Chapter Text
There was no way he could court anyone, let alone a woman. However, it wasn’t his say. It’s never been his say and never will be his say. I, Lev Haiba, was born into a rich socialite family. Raised to be polite, proper, and respected. Expected to one day marry and continue to build my wealth- and I hate it. I was bred to uphold the family name and their place in society as my elder sister already married off. Forced to make and maintain connections to fulfill my parent’s sycophant tendencies. It isn’t like me at all. The me in my soul that is. My soul cries to be set free and live how I want and love who I want. Ways to correct my awkwardness and clumsiness have been taught to me by force. Leaving me to be a shell of a man. It’s a perfect shell and is everything I’m supposed to be, but my heart is trapped. It’s backed into a corner and looking for ways to break out but to no avail.
“Lev! Are you ready yet? You are taking entirely too long and you know a man must never keep anyone waiting. What will our guests think?” my mother called from outside my door, her voice with an unnatural chipperness but with hints of sternness. I can imagine her now, wearing one of her indoor dresses, presumably the dark blue one with the light shawl, and a forced smile plastered across her face.
Making her way into my room with an anxious speed she drops her smile. Something that rarely happens and only uses to show her disappointment. I’ve seen it many times in my life, yet the hold it has over me is immeasurable and unwavering.
Making her way into my room with an anxious speed she drops her smile. Something that rarely happens and only uses to show her disappointment. I’ve seen it many times in my life, yet the hold it has over me is immeasurable and unwavering.
“You’re not even dressed or washed up! The party will be here in less than two hours from Lord Kozume’s mansion and they will not wait for you!” she pushes the washing basin and a rag towards me, and I start washing my face immediately. If I don’t do so she’ll do it herself and leave my skin red and raw.
My mother goes on to talk about the guests and the plans for the high-society party. They usually last for days to weeks. It’s exhausting, but maintaining connections is important. Losing our place in society is not an option. My mother is a nice enough woman. The stress of wealth is starting to crease her face, but she’s still handsome. Her long white hair with curled ringlets framing her face, her bright green eyes, and small lips always in a smile no matter what she’s actually feeling. She’s quite tall for a lady but not big. Her mind is educated and watchful. She has made it her top priority to make her family respectful, leading her to be authoritarian in her teachings. Growing up I would often be locked into a room to think about what I did. I would only be visited by a nursemaid to be brought food. As the ignorance of childhood started to leave my locking away decreased.
“...which is who we expect you to marry,” my mother says, snapping me back to what she has to say.
“I apologize, the water got into my ears and clogged them. Repeat what you said, if you would please,” I hold my eye contact with her so she does not realize my lie.
“You better make sure your ears are unclogged by the time the company arrives. As I said Lord and Lady Kuroo are attending the party with their daughter, which is who we expect you to marry. She is highly educated and handsome. Much smaller than you, but of even proportion. Your father has spoken to Mr. Kuroo and he has agreed to the arrangement, and we will not let him down. During the duration of the party, you are to court her and have wedding preparations ready as soon as possible. Can you manage that?”
“I’ll do my best Mother. I won’t let you or Father’s hard work go to waste. Now if you’ll excuse yourself, I need to be getting dressed,” and with that, my mother turns on her heel and goes back to fretting over the residence and the party. Father sent her here earlier to make sure everything is in order, while he continued to mingle at the Kozume estate.
I never saw my father much growing up due to him being away on business for weeks on end. He’s more kind and more gentle than my mother but has ever-escalating expectations for me, much higher than my mother’s. I got my height from him and that is about it. Not many similarities in looks or personality, well my true personality.
Slipping on my vest, I unlatch my chamber door and I’m met with maids scuttering about and the sound of the commanding boom of my mother’s voice, reverberating around the manor’s walls. I’ve never known this place to be dirty and today is no exception. Carpets are being carried in from being left to dry outside, silverware is being cleaned and polished, and furniture is being rearranged.
Lev, come here!” my mother waves her hand towards herself to beckon me to her.
“Can you keep an eye on Miss Yachi? She’s still new and prone to messing up, so I need you to fix her mistakes,” she tells me in a hushed voice.
I track down Miss Yachi and find her in the parlor, struggling, due to her childlike stature, to beat the dirt from the curtains.
“Here let me assist you,” she gives me a thankful nod as I walk over and get the parts she can’t reach, glad to be doing something other than standing or listening to my mother order people around.
After what feels like my entire lifetime, the sound of horse hooves and carriage wheels is approaching the estate. One by one the partygoers step out, stiff from the ride but still chatting gayly. Not sparing anyone else a glance, they file inside and continue the party, basking in the new environment. Not ready to converse with Lord Kuroo, I look for any other familiar face.
“Ah! It’s good to see you Mr. Kozume, is the young Mr. Kozume in attendance?” my eyes still looking around the room.
“Good evening Mr. Haiba. And no, Kenma fell ill and is staying at the manor with the young Mr. Kuroo. He insisted on staying with Kenma, but may come by in a few days.”
I thanked him, disappointed in the fact I had no friends here but continued to chat with him. He was telling me about a new money-making strategy his son came up with, but did not disclose too many details. The elder Mr. Kozume excused himself, leaving me alone and in search of another conversationalist. Looking around the room, there was no one else remotely around my age besides Miss Kuroo. Now I understand. This was exactly my parent's plan, the only chance I have to get her to fall in love with me. Even if it doesn’t happen (us falling in love), the wedding would have to happen. It’s our parents' will and it is absolute.
The shell of me my parents built should have no problem with getting her to fall in love with me, but my true spirit isn’t so confident. I (the real me) cannot fall for her. It’s impossible. My heart is open, but not to her. It’s closed off for every lady, young and old. When I told this to my parents they were not pleased. It was the worst punishment I had ever received. As a result, I stopped telling them the truth. But, my heart still yearns for someone, someone like me, someone of the same sex. I want to love and be loved, but not all wants can become realities.
So, I make my way over to Miss Kuroo. She dresses elegantly enough to make up for what she lacks in natural appearance. I don’t know when it happened, but our conversation guided us outside and into the orchard. And before I closed the door, my father looked my way and winked.
We walked down the stone path. Trees, flowers, and birds are on either side of us. The cold dusk air is blowing past us and the birds have quit their songs. She stops next to the buttercups and yellow carnations. To an outside eye, this would look romantic, the flowers possibly meaning a blooming relationship, but that is not the case. Miss Kuroo turns to me. I don’t think either of us have actually looked at each other during our whole conversation, just looking ahead and around.
“I know our parent's plan. The one to get us wed.”
“Oh?”
“Do not misunderstand me or be hurt. Just listen to what I have to say,” I nod and she continues.
“What our parents want has to happen. We both know we cannot oppose them. Yet, I cannot give my heart to you. You are handsome and possess a great deal of charm. But, I only agreed to marry you for your family’s wealth and connections, that is what I truly am after, not your heart. You would not be a good husband. I would bore of you fast. Your mind and conversations would not stimulate me long, and as much as you conceal it I can tell you are clumsy, and I don’t want to spend my days taking care of you. This is for my family and nothing more.”
I could never fall for her either, but to be so honest about the situation and about me was a great deal to endure. So all I could do was agree.
“For my family and nothing more,” as much as she deserved it, I wouldn’t be honest about my opinions of her to her or to anyone. I cannot risk us quarreling past redemption when so much weighs on us.