Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Sadao, what happened? Why do you look so worried?", Hana asked, her eyes flitting between her husband and the closed room he had just left. "I will have to go see the General again", he says, his fingers fiddling with the key in his hands. The key belonged to the room where the prisoner was staying. After the servants had left and the surgery had been successful, there had been an incident.

Hana had been tidying up as the children were out with Yumi, who had taken them to the park. When she had just finished with their bedroom and was about to leave, she heard a voice from behind her. Her husband was not at home and there wasn't anyone else there except the prisoner and she was sure he wouldn't be so stupid as to roam around freely in the enemy's house, even if they were taking care of him. She was proven wrong immediately. As she turned, her haori's long beaded hangings accidentally brushed across the small opening where the bullet had entered into the boy's body. Pain shot through his torso, and from instinct he leaned forward, trying to find something to hold onto. Unfortunately, all he found was air.

Hana didn't even realise when she fell when the American's body hit hers. A moment ago she was trying to get the boy to turn so she could take a look at his wound, and the next she was on the mattress she had laid out on the floor, one of the man's arms shielding her head from the impact and pressing her close to his chest. When she opened her eyes all she saw was the boy's chest. She had noticed this when she had washed him the first time and her hands had lingered a little longer than they should have, he was extremely fit. This must be a dream. It was not. After she realised this was most definitely not a dream, she opened her eyes again- better to face the situation and get over with it- her eyes met his.

A small shy smile was taking residence on his face as a light blush dusted his cheeks. He looked so disgusting adorable with that smile she wished she could wipe that smile off of his face. Preferably with her lips. All she could do was stare and lick her lips. His mouth opened a little and his breath felt like fresh oxygen to her. She wondered what he tasted like, whether he tasted as delicious as he smelled.

Suddenly, her subconscious which had been screaming at her all this while got louder. She had a husband, for God's sake. He would be home from the General's palace any time. Fuck! Sense took over her, as she pushed the boy away and stood on her shaky legs, hand grasping at the door. Without a look behind her, she left for the washroom.

This was last week. After that incident she hadn't talked to the boy. All she had done was go to Sadao the next day and confess. Okay, maybe she hadn't confessed about everything. Nothing even happened. All she had told her husband was that she had found the boy wandering around the house and she didn't feel safe with him out and all alone, so he had installed a lock on the room. Wasn't that ironic? If it was anyone's safety Sadao should've been worried about, it should've been the boy's. What she wouldn't do to him.

Sadao’s body maneuvering past her, drew her out of her reminiscing and she followed him to the kitchen. Doing what any dutiful wife should, she asked, "When do you have to go to the palace?" "His Excellency has asked that I come by before nightfall. And I will be gone for about a week, if not more", he said, his tone cold. "Ah, do you have to go tonight? You could go by tomorrow morning. I can ask Yumi to take care of the children till tomorrow morning and the prisoner is locked up. I'm sure the General wouldn't mind if you come by tomorrow", she said, draping a hand over her husband's chest.

It wasn't her fault that something had awoken in her that day. It had been so long since a man had touched her with such affection, her husband hadn't touched her after the birth of their daughter till one night when they both had had a little too much sake. And that night had resulted in their baby boy. She had needs that had to be met too. But all her husband did was take care of the prisoner and visit the General's palace to take care of the General. Who would take care of her?

"No!", Sadao shouted, pushing her arm away as though it burned him. "Who do you think you are, going against His Excellency's orders?", he turned to leave. "I will pack and leave. The key to the prisoner's room is in the first drawer. Keep a check on him, if something is wrong send me a missive", his voice was colder now, and it sent shivers through her. All she did was nod and bow her head as he left.

That day, when Sadao left, she vowed that she would find out what exactly he was doing. Did he have an illicit affair? Was he seeing another woman behind her back? Is that why he refused to touch her? So, she followed Sadao. Her face was covered in a black shawl and her haori was almost the same colour as well, tucked into a long dark skirt she had changed into. She stayed far out of Sadao’s eyesight, slinking in the shadows. As they reached the General’s palace without even a single pitstop or turn, she started getting confused. Was the woman someone who worked for the General then? Even with her doubts, she still followed him till the entrance, and entered the palace through the servant’s door. It was astounding though that there were no guards stationed and neither were there servants in the kitchen. Yet she stayed put and entered the long hallway which she had seen led to the dining hall. Perhaps he was meeting the girl there, she thought as she heard a chuckle from inside the hall. There was no way to know what was going on inside unless she entered the room or looked in from outside.

So she sneaked back out through the servant’s door and found the window which looked right into the dining hall. Here it went. Nothing could have prepared her for the scene she saw when she looked inside. She peered through the window, her breath hitching. Inside, Sadao stood before the General—not as a doctor reporting to his superior, but as something else entirely.
The General lounged at the head of the table, a smirk tugging at his lips as he slowly swirled his sake. His uniform jacket lay discarded over the back of a chair, leaving only his loose under-kimono barely draped over his broad shoulders, leaving his chest bare. Sadao stood stiffly before him, his hands clenched at his sides, his gaze cast downward.

“You serve me well, Sadao,” the General murmured, his voice dangerously smooth. “I trust the prisoner remains under control?” “Yes, Excellency,” Sadao replied, but there was something off about his tone—strained, hesitant. The General chuckled, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “Why so tense? I thought we had an understanding.”

