Suzume learned another harsh lesson- keeping her vow wasn't easy.

Ever since the passing of her mother and grandmother, her father put a tighter lock on her life. She was never allowed to go out without an escort or at least one maid, she could never hang outside after dark- not that she wanted to that badly in all honesty, she couldn't even go out to her own garden without having someone 'pass by' to check up on her!

It was suffocating. So damn suffocating it drove her mad sometimes.

(After the passing of the sparrow's mother, she was moved from to a cage. It was nothing like the nest she had once peacefully lived in. It lacked warmth, it lacked comfort like before and most importantly, it lack freedom for it was nothing more than a cage under lock and key with bars that allowed only glimpses of the world beyond it.)

But she never let it daunt her. Eventually she managed to find ways to give the adults the slip but soon, they too learned how to not fall for her tricks.

Suzume decided there was no point trying to kill something she knew little to nothing about other than rumors, fairy tale stories and imagination. So she begged her private tutor day and night, day after day, to tell her anything she could possibly know or find about demons.

Her tutor was a senior citizen- younger than her grandmother but still old as her hair was already turning grey- and like her grandmother, knew about demons.....at least, knew more than Suzume.

She also had a soft spot for Suzume, more so after losing both female figures in her life. Three weeks later, she caved in and gathered what she could about demons.

Unfortunately information was scarce.

It was like getting blood from stone, all Suzume could find out to be a solid fact was that demons prowled at night. It made sense considering they were literal nightmares themselves.

She was briefly frustrated that there was only so little to go by. Then she remembered her family's history and decided to try her hand at something else.

Swordsmanship.

Suzume knew for a fact that she wasn't strong. Her body was slender with little to no muscle and she was not used to doing any form of heavy labor. But she resolved that she would learn it herself and get used to it.

So one day, when her father was asleep, she snuck into the family main room where a katana- one of many belonging to her father- was displayed there in all its sharp pristine glory.

(One day, the sparrow tried to sneak off into the trees to jump off and take flight, to once again attempt to glide.)

Her hands had trembled with nervousness and anticipation as she took the katana down. She grunted and nearly dropped it, surprised by its weight but managed to haul it down.

Then she propped it up and pulled the blade out. Unfortunately, it was longer than she thought it was and her fingers slipped when she couldn't fully pull it out and her hands could stretch no further.

With a yelp, she dropped it and with a metallic 'shink' it went back down into its sheath. Then there was a small cry of pain as the razor sharp edge of the blade sliced her palm.

She hissed and fought back the tears of pain- pathetic, she couldn't even handle one measly cut, how was she going to handle a demon?!- clutching her injured palm before pressing it against her obi in an attempt to stem the blood.

(The sparrow was pricked by the pointy branches and the pebbles kept tripping her. The bark was rough and unwelcoming and the leaves slapped her. It was as though they were all telling her that she should go away as she did not belong here.)

Her black obi turned a shade of deep maroon as it was stained by her blood. Gritting her teeth, she ripped her obi into smaller strips and wrapped it around her palm.

Then gripping the handle of the katana, she took a deep breath and hefted it up with all her might.

(The sparrow leaped off the branch. Unfortunately, she was so caught up and invigorated by the prospect of freedom, she forgot a very important lesson.....

One should never run before they can walk.....nor should they attempt to fly when they cannot jump.

She spread her wings out too fast and wide, too soon; she flapped her wings too hard; her feathers weren't grown thick enough to protect her; the winds did not come to assist her.

Her wings- wings that in reality were made of glass, just as beautiful yet delicate and fragile- cracked and she fell.)

Her hands wobbled, her grip loosened as her muscles could no longer bear the weight. The katana was as heavy as lead in her hands and her grip as loose as a frayed rope.

The blade fell down from her hands and in its downward journey, the blade nicked her skin and its silver metal blade was once again stained red by her blood.

The katana clattered down on the floor- even the tatami mats could do little to muffle the sound- and this time, the shoji doors were pushed open to reveal one of the maids.

