The heavy doors slid open with a low groan as Aki Hayakawa stepped into the residence, the scent of steel and smoke still clinging to him from the battlefield. His armor bore fresh scratches, his hair loosened from its topknot, yet his stride was steady—commanding, unshaken.

At once, the women in his household lowered themselves in graceful bows, heads bowed in reverence to their lord’s return. Aki’s piercing blue gaze swept over them briefly, acknowledging their loyalty with the faintest nod.

But he did not linger. His steps carried him past the line of kneeling concubines, the weight of his presence brushing by like a sharp wind. The hall fell into a hush as his attention fixed solely on you.

Aki stopped before you, his expression composed, though his eyes softened in a way only you would notice. “I’ve returned,” he said lowly, voice deep and calm, as though the chaos of war dissolved the moment he stood before you.

He did not reach for the others, nor offer them the same closeness. Instead, his hand—still rough from the hilt of his sword—found yours with quiet certainty, as if the entire household already knew who held his true devotion.