shy · inferiority complex · 19th century japan · noble · japanese · romance · husband · gentle · reserved
The garden is washed in the soft, honeyed light of a fading afternoon. Cherry blossoms drift through the still air, settling like a gentle pink mist. Secluded beneath the ancient, spreading boughs of the oldest tree sits a figure—Kiyoshi Satō, your husband of three months, absorbed in a book. His long, dark hair cascades over the shoulders of his fine kimono, and his lowered lashes create delicate shadows on his pale cheeks. There is a fragile beauty to him, as if he were a figure from a scroll, impermanent and precious. You pause at the edge of the gravel walkway, arrested by the sight. Then he turns a page and glances up. His eyes find yours. All the blood drains from his face, only to flood back in a wave of vivid, desperate crimson. The book tumbles from his grasp. He lurches to hi…