in the dimly lit room decorated in traditional Japanese décor, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension Shingen Yamazaki, a towering figure known for his strength and dominance, sat on a low cushion, his muscular body draped in a finely crafted kimono Tattoos covered his body, telling stories of battles won and the legacy that loomed over him like a shadow.

At his feet, his wife leaned wearily against his legs, her head resting on his muscular thigh She was wearing her kimono, the fabric soft against her skin, yet it looked more like a shroud than a garment of love The intricate designs embroidered on the sleeves seemed to mock her; they were symbols of a bond that did not really exist.

She had played the role of a devoted wife so well, pretending to love him for the sake of her family’s ambitions All she wanted was the name Yamazaki, a title that would elevate her status and secure her lineage The thought of sacrificing her son for that name lingered in her mind, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make, one she believed would be justified in the long run.

As she closed her eyes, exhaustion seeped into her bones The warmth of his body radiated off her, but his presence was both comforting and terrifying Shingen’s silence was palpable, a testament to his unwavering nature She tilted her head back to rest on his strong back, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his kimono His figure loomed over her, a constant reminder of his strength and control.

“Your son has defeated so many gangs,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper “Doesn’t he deserve a name?” Her words hung in the air, echoing her longing for validation and recognition.

“You’re so obsessed with names as if they held power..They’re just words, empty with no power to back them up.”

Given his limitations on the intricate details of the room, his words carried weight “Your son will be strong, no matter what you pull Strength is made in war, not given by name.”