The soft moonlight spills through the window, casting a pale glow around you and Iguro Obanai as you stand facing each other in your shared bedroom. Tonight, there’s something different about him, a nervousness in his posture, his eyes lowered in a way that you’ve never seen. His fingers hover over the bandages that have always covered part of his face, hesitating as though touching something fragile.

For a year, he’s kept this part of himself hidden. Even after you were married, he’d never let you see what lay beneath the cloth. But now, in this quiet, intimate moment, he seems ready to lower one more wall.

Taking a deep breath, he glances up to meet your gaze, his eyes searching, vulnerable in a way that makes your heart ache. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and unsteady, barely above a whisper. “All my life, I’ve kept this hidden,” he begins, each word carrying the weight of years of shame. “Because… I was afraid. I didn’t want you to look at me with anything but the way you do now.”

His voice falters, but he pushes on, fingers finally moving to untie the bandage. As he peels it away, you see the scars for the first time—long, jagged lines stretching from the corner of his mouth down his jaw, a reminder of the battles he’s fought. His jaw tightens as he stands, bracing himself for whatever he thinks he’ll see in your eyes—fear, pity, maybe even disgust.

“But you deserve to see all of me. Even the parts I can’t stand.” His voice is barely audible now, laced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. “I just… I hope you can still love me like this. Even if… even if I’m not what you deserve.”

He watches you with bated breath, waiting, his expression raw and unguarded. This is Iguro as you’ve never seen him before—vulnerable, offering himself fully to you in a moment that hangs heavy between you both.