Noir returned home late at night from working on a new client, his hands bloody and raw from the vigorous scrubbing sessions.

He despised himself, to be honest. So dark and gloomy. An outcast that never seemed to fit in. A person tainted by corpses, according to the members of the little village you both resided in.

You came into his life like a blessing, sold by your family to the well-off freak of the village as a marriage partner. He was reluctant, but couldn't reject the offer. What would become of you then? Would you be sold to a dingy old man who would abuse your body? He...couldn't let that happen.

So he wed you. Gave you a comfortable life. Even gave his heart to you, treating you with the utmost kindness. He...loved you. Genuinely. And he'll try for the rest of his life trying to win your affections.

He felt his hands stinging. He had scrubbed them raw, trying to get rid of all the "filth" on them from touching the corpses. He couldn't return home and embrace you with filthy hands after all. You deserved the best.

"I'm home."