*This is a time phase of Kiyomi's life from age 1 to age 5, after the contract was signed and before the actual betrothal . The time period this took place is 30th july 2001- 30th july 2005*
THE KUZUNOHA CLAN
The forest does not just grow; it refines itself.
Like the ancient pines of Shinoda shed their dead needles to make room for the new, our lineage does the same.
Kiyomi is no longer a baby in a crib.
She is the living embodiment of the "Natural Genius" we promised the world.
By age four, she was already moving with a grace that felt ancestral—as if the Fox spirit itself were guiding her joints.
We taught her the sword fighting so she would never be a victim and she would never have to look to a man for protection.
We taught her the Ribbon Dance and Embroidery to enhance her motor control for complex seal-writing.
Kuzunoha — Kitsune heir's body is not made for tanking attacks, it's like a fox — lean, flexible and even underweight, for gliding through enemies's attacks.
We taught her Calligraphy because a Kuzunoha's brushstroke must be as sharp as a blade and as fluid as water.
And the housework?
That was for her soul.
A sorcerer who cannot boil rice or mend a sleeve is a sorcerer who is a slave to their own status. Though we didn't teach her cleaning shelves or doing dishes. The Elders think it's not good for a heir to do cleaning tasks. She would never have to do dishes anyway, servants would always be there.
We will not let her be like the Zenin, who cannot breathe without a servant, who are treated as dolls until they are discarded.
But there is one... "infestation" we cannot clear from our province.
No matter how many seals we place, the Six Eyes finds its way in.
SATORU GOJO (Age 11–15)
"Your embroidery looks like a spider web, Kiyomi. Messy. And you missed a stitch on the petal."
I leaned back against the sliding door of the Kuzunoha hall, tossing a piece of candy into the air and catching it in my mouth.
I'm barely at the Gojo estate anymore.
It's boring there— too many old men bowing and too many talking about "Responsibility."
But here, in the Shinoda forest, it's quiet.
And I get to watch the only other person in the world who doesn't give me a headache.
I still haven't forgiven the Kuzunoha elders, and the whole clan in particular.
And they know it, I realised this when they bowed extra low and put the tea outside the room without disturbing us.
I watched her move through the ribbon dance.
To a normal person, it looks like a pretty, flowy performance.
To the Six Eyes? I can see the Cursed Energy weaving through the silk ribbons, creating a miniature barrier with every rotation.
It's instinctive.
Like she's transmitting her cursed energy into the ribbon to control its movement.
She's a fast learner. Too fast.
"Hey," I called out, jumping down to the floor.
"Forget the sewing. Grab the wooden sword. If you're going to be 'betrothed' to one of those Kamo kids, you better be able to beat him to his stupidity by the time you're six. I'm not having my cousin lose to a guy who fights with blood bags and math equations. Come on. Hit me."
NAOBITO ZENIN
The reports from the Izumi province are... irritating.
They aren't training a bride; they're training a weapon wrapped in silk.
Swordplay, dance, calligraphy and even basic level labor—the Kuzunoha are building a polymath.
They are making her self-sufficient, a concept that is practically unorthodox in the Zenin house.
Our women are forbidden from such things; they are the support, never the pillar.
It's a slap in the face to our traditions.
The Kuzunoha are effectively saying their women are worth more than our men.
And Gojo Satoru is practically living there.
No spy can spy there in his presence.
The "Sibling Clans" have become a fortress.
If those two grow up as close as they are now, the political landscape of Japan won't just shift—it will be dominated by the two of them.
"Naoya," I barked. "Stop staring at the wall and get back to the training floor. The girl you're so 'uninterested' in is currently learning how to outwork you."
NAOYA ZENIN (Age 10-14)
I hate it.
Every time my father speaks, it's about her.
And every time I hear about her, it's something new.
"Kiyomi's calligraphy is perfect."
"Kiyomi's swordplay is fluid."
I practice until my hands bleed and my muscles scream because I'm a Zenin.
I have to be the best.
But she? She just is the best.
It's that disgusting "Natural Genius" nonsense.
The same thing Satoru has. It's unfair.
Why do they get everything since birth when we have to work for it?
And Satoru is always there.
Why does he get to be the one who sees her? Why is he the one she looks up to?
I gripped my training sword harder till my knuckles turn white, imagining the ribbons she dances with.
"A girl doing housework and dancing," I muttered to myself. "She's just playing house. When the real fighting starts, she'll realize beauty doesn't stop a cursed spirit."
But deep down, the thought of her—independent, skilled, and untouchable by me, even though she's a five-year old—makes my chest feel tight with a mix of anger and something I refuse to name.
Nevermind, I want to see her fail.
THE KAMO CLAN (The Head)
We watch from a distance. Our eyes sharp and calculating.
The betrothal contract sits in our vault, a golden chain we have placed around the Kuzunoha's neck.
But the news of her training concerns the elders.
"She is learning to be self-reliant," one elder whispered during a meeting. "She is learning the arts of war and survival. This is not the behavior of a Kamo wife. She should be learning to submit to us, to manage a household servants, not to mend her own clothes like a peasant."
We intended for her to be the jewel in Kamo's crown, a powerful asset for our bloodline.
But it seems the Kuzunoha are raising a Queen who intends to wear the crown herself.
"Let her learn," I replied coldly. "The more skilled she is, the stronger the Kamo bloodline will become once she is brought into our halls. Power can be broken by force. A Queen can be made to serve. But keep an eye on the Gojo boy. He is a bad influence on a future bride. He is teaching her that she has a choice. We must ensure she knows she does not."
KIYOMI KUZUNOHA (Age 4)
My tongue poked out of the corner of my mouth as I pulled the needle through the silk.
My fingers hurt from the needle.
Embroidery is harder than the sword.
With the sword, you just flow.
With the needle, you have to be so, so precise.
If you lose focus for a second, you draw blood.
And I learned it the harder way, I still have the mark on my finger due to a poke yesterday. Further, the needle is tiny.
If I finish it, Mother said I could go to the pond to watch the koi fish.
Satoru was sitting on the porch again, making fun of my work.
He's always there.
He smells like the wind and the expensive sweets he brings from the city.
"It's not messy," I said, not looking up. My voice was small, but steady. "It's a Red Spider Lily. Elders said that it would enhance my skill to make seals."
I looked at him. I had to tilt my head back a long way to see his face.
He laughed, that loud, confident laugh that makes the birds fly out of the trees.
I like it when he's here. The elders are always so serious—teaching me how to cook so I won't starve, teaching me how to dance so I'll be "elegant".
But Satoru... he just wants me to be strong.
He treats me like a partner, not a treasure or a bride.
I put the needle down after completing that flower, one petal still not embroidered perfectly, Satoru was right. Tied it closed and cut the remaining thread with my teeth.
Then I picked up my brush for calligraphy practice, my small hand steady.
I have to be perfect. I thought. For the clan. For the Fox. And so Satoru won't have anyone to laugh at.