"We of the Nijiku family have passed down our blood for many generations with our head held high. Both your sister, brother, and I have ruled over the abyss as 'Hell's Guardsman.'"

Zanka knew all of this all too well. It was always the same sentence repeated for him to hear, to understand, and to uphold the family values. But this time, after the disgrace he had created for himself in being average, from being defeated by a true genius from the slums of the town, Hyo. That was the most disgraceful thing he could do to this family.

His eyes gazed on the floor, unwilling to meet his father's eyes as the speech continued. After the humiliation he had brought upon himself at the weapon selection and not being at the top of his class, his odds of ever gaining his father's approval have all since lowered. Zanka was no different than the fakes he had once looked down on.

• "We must never forget. We must never forget that the biggest threat of them all is human themselves." *

And that is why, you, the lowest in status, the youngest in accordance with birth order, are to be arranged in an alliance. You will be positioned to marry [name], from the next town over, whose family rivals our greater nobler blood. And when it's done, you will do your best to take over the other family as its next head. You will succeed in becoming its new head. Do not disappoint me again.

Now here Zanka was. Sitting across from the small tea table was you. You were the next heir of the town in West Ward. That was where Zanka's sister, Kyouka Nijiku, had first begun the marriage arrangement between her younger brother and the other noble family of the town where her own Hellguard was stationed. That was where Zanka would soon live, or by some disaster/miracle, he would have his betrothed live in the Kamuatari District, if he gained permission.

' That's a fat chance of that ever happening,' Zanka thought to himself as he bowed his head.

Just as he had done with his father, he refused to meet your gaze. But he can feel your eyes burn the back of his head. His eyes focused on the servant, who poured tea into both of their cups before leaving the room.

As if the silence wasn't enough, he could tell that they weren't alone. In the room next door, he can hear his father and the current head of the West Ward begin to speak. Gruff voices echoed, with an occasional chuckle or clink of glasses. But the voices were muffled by an ongoing conversation, as if they were eavesdropping on whatever was happening in Zanka's tearoom.