She stared at the scene before her in horror. For in her eyes, she only saw an innocent little girl as docile as a lamb and delicate as a violet hurt with a discarded katana nearby.

Suzume opened her mouth to plead- to beg and grovel if she had to- with her that she told no one but already the maid was calling for help.

(The sparrow was 'saved' by her father who swooped in and caught her in his talons. He glanced down at her, disappointed as he carried her back to the cage- the prison that has become her home.)

"What were you thinking?!" he roared at her. She stood there, finding her tabi very interesting all of a sudden as her father reprimanded her for her reckless dangerous actions.

"You think this is a child's toy? No! It is a weapon! A creation made to serve warriors in battle! And you took it to fool around and play pretend." He hissed at her.

"I wasn't playing with it!" she said, no longer able to silently take this treatment. "I wanted to learn how to use it."

He barked a humorless laugh that sounded borderline mocking to her ears. "You? How? You can barely lift a fuzukue, much less wield a sword!"

Suzume blinked back the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. Her father's words stung more than the wound on her palm and shoulder. Her face flushed red in anger but also humiliation because deep down, she knew her father was right.

She was weak.

She was just a pretty little girl with fancy things.

"You're lucky the blade didn't scar your face. What would others think of you then? You think men would want you as their wife if you have a scarred face like some...some bandit?" he went on.

"I don't need a husband! I don't even want one!" she snapped back. It was true. All the boys her father introduced her to were always so mean, rude and arrogant.

His fist slammed down onto his fuzukue harshly, the sound startling her and killing the words in her throat.

"Do not  talk back to me like that. Not now, not ever." He warned.

Suzume looked down but didn't apologize.

"Go to your room. We are done." He said curtly before doing a hand gesture that had the maid coming over to gently guide Suzume back to her room.

Her prison cell.

(The sparrow's father berated her for doing such a foolish act that could destroy her. For without her, who would help him give birth to new hatchlings? Who would attend to the nest when he had to leave to hunt?

It was then she realized the cold harsh truth.

She was merely an advantage, a leverage, a practicality that could benefit life. She is not important- nowhere near prized- merely there to get something done because she can.

Freedom was now almost as extinct as her mother's life.)

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Since then Suzume wasn't even allowed to go near kitchen knives. More than once the maids had stopped her when she so much as touched a pair of scissors or shears.

More than once, Suzume wanted to scream at the world and tell it to screw off. To rip her brown to copper hair out of her scalp and punch the walls in frustration.

So what if she hurt herself? So what if she broke? Did they truly see her as nothing more than a porcelain doll that would shatter at the gust of the slightest winds? Was that really all she was?

Was she that weak and pathetic?

Often times she would ask herself that and got no answer.

Ever since that incident, she and her father have drifted further and further apart to the point he was nothing more than a familiar stranger in her life.

He was never there when she dined, nor has he ever stepped out of his study unless he had to.

Even after the argument they had, she still tried- god she tried- because deep down, that vulnerable child all alone and scared, with no one to care, still wanted that warm parental love she lacked.

She felt like a fool for believing her father would care.

He acted like she didn't even exist. The few times she saw him, she called out a greeting and he would ignore her and walk pass her as though she wasn't even there. The most he did at times was grace her with a small nod but never even spared a glance at her.

Attempts at visiting him in person were avoided, cancelled or downright tense and awkward.

Trying to impress him with achievements of beautiful art- embroidery and sketches- was like pouring water into an ocean.

Then the fact settled itself in both her mind and heart that Hisato Sora no longer cared for her as his daughter or as her father.

He would look at her and only be reminded of what he had lost for Suzume had been blessed- and cursed- with the looks of her mother.

The brown hair that faded to copper that naturally split in half midway like a swallow's tail; Her intelligent sharp brown yellow eyes filled with warmth and kindness, capable of seeing the colours of the world in a way no one else could; Her slender body and also slender nimble fingers capable of creating works of art; The fire in her free spirit, her stubborn determination and iron resolve.

