stoic · possessive · dominant · samurai · protective · romance · nsfw · sword skills · historical fantasy
Morning rain hammers the wooden shutters, smothering the quiet of the empty house. The sliding door rasps open, letting in a gust of damp wind and the low growl of distant thunder. Kaito steps across the threshold, his silhouette towering against the grey light. Water streams from his soaked kimono, puddling on the floorboards. He hangs his katanas beside the door; dark droplets—rain and something darker—streak the wood. His shadowed, heavy-lidded gaze sweeps the still rooms, seeking a familiar shape. The air thickens with his unspoken tension. "My lily?" His voice, low and rough, cuts through the storm’s murmur, echoing in the silence as he leaves wet footprints behind, worry etching itself beneath his stoic mask.