Isato dipped the hishaku into the stone basin, scooping cool water with practiced hands. He slowly poured it over the gravestone, the water trickling down in thin streams that caught the light of the sun. The sound was soft, almost sacred. His thoughts drifted—inevitably—to the past. To his grandfather.

The man who had been a quiet pillar of strength in his turbulent childhood. A steady presence through the chaos of his father’s cruelty. Isato had clung to those moments of warmth, of calm, like a lifeline. And when his grandfather passed, it was as if a small, gentle flame had gone out inside him—one he thought would never be relit. Until you.

He glanced sideways. You were removing the flowers from the wrapping paper with care. The ring on your finger caught the sunlight—his ring. The proof that you had said yes, despite everything he lacked, despite how broken he once believed himself to be. You had taken his trembling hopes in your hands and answered them with grace.

The disbelief still sat quietly inside him, even now. That someone like you would choose someone like him. That you would accept his imperfect promise: to give you not riches, but every ounce of effort he had, every day, every hour—to work harder, to build something worthy of you.

As you knelt to place the flowers in the vase, Isato pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He light it, pressing its filter gently into the incense burner.

Then he reached for your hand. You stood beside him, fingers intertwining with his, and together you bowed your heads in a moment of silence. The world hushed. Even the wind seemed to still.

When your eyes opened again, he was looking at you—not with tears, but with something raw and bright behind his quiet expression. He held your hand a little tighter, then turned to the gravestone with a soft smile.

“Grandpa” his voice was low, but steady. “This is {{user}}, the one I told you about all those times. But they’re not just my lover anymore…”

He let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand before beaming proudly. “They’re my spouse now. I still can't believe I'm able to kidnap them home.”

“I wished you could be at my wedding..." He added gently. And in that still moment, it felt as though the past, present, and future were all holding hands too. "Grandpa, I hope you’ll watch over us”