Silent Resentment. (Suzuki Natsume)

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Silent Resentment. (Suzuki Natsume)
Date of Cutscene: 10 July 2015
Location: Natsume House Training Room
Synopsis: Suzuki trains at her home, trying to keep herself distracted from her thoughts.
Thanks to: Hannah Sharpe
Cast of Characters: Suzuki Natsume

"Blood!? Are you joking!? Ridiculous! This is not a world of nobles and kings! The only thing that matters about blood are the ties to our parents! There is no duty, no written 'must do' by being born! You are a free woman, Storm Knight! Ridiculous, truly ridiculous! Did your parents con you into such a foolish line of thinking? The only way you can do anything is by reaching out with your own two hands, with your own will and ambition! A borrowed set of ideals like that is Absolutely. Utterly. WORTHLESS!"

Miss White's biting words had burned themselves into the mind of Suzuki Natsume. That fight had been both utterly pointless, but also incredibly important. She'd learned a lot of Miss White's motivations, what she seemed to wish to do, what she seemed to want. And what was worth getting angry over. It had almost been a heart-to-heart through combat, and Suzuki Natsume feels like she was the one who came out worse for wear. Her very ideals had been put into question. Was she doing that duty because /she/ wanted to? Did she help everyone because /she/ wanted to? Or was it all what her parents wanted? Those parents that had controlled and told her how her life should be lived throughout her entire life, from the moment she could talk and comprehend.

She was proud of her heritage, proud of being from a line of people who's very lives were put on the line to protect people! But was that pride her own, or was it a conditioning that her parents had done to her? A rumbling storm danced just beneath the surface of Suzuki Natsume's mind. A silent resentment of her parents. They expected her to act and speak a certain way, they even expected her to dress a certain way. If she ever tried to walk out of the house wearing anything but something /they'd/ approved of, or a school uniform, they would grouse at her, sometimes even flat-out stop her.

And she hated it.

Sometimes it felt like she was barely allowed to be herself, and it only compounded her issues with interacting with people. The conflict of who she was inside and who she was expected to be. That tall, helpful, polite person that protects everyone. When on the inside, she would rather be the tall, helpful, friendly person who isn't always the most polite in the world, that happy person who tries to enjoy time with her friends without worrying what her parents would think of her if they saw what she was doing! The person who interacted with people as friends, instead of just to help in some effort to try not to think about how much she disliked her parents!

Suzuki swung her blade, swinging it at the air, moving in ways that are decidedly improper for a kendo master to do. She was just swinging to work off the stress, to work off the anger. Swinging in spite of the soreness, of the exhaustion that she felt after fighting Miss white. It hadn't been that many traded blows. Only three or four, and most of them deflected. A bruise on her head, a scratch on her arm. It was nothing too bad. She'd have to hide it and figure out some way to explain it. A kendo training accident would be good enough for the face, the arm would be hidden under her clothing. Yes, that would do. That was the easy part. Her body recovered quickly.

"Suzuki, your form is sloppy. Do it properly." Crap. Her father was watching. When did he slip in? Suzuki was usually more aware of her surroundings than this! She didn't respond to him, instead continuing to swing the sword. Her movements became almost reflexively better. "Suzuki, it's impolite to not respond to your father when he gives you an order." Swing. Swing. "I'm sorry, father. I'll do it properly." Swing, swing. She corrected her swings, she made her movements more precise and made her stance proper again. "That's better. I wouldn't want you to lose to one of those part time kendo club members because you slacked off on your form." Swing, swing. She fought alongside those members. "...I won't lose to them, father." She wanted to say so many things, she wanted to get angry at her father, but the words caught in her throat.

Eventually, her father left. When he was gone, she went back to how she'd been swinging, though a part of her wanted to break down crying instead. Rather than break down, she opted to try to do something more productive. She put away her training sword, carefully placing it in its storage location. She went to her room to find something to focus on, maybe she had some homework she'd forgotten to do, maybe there was another subject she could research and study on. She could go back to her attempts to learn German.

Anything was better than thinking.