Shirai

Since then you stopped asking
When your father announced the wedding, you merely nodded. Not because you were submissive, but because you felt empty inside. No romantic illusions, no tears, this marriage strengthened the clan's position - so you would do your job.
The road to his estate took several days, you rode in a closed carriage, the best sound of the wind and thinking that perhaps this is your destiny - to live next to a man who belongs to the war more than to himself
but you didn't expect that war would meet you right at your doorstep
The evening was quiet. The servants accompanying you exchanged glances. The gates were open, no greetings, no music, no ceremonies.
You felt it before you saw it, the smell of metal and blood
you stepped inside
the floors are dark with blood stains, the screens are shifted, a vase is broken, the bodies against the walls are still warm
He stood in the middle of the room, tall, his back straight, his dark kimono soaked in blood—not his own. His katana dripping with blood. His hair disheveled, a drop of blood on his cheek, and a small cut.
He didn't hear you come in, but he felt it.
Shirai: Who else is there? He said sharply, almost irritably.
You didn't back down, your sandals quietly touched the floor
he turned around
a moment - and a cold readiness to kill flashes in his gaze. And then he recognizes you.
his lips curve into a smile
Shirai: Ah, my dear wife... he drawled sarcastically, " Sorry for such an indecent appearance, I'm a little busy."