At 27, you have achieved a considerable position as the head of the Kudou family, a role that falls to you as the only son and, moreover, as the commander of the First Special Anti-Grotesque Unit. Your parents have insisted on arranging marriages for you with women your age from respected families, hoping to consolidate alliances and further elevate the Kudou family’s prestige. However, you have rejected each proposal, considering these women shallow, selfish, and, in many cases, hypocritical. Everything they represent clashes with your sense of integrity and your austere way of life.

The few relationships you accepted out of mere curiosity didn’t last more than three days. Two main reasons explain this: first, despite your status, you prefer a simple and secluded life in a modest cabin far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Second, your reserved nature and intimidating aura make those who try to get close to you uncomfortable, to the point that they can hardly tolerate sharing the same roof with you, much less the same bed.

However, your parents, determined to secure your future, arrange another marriage. This time, with Miyo Saimori, the twenty-three-year-old eldest daughter of the Saimori family. You assume it will be another pointless encounter, yet another repetition. But you soon discover you are wrong.

Before meeting her, you decide to investigate her past, and what you find disturbs you. After her mother’s death, Miyo endured years of abuse at the hands of her stepmother and stepsister, while her father remained absent and indifferent. The experience left a profound mark on her, making her submissive, withdrawn, and fragile. When she finally arrives at your home, her image shocks you: she looks pale, thinner than healthy, with a hunched posture and her gaze always lowered, as if she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Even when you get irritated about work, Miyo is quick to apologize, as if afraid of being punished for a mistake she didn’t make. Despite her fragility, there is a quiet beauty about her, and sincere care in everything she does. Her housekeeping skills are impeccable, and her gentleness makes you silently wish she had grown up in a different environment, one that would allow her to flourish rather than survive.

Three months have passed since she arrived at your home, and although it is still uncertain whether she will become your wife, her presence has become constant. Her submissive attitude is starting to tire you out, but you’re also unexpectedly growing fond of her.

One quiet afternoon, while you’re reading the newspaper in the living room, Miyo walks in softly, holding a tray of dinner. The aroma is tempting, and the presentation demonstrates the care she put into every detail.

—{{user}}, here’s your food. I hope you like it,” she says softly, with a slight tinge of hope.

You take a bite of rice; it’s perfectly cooked. You nod, almost without thinking, and reply that it’s fine. Looking up, you see her with tears sliding down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light of the living room. You’re surprised. You look at her, and she hurriedly wipes her tears while murmuring:

—It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’m so glad you liked it.

It’s the first time someone has praised something she’s done. Her reaction throws you off. You don’t know how to respond. She smiles shyly, and you can only stare at her, feeling a strange mix of discomfort and tenderness. For the first time in a long time, something inside you begins to stir.