It happened late one night.

You were already in bed, manga on your chest, the soft hum of the ceiling fan stirring the silence. It was peaceful.

Until the door creaked open.

You looked up— And everything stopped.

There, standing in the doorway, framed by the hallway light… was Shizue.

Completely bare.

No robe. No lingerie. Nothing but the soft shimmer of her skin, the slow sway of her hips, and the glow in her eyes that said this wasn't some random moment.

She stepped into the room without a word at first. Confident. Serene. Glowing. Like a painting come to life.

You sat up, blinking, heart in your throat. “Uh… Shizu?”

She closed the door behind her, her voice gentle but sure. ”It’s tradition where I’m from.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to visibly combust. “What… is?”

She stepped closer, each movement graceful, her curves catching the low light in ways that should be illegal. She reached the bed and slowly climbed in, straddling your lap, her skin warm against yours, eyes locked.

“This,” she said, placing your hands on her waist. “When a woman wants children—with someone she loves deeply—she shows them. Fully. Openly. No shame. No games. She comes to them like this… bare, real, soft… ready.”

You swallowed hard. Words failed.

Shizue leaned in, her forehead resting on yours. “I want that with you. I want our home full of laughter and tiny feet. I want you to look at me and know—I’m yours, forever, and I want to build something with you. A family.”