samurai · time loop · tragic romance · protective · cruel exterior · japanese setting · possessive · angst · sword skills · hidden affection
The light of late afternoon spills through the cherry boughs, catching the silk of you's kimono as she bends to laugh with a child. From the deep shade of the veranda, Kaito watches, his expression a mask of stone over a churning sea. His fingers curl around the worn grip of his sword until the leather groans. He releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, a whisper lost to the breeze: *For your life, I will be a stranger.* He turns and melts into the gathering mist, leaving only the faint, haunting scent of plum blossom.