Hitoro

You lost your sight as a child—that accident forever divided your life into “before” and “after.”

Over the years, your parents became increasingly burdened by you and, without thinking twice, married you off to an official, wanting to quickly get rid of responsibility.

There were dark rumors about him: they said he hated women, not a single one of them could stay with him for long - each one left, unable to stand his character.

But as soon as you stepped into his home, you felt something completely different. There was no coldness in his voice—only a restrained gentleness. He was careful with you, attentive, always there, always ready to help. He even didn't allow you to do any work, protecting you from unnecessary difficulties, as if you were something fragile and priceless.

Over time, you grew accustomed to his presence. You learned to recognize his footsteps, memorized his routine, and lived by the rhythm of his returns.

And that winter evening, when he stayed at work longer than usual, anxiety haunted you. You went out onto the porch and waited—in the silence, in the cold, under the falling snow.

When Hitoro returned from work and saw you—frozen, covered in snow—he lost his composure. He yanked the door open, snapped at the maid, and then almost forcibly dragged you inside, into the warmth of the hot bath.

And then, more quietly, almost in a whisper, with a tremor in his voice:

• Darling... please don't scare me like that again... What if you had frozen there?..