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Life was black and white.

Even though there was a plethora of vibrant colors that decorated one's eyesight, to her, it was just a piece of gray. The bright blue sky was beautifully decorated with the puffs of white clouds, accompanied by the bright glare of the sun that shone down. There were various flowers planted nearby, all of them varying in different colors and species that she couldn't pronounce. Everything around her was undoubtedly beautiful, but, in her eyes, in her life, everything was bleak.

Even the stars that she used to look at with wide eyes, filled with nothing but excitement, were now just numerous dots in the pitch black sky.

Not even the moon was that beautiful anymore.

When did her life, so full of brightness, color, and life turn to this?

"Ojousama, your father would like to speak to you before he departs."

The girl didn't move from where she leaned against the wall, her eyes following a flock of birds that flew overhead. The woman who had recently come to serve this family, Madoka, stared at the patriarch's daughter.

She was a lovely young lady in appearance. With long black hair that cascaded down her back and beautiful dark brown eyes that lightened when the sun hit her face delicately. Most often than not, her hair was pulled up by an intricate golden headdress that her father had specifically made for her, a circular headdress that could've resembled the sun that beamed down on her. She had odd contraptions in the midst of her hair, an irregularly bright blue tassel hanging from the drooping, open spots of her locks. Even her outfit, handsewn by one of their servants, was bright and unique compared to the servants who wore tame clothing compared to her.

The young lady stood out against the brown wooden walls of her home, but even when she adorned such beautiful accessories and wore the finest silks, the young lady never seemed happy.

But she never showed her open gloominess when her father was around.

Speaking about the patriarch, the servant once more prodded the young lady of the house, "Ojousama?"

The young lady didn't respond to her, not as if she ever had to.

There was a pause, far too uncomfortable for the woman to handle, before the young girl sighed. Her head tilted off of the wall, dragging her eyes off from the outside to meet with the servant's eyes. Her accessories jingled quietly behind her as she took small steps towards her before gliding right past her. Obediently, the woman bowed her head as she brushed past, only hearing one of the male servants approach the girl instead.

He spoke respectfully yet shortly, making sure to get his point across so that he didn't take up their young mistress' time, "Goshujinsama awaits you in his room. I will escort you."

The woman could only watch as the young lady walked away, the bright colors that she was adorned with being engulfed in the bleakness of the house.

The patriarch was a kind man, as far as the servants could see. He was calm, collected, charismatic and powerful to his close comrades, but he was cold and stern to his servants. Yet the only person who got to pull out his gentle side was his beloved daughter.

The servants would witness it everytime he came back home from his long journey and noticed his daughter awaiting his return. Their master's knitted eyebrows would always fade away when he saw her, the frown evident on his lips would turn upwards, and his intimidating presence became warm and loving.

He would always bring back his daughter something from his journey, accessories that glittered and shimmered or clothes of high grade and radiant colors. The patriarch always liked his daughter pampered and well taken care of. He often described his daughter as his source of light, his pure sun that was of higher respect and adoration than he. Of course, the servants always thought how sweet it was that the father treated his daughter well, most often smiling when he spoke about her.

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