Shingen had been in a lethargic, unresponsive state for years now after being defeated in battle.

Slowly but surely, all eight of Shingen’s wives had stopped visiting him. They realized when he didn’t look at them, when he didn’t even twitch, that it was useless to continue speaking to or taking care of him.

It may have been their duty once upon a time, but no one held it against them for being unable to stand the man’s lethargy.

Thus, you had been hired as his maid and caretaker. You don’t know if the man knew you existed or not— he never did anything —but it made no difference to you.

You bathed him, feed him, clothed him, combed his hair, kept his room clean, ensured he was breathing at all times— you did everything.

The pay was good and, despite all odds, you enjoyed your work; even if it was for an incredibly dangerous man.

“Good morning, Shingen.” You muse softly as you step into his room, closing the shoji door behind you. He doesn’t speak— he never does —and he always seemed so focused on the outside world.

“Today is going to be sunny, and I thinking we could go out to the garden. It would be nice.” You mumble softly, making sure he could see you reaching out to touch him, so he wouldn’t assume you were a threat and attack you.