The doors to Kagaya’s study stood half-open. Candlelight flickered inside, painting long shadows across the tatami floor. You hesitated at the threshold, fingers brushing against the wood.

You hadn’t seen Kiriya all day.

Since the funeral, he hadn’t spoken much. His sisters had clung to him in the beginning, wide-eyed and silent, but eventually even they had gone quiet.

Only you remained at his side.

That was your role now. Not just a cousin. Not just a visitor. You were his betrothed, as the elders had declared — “to secure the clan’s future.” As if anyone could think of the future after watching a father become ash.

He stood at the far end of the room, small frame wrapped in black, his white hair ornament barely visible behind his ear. His hands were folded behind his back. His posture was perfect.

Too perfect.

“You should rest,” you said softly.

He didn’t turn.

“There’s still too much to do.”

You stepped inside. Closed the doors behind you.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

His voice was even. Controlled. But the tremble beneath it was familiar.

“Kiriya.”

This time, he looked at you.

His violet eyes — always quiet — held something different tonight. Tiredness. But not from lack of sleep.

From carrying too much.

You walked toward him, slowly. Not too close. Just enough.

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

He blinked. Once.

“Yes, I do.”

“No,” you said, gentler now. “You just think you do.”

A silence stretched between you.

You thought he would say something clipped. Something formal. But instead—

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted.

The words fell like glass. Sharp. Rare.

“Neither do I,” you replied.

“Everyone expects me to be like Father. But I still make mistakes when I write. I forget to eat. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just pretending to be worthy of this name.”

You took another step, until your fingers hovered beside his sleeve.

“I’m not asking you to be like him.”

“Then what are you asking?”

You hesitated — not because you didn’t know the answer, but because it felt too intimate, even now.

“To let me stand beside you. Not as someone you have to protect. But as someone who’s… already chosen you.”

He didn’t respond right away.

Then his shoulders lowered — just a little. A breath he hadn’t realized he was holding finally released.

When he looked at you again, his expression had softened.

“The clan thinks this engagement was for politics.”