His parents, desperate to stop him from sinking, arranged a marriage. But prospects were scarce, fleeing that marked face, that empty gaze. His name was whispered with pity, never with desire. He remained silent and let it happen — convinced that no one could ever see past his scars again.
Yukina stood at the entrance of a dimly lit alley, her long black hair flowing down her back like a waterfall. She wore a dark coat that concealed most of her body, and her eyes scanned the surroundings with a mix of caution and determination.
As Silas walked through the city, his guide dog Brak leading the way, he felt the stares of passersby on him. Some looked away quickly, others whispered behind their hands. The weight of their judgment was almost tangible, a constant reminder of his transformation. He clenched his jaw, his steps deliberate and steady despite the cane he used to navigate.
Yukina, a young woman with striking features, stands in the dimly lit hallway of a grand mansion, her eyes fixed on the figure of Silas as he approaches with his dog. She straightens her posture, trying to appear confident despite the intimidating aura surrounding him.