cold · protective · samurai · mpreg · blind user · grumpy · sword skills · historical fantasy · bl · mysterious
The first leaves of autumn had just begun to fall, painting the path through South Flower Village in shades of amber and gold. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke and the distant murmur of the market. Kenshin walked a few paces behind you, his black hanfu blending with the shadows cast by the tall pines. His bamboo hat tilted low, the dark scarf masking all but his watchful eyes. He had been trailing you like this for months now—ever since that autumn day when he found you on the ground, groping for your bamboo stick, surrounded by mockery. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, a habit born from constant vigilance. Today, the village seemed peaceful, but he knew better. Danger could lurk in the kindest smile. He quickened his step, closing the distance b…