for so long.
???: [smiles] Silly girl, you can’t expect your body to adopt to temperatures, it’s impossible.
Ayame: Yeah I guess.
???: The stone is the source of spirit energy you receive to perform The Northern Winds Slash. . . . Without it, our powers would become useless and the north will cease to be. . . The frozen icecaps in the icy seas will melt, and the entire Reikai World will be drowned into a sea of nothingness. . . . The necklace . . . Mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.
Ayame: Mom, I have enough problems as it is. Why the first born daughter? Why me?
???: . . . . It is because the first born daughter is of purity and wisdom. Man cannot be trusted with power. That’s why they have us to keep them in check.
Ayame: [holds her hand] Mom . . . . [sighs] I’m scared.
???: . . . . I don’t blame you. I was like that when I married your father and your grandmother gave me the necklace. . . But later you’ll come to love your husband and accept your duties as a female in the Chiba family.
Ayame: . . . But, I don’t love him. . . . . . . I’m in love with someone else.
???: [gasps]
Ayame: Mother forgive me, but I want to marry the one I want to marry, the one who makes me happy.
???: . . . . . Ayame.
Ayame: . . . [sobs] Don’t force me mom. . . . I don’t want to . . . . I’m just not ready for commitment. . . Not with someone I don’t know.
???: . . . Come here, rest your head dear.

Ayame climbs into bed with her, resting her heady along side with hers on the soft, silky pillows. She then embraces her mother, burying her head in the locks of her hair. Her mother slowly reaches with her other arm and holds her, trying to comfort her from her stress.

???: Ayame . . . . I don’t know what to say or do.
Ayame: . . . . Don’t make me marry him. . . . Don’t make me.

Ayame continues to release her sorrows, begging her mother not to let her marry, but her mother holds her ground. Ayame would have to marry Kumori, despite her or her friends intervention. Meanwhile, Miwa serves Yukio and the others, helping them bring their body temperature back to normal along with Hajji’s help. Kushiro and Suzuki soon join them, after mooching off of Ayame’s breakfast Kumori had prepared.

Suzuki: Mr. Yamanaka, and the others!
Hitomi: Hey sweetie.
Yukio: Hey Kushiro.
Kushiro: Nice for you to join us.
Ayano: Where’s Ayama?
Kushiro: Don’t know, she just stormed off after talking to Kumori.
Ayano: Emperor Kumori? My, Ayama must be very happy.
Suzuki: Nope, right now she’s confused and lost. She doesn’t want to marry him.
Hitomi: I’ll take him off her hands.
Dash: Well why doesn’t she tell them?
Hajji: Family matters I’m afraid. Once Master Vince makes up his mind it’s final, but there is a way.
Yukio: There is?
Suzuki: Spit it out already Jeeves!
Hajji: For this to work, Kushiro must be devoted to his part one hundred percent along the way.
Kushiro: What?
Hajji: . . .You must propose to her.
Kushiro: What?!
Dash: You’re kidding?
Hajji: It’s the only way I know. I know for a fact she doesn’t like him, and she seems to take a liking to you more than anyone I know of.
Suzuki: She did say she would rather be married to a friend than a stranger. So Kushiro why not?
Kushiro: Kunoichi.
Suzuki: Forget that skank, Ayame needs you the most!
Kushiro: You just don’t get it, do you?! It’s not that easy for me than it is for her!
Suzuki: But Ayame!
Kushiro: I’m back with Kunoichi and that’s that!
Suzuki: But Ayame likes you, I know she does!
Kushiro: Look, if I was single, maybe I would go out with her, but I’m not going to have a marriage in the afterlife and a relationship in the other!
Vince: Is something the matter?
Hajji: Master Vince.
Vince: Hajji, go retrieve Ayame and have her measured for her dress tonight.
Hajji: Yes sir. [leaves]
Vince: Who are you people?
Dash: Hi, we work for your mother-in-law.
Vince: Oh, you’re teachers at Soul Academy.
Hitomi: We were invited to her wedding. Hope you don’t mind us crashing here.
Vince: Not at all, as teachers of my daughter it’s the least I can do. Not to mention an honor for you, The Great Hero, to shine your presence at the ball and wedding.
Yukio: Aw, well you know.
Dash: You big suck up.
Vince: Now, what was with all the yelling I just heard?
Suzuki: Oh nothing, me and Kushi like to yell. [giggles]
Vince: Okay? . . . Well, you are all welcome to attend the ball tonight, but you must dress according to customs.
Miwa: Do I have to?
Suzuki: Yay, Miwa in a dress! I bet you look pretty in one.
Miwa: No, I don’t.
Suzuki: And Kushi can be our date.
Miwa: I’m hating my life more than ever.
Suzuki: Ooh, I bet Ayame would look lovely.

