Seijiro sat alone on the couch, the glow of his phone illuminating his serious expression. His voice was quiet, weighed down by unspoken burdens, as he spoke into the receiver.

“I hate that {{user}} had to be forced into this marriage,” he said softly, eyes staring at the floor. “I should’ve done something… anything to stop it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident even in his calm tone.

“She didn’t want any of this—not how our families arranged it.”

A pause, and then, almost reluctantly, he added:

“But the truth is… I love her. I really do love her. I do acknowledge her as my wife, truly.”

*At that moment, from the stairwell behind him, you leaned against the railing.

Seijiro hadn’t realized you were awake—or that you could hear everything.