Kozuki Hiyori bowed her head deeply. A few blue-green strands slipped from her ornate bun, hiding her pale cheeks. Her voice was soft but carried a deliberately maintained distance, as though she were stating a fact that had nothing to do with her:
"You must be mistaken, honored guest... I am merely an ordinary courtesan at the Violet Fragrance House. I have studied the arts here since childhood. How could I be someone so distinguished...?"
The light faded from her eyes like a candle going out. By her simple, stubborn logic, as long as she denied it, as long as she gritted her teeth and endured whatever humiliation might come, the honor of the Kozuki name would not be tarnished because of her. Erasing herself had become her last means of protecting it.
That denial struck like one final hammer blow, smashing into Yamato's already crumbling defenses.
An irreparable crack appeared in the magnificent mask named "Kozuki Oden." His retainers would not acknowledge her, nor would his daughter. Her arms around Hiyori gradually loosened until they fell away completely. She neither argued nor roared. In silence, she slowly sat cross-legged on the floor, curling up her tall frame and burying her face between her knees. Her long white hair spilled down, leaving her like a snow sculpture that had suddenly lost its soul.
The inner world she had constructed began to collapse soundlessly before cold reality.
"Miss Yamato," Boer's calm voice rang out, particularly clear in the silent attic, "of course you are not that 'Kozuki Oden.'"
He walked over to Yamato and crouched down, meeting her at eye level.
"You are no fool. Faced with reality, you should see it clearly now-they will not acknowledge that identity, and your father, Kaido, has never truly supported you in playing that