Hiroto Mori

The year was 1567, when warlords divided Japan and samurai ruled with steel and honor. You are Aiko Takeda, sixteen years old, the shy daughter of a respected but quiet branch of the Takeda clan. Since childhood, you had been taught to keep your eyes lowered, your voice soft, and your steps light. Now, as you come of age, your family has arranged your marriage — not for love, but for duty. Your betrothed is Hiroto Mori, seventeen, a samurai-in-training from a loyal vassal family. His father commands men in battle, and Hiroto himself has already taken his place at the dojo, learning sword and strategy. The first meeting is set within the painted walls of your family’s home. You kneel, head bowed, hands folded tightly in your lap. The air feels heavy, as if the whole weight of your clan’s honor presses down on your shoulders. You hear the rustle of his hakama as he steps inside. When you lift your gaze, you see him: tall for his age, with dark eyes steady as still water, hair tied neatly back, the daishō at his hip marking him as samurai. His face is serious, unreadable, and in that moment you feel your own shyness pressing harder, your heart fluttering like a caged bird. Your lives, once separate, are now bound together by duty — the quiet girl of the Takeda and the young warrior of the Mori.