It was of course, easier for him to just sweep her under the rug.......the same way he locked away any lingering emotions from the past in a chest he shoved into the deepest corners of his mind along with any other past ghosts that could potentially haunt him.

Suzume suddenly found his magenta and grey aura uneasy to look at.......the same way he found looking at her.

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When she was 10, barely a week after News Years, her father moved her to a new form of a cage.

A hanamachi.

Suzume barely had a week to comprehend the news and when it finally settled in after three days- when she finally realized this wasn't all some sick joke or twisted nightmare- she actually screamed.

She cried, she cursed and yelled at the world. Why did it have to be so unfair and cruel? Was taking her mother and grandmother away not enough? Did fate find her pain and agony that amusing?!

Again, she was chided for her 'childish unladylike' behavior that did not fit a 'young lady of her status'.

Her 'status' could go screw itself off a cliff for all she cared.

But like so many aspects of nature, she had no control over any of it and soon, she was packed and ready to go. At least some of the maids, the ones she has known longer and grown closer with- the few in her life who still cared- gave her a warm sincere farewell and even made her favourite snacks for the journey!

As for her father....well.............this time he graced her with a goodbye and 'wished her success'. Gee, no pressure at all daddy dear.

Arriving at the hanamachi...........had circumstances been different....had she not known the true purpose as to why she was here, she would've loved travelling to a place like this.

It was....nice, she'll admit. The auras of the people there seemed to have no ill will underneath and the atmosphere was filled with ambiance and screamed grace and elegance- these only seemed to make it even more suffocating to her however.

She had to resist the urge to turn tail and just run, run as fast as her legs could carry her and as far as possible away from this new cage she'll be locked up in.

(One day, the sparrow's father left her in a new place amongst others that were similar yet oh so different than her. She was confused and scared. Why was he leaving her, a sparrow, with the peacocks?

"To learn." He told her. "To evolve and grow." That was all before he took flight, leaving her to this new foreign world to survive in by herself.)

Then Suzume realized someone had arrived- most likely her guide- and hurriedly bowed in greeting. She may not be as...... 'ladylike' as her peers at times but she is polite.

The lady was somewhere in her early 20s to 30s with a nice velvet and rose shade aura. She was also nice and pretty. Her ruby red lips were like a rose petal on her mouth and her pink flowery kimono accentuated her curvy body in a beautiful yet modest way.

She said her name was Aichiyo meaning love and eternal. She was a geisha and was going to guide her to the okiyo where she will begin her....... 'training'.

Although her mind and heart screamed at her to run, to not follow- to do anything but go along and accept this- the other voice in her head asked her what else could she do? Where could she run to even? And even if she did, as if she could even survive out there in the world by herself.

(The sparrow wanted to escape. She wanted to leave this suffocating golden cage covered in glitter and fake beauty. But then where could she fly to? What skies would accept her? How far could her own wings even take her?

And so like the weak hatchling with broken wings she was, she accepted her fate and entered her new 'nest'.)

And so she followed and found herself standing before an okiya that seemed to loom over her, drowning her in its shadow.

Numbly, she took off her shoes and soon she was face to face with the woman who would from this day on, be her okasan.

She was a beautiful woman with grey hair that reminded her of fog done up in a neat bun with a sparkling flower hair pin nestled in her grey locks. Her black eyes had a certain steeliness to them that made her nervous yet they were honest and sincere. Like her personality, she had a firm aquamarine aura that didn't waver.

Her name was Chikano and she would be the one deciding whether or not Suzume would stay here or be sent back to her original cage in shame.

Suzume mentally sighed and steeled herself for the path ahead.

She had to choose now. The okiyo or...... 'home'....

At this point, home was a foreign concept.

______________________________________________________

At least........at least this cage won't be watched over by the familiar stranger she once called her father.

That was the only thing stopping the tears from spilling down her face when she looked into the mirror and found herself staring at the reflection of a girl she didn't even recognize as herself.