With hours left before the night ball, the butlers and maids take their measurements for their required attire. After hardworking hours of cooking and decorating, the anticipated ball arrives. People from Kumori’s empire and family came from across the lands for his grandiose celebration. Some family members from the Chiba family attended the celebration, as they all gather inside the ballroom. The gentle harmonics from the woodwinds guided the feet of those who danced the night away. Many chandeliers hung overhead, azure drapes hang from the towering windows, and a table with a bountiful feast with an ice sculpture of a majestic swan spreading its wings. Kushiro arrives with Suzuki and Miwa in his arms, as they walk within the swaying waves of dancers. Suzuki, dressed in a baby blue dress with shoulder puffs, matching gloves and shoes, her hair let down, and with a lovely pair of earrings. Miwa, shockingly stunning in her amethyst backless dress, diamond bracelet, matching high heel shoes, earrings, a necklace with a violet gemstone placed within, and her hair, let down as it hangs over her shoulders and down her back. While Kushiro was dressed in a classic tuxedo with a black bow tie, cufflinks, and shoes. Miwa takes her arm away from Kushiro as she returns to her original sluggish stance with her arms folded.

Suzuki: See, it’s not so bad Miwa.
Kushiro: Yeah, you actually pass as a girl for once.
Miwa: You miraculously survived your last beating, I’ll make sure you die next time.
Kushiro: [gulps]
Suzuki: Behave Miwa, this is Ayame’s big party, so let’s not blow it!
Kushiro: Too bad Yukio and the others couldn’t make it.
Suzuki: Who knows. Maybe they’ll be ready when Ayame gets married. I wonder where Ayame is.
Hajji: Ah, Ayame’s friends. Welcome, I hope you all taken a liking to your new outfits.
Suzuki: I love it. You made Miwa look like a real princess.
Miwa: [mumbles] Shut up Suzuki.
Hajji: You’re probably wondering where Ayame is. She’s up front on the rostrum with Emperor Kumori but you’re not allowed to see her yet.
Suzuki: Aw poo.
Miwa: I’m taking a seat.
Suzuki: Oh no you’re not. You are going to dance and you‘re going to like it.
Kushiro: Come on Miwa, stop being a sourpuss.
Miwa: . . . . . [walks away]
Kushiro: Geez, I will never figure her out.
Suzuki: Oh well. Come on Kushiro, sweep me away into the night.
Kushiro: Okay, just stop pulling on me.

Suzuki and Kushiro blend into the crowd of dancing couples, waltzing with the others in a beautiful display of dresses caressing in succession. Ayame sits upon the rostrum in a royal furnished chair next to Kumori. Dressed in a light pink dress, her ponytail undone, letting her long blonde hair rain down to her waist, pink high heels, her mother’s necklace, and sapphire bracelets with her pink nails. She sat there slightly unhappy, playing with her fingers and watching the others dance with their true loved ones.

Kumori: Such a wonderful reception. Our families and friends seem to be enjoying themselves.
Ayame: Yeah. . . Great time.
Kumori: What’s wrong Ayame?
Ayame: How did you know my real name?
Kumori: I will be your husband after all.
Ayame: . . . . I guess.
Kumori: You shouldn’t be afraid Ayame. Your mother would be proud.
Ayame: . . . Yeah.

She grips her necklace, feeling the cool zephyr flowing through her fingers. Miwa sits against the wall, watching others enjoying themselves as she plans to sulk through the rest of the night. A couple of young handsome men approach her and asks for a dance, but she sends a cold chill down their spine with her bitter look. She then walks away and heads for the buffet for a drink of punch, leaving the youthful men baffled by her actions. As Miwa pours herself a glass from the ladle, she finds Yukio and Dash stuffing their faces with ore‘durvs.

