chapter 1 caged bird

Chapter 1: The Caged Bird

The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows along the silk-covered walls of the inner chamber. The scent of fresh jasmine drifted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of burning incense. It was a scene of quiet elegance, untouched by the outside world—a perfect reflection of the life he had always known.

"Little brother, you must never leave the estate."

The voice was gentle yet firm, carrying the weight of unwavering authority. Seated across from him was his eldest brother, Hiroto, his sharp, calculating eyes fixed upon him with the same protective intensity he had known all his life.

He lowered his gaze, long lashes brushing against his pale cheeks. "I know, Hiroto-nii," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

"You say that," his second brother, Renji, interjected, arms crossed as he leaned against the wooden pillar. "But do you understand why?"

He hesitated. Of course, he understood. He had been told a thousand times. The world beyond their estate was cruel. He was too small, too fragile, too… beautiful.

The last part was something his family rarely said outright, but he knew. He could see it in the way they always shielded him, the way the servants averted their eyes as if looking at him too long might be a crime. He had heard whispers before—strangers who had only caught glimpses of him beyond the estate walls calling him an angel, a porcelain doll brought to life.

But he didn't see what was so dangerous about beauty.

His third brother, Takeshi, let out a sigh and knelt beside him, placing a firm hand on his knee. "We only want to protect you. You are too trusting, too naive. There are people who would take advantage of that. If you ever stepped outside these walls, you wouldn't last a moment before someone tried to snatch you away."

He lowered his head, his delicate fingers curling into the silken fabric of his robes. "I understand," he whispered again, but this time, the words felt hollow.

Hiroto sighed, rubbing his temple as if this conversation exhausted him. "Father will be returning from the capital soon. When he does, we will discuss your future. Perhaps it is time to arrange a proper marriage for you—one that ensures your safety."

His heart clenched. A marriage?

His third brother, Takeshi, must have noticed the way his expression faltered because he quickly added, "Don't look so frightened. We will choose someone who will care for you properly."

But the idea of being given away to some nobleman—another cage, just in a different form—felt unbearable. He wanted to protest, but what could he say? His family loved him. They were only trying to protect him.

So he simply nodded. "I understand, Nii-sama."

His brothers exchanged glances before Hiroto finally stood. "Get some rest. We will talk again in the morning."

One by one, they left, their heavy presence retreating down the hall until only silence remained.

He sat there for a long time, staring at the flickering candlelight, his heart pounding with something unfamiliar.

He couldn't breathe.

This house, these walls, the endless protection—it was suffocating him.

And suddenly, he knew.

Tonight, he would leave.

The moon hung high in the night sky, bathing the estate in a pale, ghostly glow. The corridors were silent, save for the occasional footsteps of patrolling guards.

His breath trembled as he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, ensuring his face was hidden. The fabric swallowed his delicate frame, making him look even smaller than he already was.

His heart pounded as he crept through the halls, his slippered feet barely making a sound against the polished wooden floors. He had never done this before—never once defied his family. But something inside him burned, a desperate longing to taste the world beyond his golden prison.

Slipping past the final gate, he stepped into the night.

For the first time in his life, he was free.

The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of earth and distant rain. The streets beyond the estate walls were alive, lanterns swaying in the breeze, casting warm golden hues against the wooden stalls and bustling figures moving about.

His eyes widened in awe.

So this was the world outside.

His delicate fingers brushed against the fabric of hanging silks, traced the smooth porcelain of a vendor's wares. He had never seen such things up close, never felt the rough texture of unpolished wood or the coolness of glass beads rolling against his fingertips.

Lost in wonder, he barely noticed when his hood slipped down.

But others did.

A merchant paused mid-sale, his eyes widening. A pair of women whispered behind their hands, stealing glances his way. A group of men at a nearby sake stand turned, their gazes dark with interest.

He was oblivious.

He continued wandering, unaware of the attention he had drawn, until a hand gently touched his wrist.

"Are you lost, little one?"

He turned, blinking up at the stranger—a woman dressed in deep crimson, her lips painted a striking red. She was beautiful, but there was something unsettling in the way she smiled.

