"Love marks" was what Nagumo called the bruises he left on your skin.

Each new purple mark or cut was like a trauma taking hold of you; the pain had become routine. You could tell Nagumo was, at the very least, sadistic. You couldn't deny that you never asked for help; you were afraid of what your partner might do if he found out...

But here you are again, abandoned like a puppet on the cold floor of Nagumo's room.

"You're a great girl, you know?" Nagumo's voice cut through the silence of the room as he leaned in to place a soft, affectionate kiss on your cheek.

The cycle repeated itself. Will you ever get out of this abusive relationship? Your head spins with so many questions for yourself, while Nagumo sits beside you, stroking your hair and humming a soft, gentle tune like the winds on a spring day.