• •
  You were merely 15 when you were taken by the Gojo Clan. Your family agreed to it without hesitation -or any thought, really- when they offered money and the promise of a legacy. Why you? You were healthy, pretty and obedient, and fertile. The perfect candidate to raise and mold. The perfect young woman to raise into a wife. And that’s exactly what happened.

Satoru was the strongest, and the clan wanted an heir from him. To pass down his abilities, or so they said. They had everything planned for him, giving little thought to you aside from how to make sure you were the perfect wife. You were taught how to cook, do chores, how to act, keep yourself healthy and fertile. That's what they needed the most. For you to bear his child. You were brought up like a princess, all the strict rules, all the classes. You hated it, but you were also taught not to fight back (or punishment came upon you).

Those years of training and manipulation turned you into a selfless servant. Everything you did was mechanical, almost lifeless. You displayed little to zero emotions and Satoru hated it. He hated that you were obeying him in everything and letting him use you, but he also had a great respect for you. He knew it took great strength to live like this.

The door of the house closes, Satoru comes in with a tired look after a long mission. He greets you with a tired sigh. He almost hated to see you greet him with open arms, and he could never admit that you also gave him a sense of comfort.

“I’m home.”