"I…" He hesitated. "I was only looking."

"Ah, but such a lovely creature like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this." She leaned closer, her fingers lingering against his skin. "Come, let me show you something even more beautiful than these dull little stalls."

He hesitated, but her voice was smooth, comforting. He had never been spoken to this way before—so warm, so inviting.

So he nodded.

And just like that, he was led into the depths of the pleasure district.

The brothel was unlike anything he had ever seen.

Silks draped from the ceilings, the air thick with the scent of perfume and burning incense. Laughter and soft moans echoed from shadowed corners, the flickering lanterns casting hazy golden light over lounging figures.

He stood frozen in place, eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"Isn't it lovely?" the woman cooed, guiding him further inside. "A place where beauty is appreciated… and desired."

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, another figure stepped forward—a tall man with a wolfish grin, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"What have you brought us, Aika?"

The woman smiled. "A lost little lamb."

The man's gaze trailed over him, lingering on the porcelain perfection of his face, the delicate curve of his lips, the long lashes framing wide brown eyes.

"A rare gem," the man murmured. "You would fetch a high price."

Confusion flickered across his delicate features. "Price?"

Before he could process the meaning behind those words, another presence entered the room.

Cold. Commanding.

And completely fixated on him.

A man stood near the entrance, dressed in dark armor, the hilt of his sword gleaming in the dim light. His presence was suffocating, heavy like a storm rolling over the horizon.

But it was his gaze that froze him in place.

Dark. Intense. Possessive.

The general.

His breath hitched as their eyes met.

For the first time in his life, he felt afraid.

And yet, beneath the fear, something else stirred.

Something he could not yet name.

The world beyond his home had already stunned him, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

The pleasure district was an entirely different realm, pulsing with life, sound, and color in ways he had never imagined. As he stepped onto the lantern-lit streets, his wide brown eyes reflected the golden glow that bathed the world around him.

Silken banners of crimson and gold hung from rooftops, their embroidered patterns catching the flickering light. Women in elaborate kimonos, their obi tied loosely to hint at their trade, laughed behind painted fans as they watched the passersby. The scent of incense and spiced sake mixed in the air, cloying yet strangely enticing.

He had never seen such sights.

His delicate hands clutched the edges of his cloak as he turned his head from one marvel to another, his lashes fluttering like a butterfly's wings. There were paper lanterns strung above the streets, swaying gently in the night breeze, their soft glow casting an ethereal light on the cobbled path beneath his feet.

To his left, a group of musicians played a soft melody on the shamisen, their fingers plucking at the strings with practiced ease. A young woman sang in a voice as smooth as silk, her words flowing like honey, though he did not fully grasp the meaning. He tilted his head, mesmerized by the way her red-painted lips formed each note, unaware of how his own innocent gaze caught the attention of those watching.

To his right, a procession of courtesans passed, their elaborate hairstyles adorned with golden pins, their robes layered in fabrics finer than anything he had ever worn. They walked with practiced grace, their movements slow and deliberate, each step meant to entice. The scent of their perfume lingered in the air as they passed, a mixture of cherry blossoms and something deeper—something that made his skin tingle, though he did not understand why.

And yet, it was not just the beauty of the place that captured him.

It was the people.

Everywhere he looked, there were men and women entangled in whispered conversations, in stolen touches, in fleeting glances that seemed to hold entire conversations within them. He watched, fascinated, as a woman trailed her fingers down a man's arm, her eyes dark with promise. Another man leaned close to a courtesan, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear as she giggled behind her fan.

This was a world of secrets. A world of things he had never been allowed to see.

His heart pounded, not with fear, but with something else.

Something new.

And he did not notice the way people were looking at him.

The way some paused mid-drink, their eyes following his every delicate movement.

The way others whispered behind their hands, their gazes dark with interest.

The way some licked their lips, as if they had just found the rarest delicacy.

He only saw the beauty.

And so, when a soft voice whispered in his ear, "Come, little one, let me show you something even more wonderful," he did not hesitate.

He stepped forward, deeper into the night.