Miwa: What are you two doing here?
Yukio: Look, when there’s free food, I’m there.
Dash: Yeah, some nerve leaving four of your closest teachers in a dark, gloomy, mansion with no food or water. Cursed to walk the sinister halls of many doorways to life or death.
Miwa: What about Ayano and Hitomi?
Dash: They can get their own food. By the way, why aren’t you dancing?
Miwa: I don’t dance.
Dash: [swallows] Liar.
Miwa: It’s nothing really.
Yukio: [swallows] Miwa, you’re a young girl. Don’t you want to look back on your life and remember all the good memories you had?
Miwa: Looking back into the past is meaningless.
Dash: [sighs] You’re hopeless.
Miwa: Look, if I don’t want to dance then I don’t want to dance. You can’t make me.
Hitomi: It’s not really okay sweetie.
Yukio: What are you two doing here?!
Ayano: Waiting for you two with the food. Miwa why aren’t you dancing?
Miwa: Just drop it will you?
Hitomi: Miwa, you’re a young girl, you should enjoy life while you can. When you think about it you’ll only end up regretting not having such a great time.
Miwa: [silent]
Yukio: She’s right Miwa, in your condition, you should make the best of it.
Miwa: . . . . . . . . . Excuse me.
Hitomi: Aww, what I would give to be young again. As for you two pigs, when were you going to return back to the mansion with food?
Dash: After I had my fill and took a dump for hours.
Ayano: You’re . . . so atrocious!
Dash: You didn’t say that to me that one time. Remember? [grins]
Ayano: Dashu, you are dead to me.

Miwa walks into the wave of dancers in search of Kushiro and Suzuki, as she inelegantly dances on the floor, crushing his toes with the tip of her heels.

Kushiro: Suzuki, watch where you‘re stepping.
Suzuki: Sorry, it’s these darn heels. I’m not use to them.
Miwa: Hi guys.
Suzuki: Having a great time grumpy?
Miwa: . . . . . Kushiro, can I dance with you?
Kushiro: Me?
Miwa: Well?
Kushiro: Suzuki?
Suzuki: Go ahead, my feet hurt.
Kushiro: No kidding.
Miwa: Thanks.
Kushiro: Wow Miwa, maybe you’re finally coming out of your shell.
Miwa: Don’t get your hopes up. I still don’t like to be touched.
Kushiro: Then how are we supposed to dance?

Miwa then grabs his left hand and places his right around her waist bringing him closer to her.

Miwa: Keep your hands on my waist and no lower or higher, we dance eye to eye, if I catch you looking down I’ll break you in half.
Kushiro: Well it’s better than nothing I guess.

With Kushiro’s life on the line, he bravely dances with Miwa. One bad move that makes her feel awkward and it’s over. Soon they stay on queue with the other dancers, swaying on the night floor.

Kushiro: You’re not so bad.
Miwa: You too.
Kushiro: Man, Suzuki sure can put murder on someone’s feet.
Miwa: You want to sit?
Kushiro: No, I’m fine. I don’t want you to be by yourself again.
Miwa: What do you mean?
Kushiro: I mean, you know, . . . Not being able to dance with the other guys? Not that you’re ugly or anything, guys would kill to be with you!
Miwa: . . . I really don’t like boys.
Kushiro: Why?

Then in discomfort, she turns her head away from him, trying to suppress the grueling nightmares of her past. Try as she might, but her memories of her horrendous past flickered in her mind as she takes his hand away from her waist and on her shoulder.

Kushiro: What’s wrong? I didn’t touch you in anyway did I?
Miwa: . . . Yes.
Kushiro: I’m sorry.
Miwa: Don’t be, it’s not your fault, it’s mine.
Kushiro: [thinking] Why is she so jumpy when someone touches her? . . . Unless.
Miwa: I wonder how Amelia is doing now.
Kushiro: Why should you care, I thought you hated her?
Miwa: I do, but it’s amazing how you of all people could bring her from such sorrow, and give her hope. At the military, there are cases of suicide pertaining to your same problem.
Kushiro: Well, I tend to have that affect on people.
Miwa: [thinking] I don’t think even you could help me. . . Nothing can heal this scar.
Kushiro: . . . That’s a nice perfume you’re wearing.
Miwa: Thanks, I guess. It’s not mine.
Kushiro: Yeah, but it matches you quite nicely.
Miwa: Excuse me?
Kushiro: Please don’t hit me.
Miwa: No, it’s just that I have never been complimented like that. You really think it suits me?
Kushiro: Yeah.
Miwa: I never was into the whole girl thing. I find it pointless well, because, you know.
Kushiro: Oh. Maybe you should, most guys don’t find the smell of mixed sweat and dirt appealing.
Miwa: [eyebrow twitching while growling]
Kushiro: Oops.
Kumori: Ayame, would you like to dance?
Ayame: I guess.

Kumori then takes Ayame’s hand and escorts her to the center of the ballroom. Everyone spreads out forming a circle, giving them the center of attention as they danced to the music. Their eyes meet for a minute, but she directs her attention slightly away from his eyes. She then spots Miwa and Kushiro in the crowd as he smiles brightly at her. She soon stops dancing and excuses herself from Kumori, running over to Kushiro and Miwa with everyone questioning her decision.

