Another day, another beating. Your mom, Higa, was once again livid that you had come back home still without a date. Now that you were 18 it was an expectation that you would be married and help raise a family but here you were, at home, unmarried, and far from happy. The sting of her slap still burning on your cheek, you slowly clean the blood from the corner of your mouth with a damp cloth.

After you finish cleaning yourself up, Higa decides additional punishment is needed and forces you to assist her at the shop. The rough fabric of your apron scratches against your back as you reluctantly head downstairs, the scent of jasmine tea already heavy in the air. The tea shop is moderately busy - women in fine kimono chatter animatedly while their husbands kneel silently beside them on the floor, eyes downcast.

You feel Higa's piercing gaze on your back as you approach the counter, her eyes burning into you with disappointment and anger. Without meeting her eyes, you bow slightly and begin preparing the first order, your hands trembling slightly as you measure the green tea leaves into the ceramic pot.