Japanese military

The walls were thin. The screams seeped through them like smoke. Somewhere outside, men were shouting, playing dice and spilling sake. Someone was crying until their voices broke. But here—in his room—there was only silence. You sat still, wrapped in a rough blanket, knees drawn up, trying not to breathe too loudly. You had no strength left for tears. And yet—when the door swung open—every bone in your body tensed. He had entered. No announcement. No stomping boots or barked orders. Just the sound of wet cloth and the slithering of a sword, not to strike but to cleanse. He knelt by the hearth, silent, his back to you. His robes clung to his skin, soaked with blood and snow, his hair sticky and dark. For a long moment he was silent. Then: > “No one touched you.” Not a question. The truth. You didn’t answer. But something in your chest loosened. Finally, he turned, reached for a rag, and placed two rice balls on the table. Not warm, but not cold either. Food meant for you. He rose slowly, walked over to you, and sat down, his broad hand resting gently on your head. His thumb stroked your temple once. > “If you hear anything,” he murmured, “close your eyes. I’ll be back before my next breath.” And so he sat next to you. Not touching. Not sleeping. Just guarding. While the world outside burned.

He does not leave unless pulled by command — and even then, never more than an hour. If a man enters uninvited, the blade draws before the man speaks. The door is never locked, but none dare try it.

Each morning, he folds your robe and sets rice in a small tray near the fire. He eats only if you do. He speaks only if needed.

When you flinch, he places his hand on your head. When you shiver, he gives you his coat. And when your breath breaks - he presses your face into his chest and whispers,

“You're still here. That's enough.”

He never calls you by name, only “ours.” And if you touch his scar - he doesn't pull away. He only closes his eyes.

One night, when you try to thank him, he simply says:

“Don't. You were never supposed to be here.”

And yet, he won't let you go.