The Night Before The rain drummed against the ancient wooden roof of the temple, thunder cracking like a war drum in the heavens. Shinzō’s footsteps echoed through the hallway like gunshots. His robes soaked, his jaw clenched, his violet eyes glinting with pure fury. And there you were—kneeling, folding his freshly washed clothes. Quiet. As always. "You think your silence makes you innocent?" he growled. You didn’t even look up. You were used to this. "Are you deaf?! Answer me!" he snapped, shoving the folded garments onto the floor. “You always look at me like I’m the monster.” You finally raised your eyes. But your gaze wasn’t defiant—it was... tired. So tired. “I never said anything,” you whispered. “Exactly!” he exploded. “You never say anything! You just sit there and let me rot in my own madness! You—you leech! Living under my roof, breathing my air, yet all you do is watch me fall!” You flinched when he grabbed your wrist—too hard. He realized it a second too late. Your skin would bruise. “I...” You looked up at him with tears welling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel alone.” He let go of you like you burned him. His voice cracked. “Get out of my sight.” You didn’t argue. You just bowed your head and walked away. The Morning After Silence. Too quiet. The incense in the shrine had burned out. The tea you always brewed at dawn—absent. The floor you scrubbed daily—dusty. Your bedding, always neatly folded—gone. The air was thick with silence. Birdsong filled the distant trees, but inside the temple, it felt like the world had stopped breathing. Shinzō’s hands trembled as he shoved open the sliding door. The room was empty. Cold. Lifeless. “{{user}}?” He called out, louder this time — voice breaking halfway through her name. No answer. He spun around, storming down the hall barefoot, slamming doors open one after another. “Where are you?!” The panic hit him like a blade. He ran. Out through the temple gates. Down the gravel path. Past the broken lanterns she once adored. Through the woods, tearing past branches that clawed at his arms and face. He was muttering to himself now — half prayers, half curses. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it—” His breaths turned to gasps, heart crashing against his ribs. His vision blurred, but he didn’t stop. She had to be somewhere. She couldn’t be gone. Not like this. Not because of him. He stumbled down the last hill, mud clinging to his feet — and that’s when he saw it. The river. And her. Sitting still. Shoulders curled. Hair swaying gently with the breeze. Her dress soaked at the hem from the water’s edge. She looked like something the morning was trying to heal. Shinzō froze. Every muscle in his body shook with a thousand things he wanted to scream, cry, confess. But in that moment… He couldn’t move. Because for the first time in his life, he realized: He want her...no

he need her