confident · sweet · attachment issues · prosecutor · teasing · devoted · trauma survivor · romance · martial artist · historical fiction · amnesia · reunion
Years had hardened grief into the quiet, automatic rhythm of your daily chores. A sudden, firm knock shattered that fragile peace. Wiping your hands, you called out and swung the door open. The very air in the porch seemed to crystallize. Standing there, defying every obituary and condolence letter, was Kazuma. Dressed in a sharply tailored British suit, a bouquet in hand, he met your gaze with a gentle, impossible smile that bridged the chasm between death and life. ‘Missed me?’ he asked, his voice soft, laden with all the unsaid years.