December 25th, 2020
Fushimiya Mansion — Christmas Morning
Narrated by Kei Fushimiya (Present Day)
Memory is a strange thing.
People like to believe memories fade because time erodes them.
That's wrong.
The memories that truly matter never disappear. They simply rot quietly beneath the surface until something drags them back up again.
As wooden swords clashed in the present, my mind drifted backward.
Back to the beginning.
Back to the first time I realized my family was never normal.
---
The Fushimiya mansion was overflowing with artificial warmth.
Golden lights decorated the ceilings. Expensive ornaments lined the walls. Maids walked through the halls carrying trays of food while pretending exhaustion didn't exist. Every corner of the mansion screamed wealth.
Yet despite all that light, the house always felt cold to me.
I was nine years old.
And I remember being asleep when my bedroom door suddenly swung open.
"Wake up."
A familiar voice.
I slowly opened my eyes to see my older brother standing over me.
Aoi Fushimiya
Aoi was thirteen at the time. Even back then, he already carried himself differently from everyone else. Calm posture. Calm voice. Calm eyes.
Too calm.
"It's Christmas breakfast," he said flatly. "Come downstairs before father gets irritated."
I rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly.
"I'm tired…"
"That sounds like a personal problem."
Typical Aoi.
I remember pouting before reluctantly getting out of bed.
---
The dining hall looked more like a luxury hotel than a home.
Father sat at the far end of the table speaking on the phone in a language neither Aoi nor I understood. His tone was cold and businesslike, completely detached from the idea that it was Christmas morning.
I don't remember mother being there.
Truthfully, I barely remember her being around at all.
Aoi ate quietly while I stared at father from across the table, hoping he would acknowledge us for more than a few seconds.
He didn't.
Not once.
A few hours later, several expensive cars entered the mansion courtyard.
That part stood out to me immediately.
Even as a child, I could tell those vehicles belonged to important people.
Aoi and I were told to return upstairs while father handled "adult matters."
Normally, I would've listened.
But curiosity is dangerous when you're a child.
Especially in the Fushimiya family.
---
As I quietly crept downstairs, I noticed something strange.
Most of the guests weren't Japanese.
Different accents. Different languages. Different appearances.
Yet despite their differences, they all shared one thing in common.
Fear.
They were afraid of my father.
I hid behind the corner near the staircase and listened carefully.
"We can't continue gathering research right now, Mr. Fushimiya," one man said nervously. "With this coronavirus outbreak, further collection becomes extremely risky."
Coronavirus.
Back then, the world was beginning to panic.
Hospitals were overcrowded. Borders tightened. People feared each other.
Father simply sighed.
"That is irrelevant," he replied coldly. "Humanity only evolves through pressure. If this project succeeds, society could advance decades ahead of schedule."
Another man stepped forward immediately afterward.
Tall. Foreign. Blond hair.
Even now, I still remember the sharp hostility in his eyes.
Paul
"Do you understand the risk you're putting us in?" Paul snapped. "If you wish to get infected, then do it alone. Don't drag the rest of us into your madness."
Father slowly looked at him.
That look alone silenced the room.
"Oh please," father said quietly. "You speak as if any of you possess free will."
The room became completely silent.
"You are all pawns," he continued. "The moment you joined this project, your so-called freedom ceased to exist. If free will can be taken away so easily… then perhaps it never existed to begin with."
At nine years old, I didn't fully understand those words.
But they stayed with me.
Years later, I realized something terrifying.
Those weren't merely father's beliefs.
They became mine.
---
A woman near the table spoke next.
"But some participants have already become infected," she said cautiously. "Several are hospitalized."
Father smiled faintly.
"Fortunately, we already possess a suitable asset."
Asset.
Not person.
Asset.
"There is a medical student currently overseeing treatment for certain individuals involved with this project," father explained. "He's only twenty years old, yet his skills already surpass most licensed professionals."
I remember father chuckling slightly.
"His morality makes him useful. People who desperately wish to save others are always the easiest to manipulate."
At the time, I didn't understand what he meant.
Now I do.
People who cling to morality can always be cornered by it.
---
Then father said something else.
Something that would unknowingly shape my future.
"I've already begun preparations," he said. "There is an elite institution we intend to acquire within the next few years. Once the current leadership is removed, my business partner will take control."
Business partner.
Even now, remembering those words irritates me.
At the time, I had no idea who he was referring to.
Nor did I know the school he mentioned would eventually become the stage where my life would begin collapsing piece by piece.
One of the guests finally asked:
"What school are you referring to?"
Father opened his mouth to answer—
Then someone noticed me.
"Who's there?"
Everything froze.
Father slowly turned his head.
And our eyes met.
Even now, I still remember the expression on his face.
Not shock.
Not disappointment.
Anger.
Pure anger.
"How much did you hear?" he asked.
I couldn't answer.
Father stepped toward me.
"I asked you a question."
His voice became sharper.
"HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?"
The entire room became tense.
Even the adults looked uncomfortable.
One of the maids hurried forward nervously.
"Please allow me to return him to his room, sir."
Father stared at me for several seconds before finally speaking.
"…Fine."
I ran upstairs immediately.
Not because I was scared of punishment.
But because for the first time in my life…
I genuinely feared my father.
---
The maid locked my bedroom door from the outside.
As if I were some dangerous animal.
I sat near the window quietly staring outside at the expensive cars below, wondering what kind of meeting I had interrupted.
Then came another knock.
The door opened.
Aoi entered calmly before closing it behind him.
He looked at me silently for a few moments.
Then he sighed.
"Why would you do something so reckless?" he asked. "You know father hates it when we interfere."
I looked away.
"But why is father like that?" I asked quietly. "Mother's barely around… and he…"
I hesitated.
"He's supposed to care about us, right?"
Aoi stared at me for a long time after I said that.
Then he asked something I still remember perfectly.
"Can you name a single time father told you he loved you?"
I stayed silent.
Because I couldn't.
Aoi continued speaking.
"Father doesn't see people the same way normal humans do, Kei."
His voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"He evaluates them. Measures them. Uses them."
Aoi walked toward the window beside me.
"One day you'll understand something important."
His reflection stared back at me through the glass.
"In this family, affection only exists when someone becomes useful."
I remember clenching my fists after hearing that.
Back then, I wanted to reject his words.
I wanted to believe he was wrong.
But years later…
I realized Aoi had understood our family long before I ever did.
And that terrified me more than father himself.