Ayame: Kushiro, may I have this dance?
Kushiro: Miwa?
Miwa: I’m through with you, you can have him Ayame.
Kushiro: Gee thanks.
Ayame: Well come on.

She then grabs Kushiro’s hand and leads him out into the center of the room. They hold each other and join their hand together, dancing with another of his friends. Kumori stands there watching them, feeling as if he really didn’t matter to her. If he was to somehow end up in some unfortunate accident, she wouldn’t care of his well being. He saw that she had more interest in others than him, and felt neglected by his fiancé. Kushiro and Ayame gazed into each others’ eyes, slowly being mesmerized by the soft music. Their gentle touch, the delightful scent they both emanate, starts to ignite a sudden feeling overflowing them. Ayame soon loses herself within his attractive gaze, wishing for the dance to never end.

Ayame: [thinking] . . . Kushiro
Kushiro: You okay?
Ayame: . . . I’m fine . . . With you.
Kushiro: Hmm?
Ayame: Kushiro I’m so stressed. All this talk about marriage is getting on my last nerve.
Kushiro: Well you still have a choice Ayame.
Ayame: It’s not as easy as it seems. What would you do?
Kushiro: Honestly I can’t say. I’m kind of lost myself.
Ayame: . . . . I’d rather be married to a friend than to a stranger.
Kushiro: Uh?

Soon the music comes to its finale, as the people applaud their performance. They soon stop dancing as she continues to gaze into his eyes. Then a bright smile appears on her face, feeling giddy as she held his hands. They walk over to where Miwa and Suzuki were sitting and then takes a seat with them.

Kushiro: [thinking] What is she smiling about? A few minutes ago she was depressed as Miwa, now . . . She’s just so cheerful.
Suzuki: Wow Ayame, you look wonderful.
Ayame: You two don’t look so bad yourself. I wish I had a dress like yours Miwa.
Miwa: Isn’t this yours?
Ayame: Well not really. See most of the maids tailor my clothes for me, so I really don’t have to go shopping for any.
Suzuki: You’re so lucky to be rich. Most people would kill for your life Ayame.
Ayame: Well they can have it for free if they want, I just want to live a normal life like any other person.

Vince then walks up to Kumori, offering him a glass of champagne. He kindly accepts his offer and takes a sip while watching Ayame, happily with her friends.

Vince: She’s my pride and joy. Not one day passes by without her and her mother in my mind.
Kumori: It must be a wonderful feeling sir.
Vince: Indeed it is.
Kumori: Tell me sir, when you were about to marry your wife, did she ever feel, uncomfortable with you?
Vince: Well at some point we almost didn’t marry. She was a wild one back then, like all Chiba women.
Kumori: So you took on their name.
Vince: That’s right. Even in marriage they take over, but that‘s from every woman, right? [chuckles]
Kumori: Yeah.
Vince: Hmm, what’s wrong?
Kumori: . . . Your daughter doesn’t seem too happy with me sir. I feel like I’m causing her more pain, then giving her the joy and happiness she deserves. A husband is supposed to bring his wife great bliss, along with friends, but, I feel like I’m below them.
Vince: . . . They’re nothing more than just penniless associates, trying to mooch off my daughter’s investments. Those who are deprived of wealth, tend to seek swift ways to obtain it.
Kumori: It’s hard to find love, when you’re too successful and money is not a problem.
Vince: But I’ll ensure you, my daughter will take a liking to you.
Kumori: . . . I hope so.
Ayame: Kushiro, can I talk to you? . . . . Alone?
Kushiro: Sure.
Suzuki: Remember Kushi, she’s off limits.

She then guides him to the outside balcony, which displayed a lovely view of the snowy field and icy lake. Again the night sky was filled with stars, drawing her attention as she gazes at its beauty.

Ayame: The stars are so lovely tonight.
Kushiro: Tell me about it, I never seen so many.
Ayame: . . . . Oh, I don’t see it out here tonight.
Kushiro: See what?
Ayame: An aurora. Hajji and I use to watch it all the time here when I was little. I would stand here all night until I fell asleep, and he would carry me to bed, but I guess it’s not here.
Kushiro: So what did you want to talk about?

A long and peaceful silence rains over them, as he waits for her response. She then turns around, resting her hands on his shoulders and her head on his chest. Kushiro slowly rises his arms, and gently wraps them around her. She then sighs to his embracement and warmth, smiling cheerfully in his arms.

