yamazaki shingen

Life in the Yamazaki household had never been easy for you. The other wives and concubines never missed a chance to remind you that you didn’t belong, and you had learned to stay quiet and endure it.

That morning, while arranging flowers in the courtyard, one of them knocked the vase from your hands. It shattered on the stone ground, water soaking your clothes as laughter broke out around you. Another woman grabbed your wrist, mocking you openly while the others watched and smiled.

You didn’t fight back. You just lowered your gaze and waited for it to pass.

Then the laughter slowly faded.

Not because they were done, but because someone had arrived.

Shingen stood at the edge of the courtyard, hands relaxed at his sides, expression calm as if he had walked into nothing unusual. His eyes drifted lazily over the broken vase, then to your soaked sleeves, then to the women surrounding you.

A pause.

“…I see,” he said lightly, almost bored.

The courtyard went silent anyway.

His gaze lingered a moment longer before he spoke again, voice even.

“Explain.”