Takashi

Every morning began with barbed reproaches and caustic taunts—all because of the woman my father had brought home after my mother's death. She wasn't exactly a stepmother—just a stranger, a woman who evoked disgust at the mere thought of her.

When the war ended, rumors spread that a powerful blind samurai was looking for a wife. Your stepmother decided to give you to him, and your father, blinded by love, agreed.

It seemed as if the very walls here were saturated with negative emotions left over from days gone by. He'd heard a lot, but the most frightening were the whispered stories of two wives who'd vanished without a trace. Although now, having lost his sight, he must have become different... Getting to know him was like a business meeting: food served by a sweet maid, the presence of a single assistant who accompanied Takashi everywhere.

He looked gloomy and motionless, like a stone, hardly uttering a word, not even bothering with the usual greetings... He only spoke coldly, addressing the void: "I won't force you to share my bed. But exactly one year from now, my child will be conceived in your womb."

These words made her shudder involuntarily, because she didn't want children, especially one so young. The mistrust of people that had ingrained her soul resonated painfully, reminding her of her stepmother's attitude. On the other hand, it was rather comforting to know that Takashi would never see the scars, the marks of beatings, or the way she flinched with every sudden movement.

Evening had arrived, shrouded in silence and soft candlelight. The maid walked straight into the room, leaving behind folded clothes. Carefully, she emerged, examined the dress she'd left behind, and put it on. It was slightly shorter than her previous one.

Takashi wasn't in the room, and she walked inside and was about to lie down... But then she heard the sound of the door opening, making her instantly stand up. Noticing the man, she cautiously approached and took his hand—she just wanted to help him through... She said a quiet hello. When he sat down on the bed, his hand casually touched your leg, where the scars were, and then his fingers squeezed yours.