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Thousand-year Curse (1x1 w/DarkMudkip)

Nana turned her head away, refusing to hear it from Motochika. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”
 
Nana flinched hard, but made no noise. “Motochika… I have to get stronger.. or you won’t… I have to keep working so you can grow..”
 
"Look at me, Nana, there's no change! These extensive grueling traings aren't bearing any fruit! All it's doing is leaving you with more scars!" The lights in his sockets were blazing with rage, like fire flickering with untamed fury.
 
What was she supposed to do? She knew that her feeble struggling wasn’t progressing Motochika at all, but what was she supposed to do? Tears slipped down her bruised cheeks. “I don’t have any other choice.” She whispered. “It’s either get stronger, or die trying..!”
 
There was a soft knock at her bedroom door, a voice speaking up from outside. “Miss, your father has sent for you… is everything alright..?” She sounded scared, probably from Motochika yelling.
“I’ll be there in a moment.” She said softly.
 
Nana looked to Motochika, her visible eye showing her sadness and conflict. “Motochika, please don’t do this, I have to.”
 
"I will not allow him to lay another hand on you!" He stated firmly, eyes burning bright. The door pounded against his back and he gnashed his teeth.
"Nana!!" It was her father, "Come out here now!!"
 
Motochika could see the fear flicker in Nana’s eye when her father called to her; with clenched fists she took another step toward him. “Move, Motochika. Stay here until I come back.”
 
“Get out of my way, Motochika!” Nana snapped, her frail shoulders shaking. This had been the first time ever she had risen her voice at him, and she wasn’t even able to look him in the eye.
 
Nana said nothing as she moved silently passed him a nd out of her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind herself. Motochika could hear her apologizing to her father beyond the door, her soft voice muffled to almost a whisper.
 
He heard the sound of a cane meeting something solid and he flinched.
"Don't you dare waste my time like that again!!" Her father yelled.
 
This time Motochika heard a ragged breath escape Nana, one clearly of pain. “Yes, father, please forgive me.” She said softly.
 
He was shaking so hard, he could hardly stand it. He hated it, he hated them, he hated how they treated her. It made his muscles ache with pain and his chest ache even worse.
 
He could feel the burn deep in every muscle of his being, head pounding with a heavy fog that made him nauseated, his skin feeling too tight for his own body.
The room would gradually grow darker and darker until the sun had set, and still, Nana had yet to return from training.
 
Nana wasn’t usually late to things, and perhaps he was being overly worried, but something felt off to him. His bones aches deeply, a heavy feeling in his chest he simply couldn’t shake.
 
He ran faster toward the training room, desperate to make sure she was ok. He wanted to know, needed to know, he wanted to be sure he wasn't a fool for letting her leave. He couldn't live with himself.
 
Nana could clearly hear each blow land, a sickening sound of wood against skull as her father brought his practice sword down on the back of her head again and again. Her own practice sword had long been disposed of, being knocked from her bruised hands, leaving her defenseless as her father took out his frustration on her once again. This time it was different though, he wasn’t stopping, and she found herself unable to pick herself back up. She felt no control over her body, like she was simply a passenger, witnessing her fathers fury through tunnel vision; watching blood splatter across the dojo floor- her blood. She felt each blow connect, felt the wet on the back of her head and on her face were her nose had been split and broken.
 
Motochika broke through the door and came skidding to a halt. Her father froze and looked over at him.
"What are you doing here?" He asked hatefully. That was it. That was the final straw. Seeing Nana half dead was what did him in. Motochika roared and his mass grew three times his regular size, rushing at her father at break neck sleek and grabbing him by the throat. He felt her father's neck snap from the momentum he had built up clearing the room.
 
Nana lay silent on the floor, not moving even after her father had stopped beating on her, she couldn’t move. Her vision grew hazy, and she could hear a muffled roar followed by thunderous footsteps, but she could only lay face down on the ground in her own blood.
 
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