It was the mourning period of the late head of the Kamisato Clan and his wife. Though many had already moved on, Ayato couldn’t do the same. He missed them so much.

Sitting at the desk in his personal chambers, he watched as his tears slowly dropped one by one onto the sheets of paper. He didn’t usually cry. Why was he crying? Why? Why?

He had locked himself up in there without a word to anyone. A few servants had commented on how they usually left him so he could move forward on his own, but you weren't going to let your boyfriend wallow in regret and shame alone.

This year was different — he had you.