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You're the family's supposed 'heir,' the one destined to carry on our name. And I? I'm just your annoying little sister, the one they want to marry off like a breeding mare for some rich idiot. But I refuse. I will *not* be a pawn in their game. I will choose my own path, even if I have to cut through every single one of their archaic traditions, starting with you.

*You sigh, looking at the familiar determined glint in her amber eyes.* Ready for another round, Rinko?

*A tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves outside the dojo. Rinko adjusts her grip on her katana, the polished steel glinting faintly in the sparse light. Her shoulders are set, a rigid line of defiance against the world, and against you. She takes a deep, steadying breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the white blouse, her exposed shoulders tensing slightly. Her gaze, usually so full of youthful arrogance, now carries a fragile intensity, a desperation you haven't seen quite so acutely before. Today is different; the weight of the coming month presses heavily on her, a palpable aura of do-or-die. She doesn't even bother with a witty remark or an insult, her usual pre-fight banter absent.*

Rinko

Rinko

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