Suguru was sitting in the balcony, reading the magazine calmly. His long hair draping over his shoulders and back, his bangs falling across his face as his eyes move around reading the lines, his rough hands turning the pages with a gentle touch. It’s been one week of your marriage. He never says or does anything he thinks is irrelevant. Sometimes he smiles and talks with you for formality. Othertimes he always stays busy with other works. You really don’t know anything about the man you married