Kushiro: Ayame?
Ayame: . . . I know that you’re still in love with Kunoichi, and I’m sorry for asking. . .
Kushiro: What are you saying?
Ayame: . . . I want you to save me, . . . I want you to marry me.
Kushiro: Huh?!
Ayame: I shouldn’t have asked.
Kushiro: Ayame, I can’t marry you. I’m in love with someone else.
Ayame: I’m not asking you to love me. I’m asking you to save me. . . . I can’t find love.
Kushiro: Yes you can. You just have to give it time.
Ayame: I can’t wait anymore. Soon my life will be in the hands of a man I have no feelings for.
Kushiro: Ayame.
Ayame: Just save me Kushiro. That’s all I’m asking. After the wedding we can still be friends, and you can still be with Kunoichi.
Kushiro: I can’t do that.
Ayame: . . . . Do I mean anything to you?
Kushiro: You do, but what you’re asking of me is impossible! I can’t!
Ayame: . . . . [sobs] I can’t go on.
Kushiro: Then say no. Even if it means losing your powers and your family name.
Ayame: I can’t. . . . My family means everything to me, if I lose my powers then I won’t be able to fulfill my dreams. My dreams will never come true, people will continue to live in fear.
Kushiro: But you’ll have what you always want, your one true love.
Ayame: . . . . Either way I go, I’ll lose what I hoped for.

To marry means to take away her one true love, as not to marry means to lose her powers and her dignity . . . Her dreams. Ayame slowly steps back out of Kushiro’s arms, as she leans against the railing of the balcony. At first it seemed like she was lifting herself up to sit on the railing, but she intended to end her life. Kushiro runs to her as she starts to fall over, catching her as she still sits on the edge. He then pulls her back with great force, scared yet angry at her, and squeezing her wrist tightly. She stares into his broaden eyes, scared by his intimidating eyes and powerful grip.

Kushiro: Are you crazy?! Ayame you have a lot more sense than trying to kill yourself! Snap out of it!
Ayame: You’re hurting me.
Kushiro: You’re hurting me as well!
Ayame: . . .Please let go. . . Stop.
Kushiro: . . . . . [lets go] I’m sorry.

She then runs off, passing the others hoping for them not to see her watery eyes. Kushiro then steps inside as the entire crowd looks at him with curiosity. Vince then charges towards him and violently shakes Kushiro with rage.

Vince: What did you do to my daughter?!
Kushiro: Hey, it’s your fault that she’s like this!
Yukio: Sir, put him down!
Dash: Yeah, it’s not like he knocked her up or something.
Ayano: You’re not helping!
Vince: You stay away from my daughter!

He then drops Kushiro and storms after her, leaving everyone there in question.

Suzuki: Kushi what did you do this time?!
Kushiro: She was trying to kill herself.
Suzuki: What?!
Ayano: Is she okay?
Kushiro: I’m not sure.
Dash: What happened?
Kushiro: She wants me to marry her.
Hitomi: You serious?
Miwa: Why would she say that?
Kushiro: She told me she would rather be married to me than Kumori, because he’s a stranger to her.
Kumori: [gasps] . . . She’s filled with grief because of me.
Kushiro: I’m afraid so.
Miwa: Then don’t marry her.
Kumori: I can’t, if I don’t I will suffer the same fate as well. For me to continue to reign as emperor I must marry.
Suzuki: This doesn’t make any sense! This is supposed to be a glorious night of pure bliss!
Kumori: But she never took the time to know me. . . . Where is she?
Dash: I think you should wait for her to calm down.
Ayano: No, you should go to her.
Suzuki: Why?
Ayano: She needs you, even if she doesn’t know you that well, you must let her know you’re someone she can go to for comfort.
Kumori: You’re right. I’ll be back. I’m sorry for the interruption everyone, please resume enjoying the banquet.
Kushiro: Why did you insist?
Ayano: Sometimes the best gift isn’t wrapped in pretty paper. Who knows, maybe he is the one for her.

Kumori then runs off to find Ayame, which is currently locked within her room where her father tries to persuade her to come out. She sits inside, burying her face in the pillows, crying in such sorrow she never felt before.

Vince: Ayame! Open this door!
Ayame: Stay away!
Vince: Ayame.
Kumori: Sir.
Vince: She won’t come out of her room. darn that boy.
Kumori: It’s not his fault sir, be thankful he was there to save her. . . . Ayame. Ayame please answer.
Ayame: Stay away from me. . . . I don’t want to marry just someone, I want to marry the one I love.
Kumori: Ayame, open the door so we can talk.
Ayame: . . . . I won’t. . . you’re only marrying me because you’re in the same predicament as I am. . . We’re being forced onto each other. You don’t love me, just admit it!
Kumori: I do love you Ayame. Not because my reign a