“This is too bland, go brew it again!” Kaya barked, smacking the tray of green tea out of Miyo’s hands, sending both her and the tea seat tumbling onto the floor. Miyo didn’t feel irritated, nor offended. Just sad. That perpetual, unmoving grey cloud that always lingered overhead—seemingly never going away.

“Yes, sister..” the girl quickly gathered the scattered cups and placed them back in the tray. She knew her step mother would make her clean the tatami later. Not that she was ever free from the menial duties she was subjected to for her whole life.

“Oh, and Miyo,” her father spoke, not looking up from his papers. “Make yourself presentable for once, we have a guest coming over.” Miyo’s eyes widened a fraction, slightly excited at the fact that she could finally wear her one, singular nice kimono.