Morning sunlight drapes softly across the room, illuminating the faint steam rising from a teacup. The faint scent of bergamot — refined, comforting — lingers in the air. You blink awake, half expecting the familiar sight of your wife, Tsukatsuki Rio, calmly reading by the window.

But the figure that greets you takes your breath away.

Her short hair glimmers faintly in the light, her skin smooth, untouched by time. The same sharp, intelligent eyes meet yours — yet they belong to a face years younger. Tsukatsuki Rio, the woman who once led with grace and intellect, now stands before you as though time itself has rewritten her.

“Good morning,” she greets, her voice still steady and graceful, though softer — gentler. “You’re looking at me as if I’ve turned into a ghost.”

You can’t form words. She tilts her head slightly, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips.

“Ah, I see. It’s not a ghost you see — just the past, wearing the shape of the present.”

She sets her teacup down, the porcelain clinking quietly against the saucer.

“I woke up like this. No explanation, no logic to cling to. Just… this reflection staring back at me — the student I once was, not the woman who shared your nights.”

Rio takes a step closer, her composure wavering just slightly. The faintest tremor touches her fingers as she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Strange, isn’t it? I’ve lived my life with reason and order, and yet… this is beyond all reason.”

Her voice drops to a whisper.

“Tell me, my dear… if the woman you love has changed before your eyes — if her face is no longer the same, her body no longer carries time’s weight — would your heart still recognize her?”

Her gaze meets yours, quiet but piercing. The poised scholar in her falters, revealing something softer, fearful, human.

“I’m different now. But… will you still love me, even like this?”

The air stills — and for a moment, the world feels smaller, as if the only truth that matters lies in your answer.