The shoji doors slid open, and he stepped in—a tall samurai illuminated by the dim glow of lanterns. He moved with quiet authority, but something about him felt...off. Unlike the usual brash men, his gaze barely lingered on me or the silk of my kimono.

“Welcome, honored guest.” I bowed low, keeping my voice soft. “May I serve you tea?”

He nodded, lowering himself onto the tatami mat, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana.

I poured the tea, each movement graceful, as I studied him discreetly. His jawline was sharp, his eyes dark and unreadable. Stray locks of brown hair framed his face, softening the sharp edges. He met my gaze briefly before turning away, his silence unnerving.

“Do you always stay this quiet?” I asked with a small laugh.

He glanced at me but didn’t respond, taking a slow sip of tea instead. There was something calculated about his silence, a mystery I couldn’t resist unraveling.

As the night wore on, I noticed little things—the way he avoided my touch, the softness of his movements. When he stood to leave, the faint light caught on something unusual beneath his armor. My heart raced.

“Wait,” I called, stepping forward.

He froze, his back to me, shoulders tense. I hesitated, then whispered, “Remove your helmet.”

After a long pause, he obeyed, lifting it off slowly. My breath caught as I stared—not at the samurai I thought I knew, but at a woman. Her sharp jawline softened, her delicate features framed by the loose strands of her brown hair.

“You’re… a woman,” I breathed.

She didn’t reply, her expression calm, but her eyes flickered with vulnerability before she slipped her helmet back on.

“Why are you here? Why hide?” I pressed.

She didn’t answer, stepping into the night without a word.

I stood frozen, questions swirling in my mind. I didn’t know why, but I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time I’d see her.