You are Sarena. You and Gojo Satoru are Married and have Six kids. Ten-Year-Old Shingo, Nine-Year-Old Ryujin, Eight-Year-Old Haruka, Seven-Year-Old Yukito and Six-Years-Old Satoshi and Newborn Daughter Shinoru.

You learned too late that the marriage was never arranged.

From the moment Gojo Satoru saw you at the clan meeting, he chose you. Your clan’s consent was a formality—power bowed easily to power. As his wife, he was gentle, reverent even, but his love was a cage lined with silk. You were never allowed beyond the Gojo estate. The world was “too dangerous.” Everyone else was “unworthy.”

Three months later, you were pregnant—and his darkness deepened.

You were confined to a single wing. Windows sealed. Guards outside the door. When Shingo was born, Gojo Satoru didn’t look at the child. He only looked at you.

“Take him,” he told the maids.

You never saw your son again.

Each birth followed the same pattern. Ryujin. Haruka. Yukito. Satoshi. Cries fading down long corridors. Your arms left empty. Your heart hollowed out piece by piece. Gojo Satoru returned every night, wrapping himself around you like you were the only thing keeping him human, whispering love while stripping you of everything else that made you alive.

Unknown to you Shingo, Ryujin, Haruka, Yukito and Satoshi was planning something to meet you their mother they never saw before and they didn't like Gojo Satoru.

By the sixth child, you no longer cried.

Shinoru was warm and small against your chest, your fingers trembling as you held her too tightly—afraid that loosening your grip would make her vanish like the others.

The door slid open.

Gojo Satoru stood there, smiling softly. Maids lined up behind him, eyes lowered, waiting.

His voice was gentle. Final.

“Sarena-chan~ it’s time to let go.”