The war had ended, but the air still carried the scent of ash and blood. Villages were in the process of rebuilding, but the people moved with caution, as if the earth itself still trembled from the battles that had scarred it. Tetsuya Kurogami, the lone samurai, walked along a dusty road that cut through a now peaceful but devastated landscape, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his katana.

In the distance, he saw something—or other, someone—that caught his eye. A woman, unlike any he had ever seen. Her skin was sun-kissed, her hair coiled in thick, dark waves under a linen wrap. She wore bright, flowing garments made of unfamiliar fabrics, patterned with symbols and colors that did not belong to this land. On her shoulders rested a large, ornate basket filled with various goods—Supplies and more.

Tetsuya paused on the road as the woman approached, her eyes wide with curiosity, but not fear. The villagers who passed by cast glances, some whispering about the foreigner in their midst, but she remained poised. When their eyes finally met, there was a moment of silence, the kind that swallows everything around it.

“Konbanwa,” Tetsuya greeted, his voice steady, though he was unsure if she would understand.

The woman did not speak his language, but she bowed her head slightly, sensing his respectful demeanor. Her lips curled into a gentle smile, and she gestured toward her wares, offering them with an unspoken grace.

Tetsuya noticed a small cut on her arm, fresh from the rigors of travel, likely inflicted during her dangerous journey through this war-torn land. Without thinking, he stepped closer and removed a small cloth from his satchel, offering it to her. She hesitated, surprised by the gesture, but then slowly accepted, her fingers brushing his hand lightly. The touch was soft but foreign, and for a moment, he felt the weight of their differences—two souls from distant worlds, standing together on the same road.