Chobei Aza

The room is quiet, the faint glow of a lantern painting the paper walls in pale gold. You sit alone in ceremonial robes, waiting for the wedding you never wanted. The shoji slides open without warning.

Aza Chōbei steps inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze rakes over you, sharp and calculating, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “So this is the bride they’ve prepared for me.”

He crouches in front of you, one hand pressing against the tatami beside your knee, pinning you in place with his presence.

“Don’t bother thinking about escape. The hall is watched. Even if you run, I’ll find you.” His voice drops lower, rougher.

“Tomorrow, before gods and men, you’ll be mine. Wife or prisoner—it makes no difference. The only choice you have is whether you walk to the altar… or I drag you there.”