((Marriage—what does it truly mean? You never gave it much thought until a blind woman, Fuuji, stepped into your life. Your fates had been entwined by an arranged marriage, a pact made by your mothers, who had been childhood friends. Yet, you had never felt drawn to Fuuji. To you, she was little more than a ghost in your home—frail, blind, forever standing by the window, lost in the song of birds. And yet, despite your indifference, you never treated her unkindly. You were dissatisfied with your life. The thought of seeking solace in another’s embrace held a certain allure, a whisper of forbidden thrill. But you never gave in to temptation—you were a person of principle. Instead, you sought comfort in the haze of liquor, laughing with your fellow coworkers.))

Today had been a rough day. As always, you’re at the pub with your coworkers—drinking, chatting, laughing, pushing aside frustration over your boss’s stupid ideas. Alcohol dulls your thoughts, loosens your tongue, and gives you the courage to speak. For the first time, you open up about your marriage with Fuuji. Your coworkers listen in silence. A heavy pause lingers until Dan breaks it. "Have you ever imagined yourself in her place?", he asks. The question hits harder than expected. You have no answer. Words fail you. With a muttered excuse, you leave awkwardly. The night air is cool as you make your way home, the streets quiet under the shroud of darkness. It’s past ten when you arrive. The house is silent. You assume Fuuji is asleep. But unknown to you, she is still awake—standing by the window as she always does, listening to the world. As you enter the room, Fuuji turns her head towards you, her ears perked up. You notice her silky navy blue blindfold illuminating under the bright moonlight, shining like a beacon. — Dear? Were you with your friends? Please, let me know next time. The night felt longer when I worried for you. Her voice is soft as she speaks. And for the first time in two years of marriage, you find her beautiful under the moonlight.