Hana watched, frozen, as the General rose from his seat and closed the distance between them. He reached for Sadao’s chin, tilting it up until their eyes met. Her husband did not resist. “You know what will happen if he is discovered, don’t you?” the General whispered, his fingers brushing down Sadao’s jawline. Sadao exhaled shakily. “I know.” “And yet,” the General continued, pressing closer, “I wonder if you are as devoted to me as you claim to be.” Sadao’s hands twitched. “I am.” The General hummed, trailing his fingertips down Sadao’s chest. “Then prove it.”

Hana slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she watched Sadao hesitate, then slowly, deliberately, lean in. The moment their lips met, Hana stumbled backward, her entire world spinning.

This—this was why he hadn’t touched her in so long. It wasn’t another woman. It had never been another woman.

It was him.

It had always been the General.

Hana’s world shattered in that moment. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she clutched her shawl, her knuckles turning white. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. But it was.

Through the flickering candlelight, she saw it all—the way Sadao stood frozen at first, his body stiff with hesitation. The way the General’s fingers curled possessively around the nape of his neck. And then… the way Sadao gave in. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, not like the ones she had dreamed about with the prisoner in their home. No, this was slow, deliberate—an act of submission, not desire.

Hana’s mind reeled. How long had this been happening? How much of her life had been a lie? Her husband, the man she had borne children for, had not only betrayed her, but had done so with the very man who held their lives in his hands. The General finally pulled away, a smug smile curling on his lips as he traced a finger down Sadao’s cheek. “Good,” he murmured. “Your obedience pleases me.”

Sadao bowed his head, his expression unreadable. But Hana could see it—the tension in his jaw, the flicker of something in his eyes. Shame? Fear? Desire? She turned away from the window, bile rising in her throat. This was worse than anything she had imagined. An affair would have been one thing, but this—this was entanglement in something far more sinister. Sadao was trapped. And now, so was she.

Her first instinct was to run. To storm back home, take her children, the prisoner, and disappear before this world swallowed her whole. But she couldn’t. The General was a powerful man. If he discovered she knew his secret, what would he do to her? To their children?

No. She had to think. She had to be careful.

Hana swallowed hard, forcing down the panic. She had followed Sadao here to find the truth, and she had found it. Now, she had to decide what to do with it. Would she confront him? Pretend she never saw? Or use this knowledge to her advantage? A slow, cold realization settled in her chest. For the first time in years, she held power over her husband.

And she intended to use it.

Hana forced herself to breathe, to steady her trembling hands as she backed away from the palace window. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run, to escape this nightmare. But another, darker part of her whispered: No, stay. Think.

For years, she had been the dutiful wife, the woman left behind while Sadao devoted himself to his work, to his country, to a man who now clearly owned him in ways she had never imagined. But now, for the first time, she held something over him. She clenched her shawl, her mind spinning. If she played this right, she could turn the tables.

Sadao had always been so careful, so precise in every decision. A man of honor, of duty. And yet, here he was, entangled in something far more dangerous than simply hiding an enemy soldier in their home. If the General’s secret was ever revealed… it would be treason.

Hana let out a shaky breath. This was not the time to act rashly. She needed to return home, to process this, to figure out what came next. Carefully, she slipped away from the palace grounds, retracing her steps through the servant’s entrance and out into the cold night air. By the time she reached home, her heart was still pounding. She stepped inside, the familiar scent of rice and sandalwood filling her lungs, but everything felt different now.
The house, the walls, even the air—it all felt fake.

And then, she remembered.

The prisoner.

She had been so consumed by her husband’s betrayal that she had nearly forgotten about the young American soldier locked in the spare room upstairs. Moving quickly, she lit a small lantern and walked to the door. She hesitated for only a moment before unlocking it. Inside, the boy was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His golden hair was still damp from sweat, his wound wrapped in fresh bandages. He blinked at her in the dim light, his blue eyes sharp, assessing. “You look… shaken,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but laced with curiosity.

Hana swallowed hard. For the past week, she had been avoiding him, ignoring the strange pull she felt toward him. But now, standing before him, the weight of everything crashing down on her, she suddenly wanted something.

A distraction. A rebellion. A moment of control.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“I saw something tonight,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The soldier tilted his head. “Something bad?” Hana exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Something that changes everything.” The American studied her carefully before nodding. “So… what are you going to do?” Hana’s grip tightened around the lantern. “I don’t know yet,” she whispered.

But deep down, she did know.

She was done waiting. Done being the obedient wife. For the first time in her life, she held power. And she was going to use it.

Sadao was still at the palace, tangled in whatever twisted web of obedience the General had woven around him. And here she was, alone in a house that no longer felt like her own, with a prisoner, locked away behind a wooden door. A prisoner who now knew she had a secret. Was she being reckless, confiding even a shred of truth to the American? Perhaps. But she had needed to say it out loud. To someone. Anyone.

Voice low, still rough from injury, he asked, “Did you decide what you’re going to do?” Hana hesitated. Did she trust him? Of course not. He was the enemy. But right now, she wasn’t sure who the enemy truly was. She crouched before him, her gaze steady. “I need to know something first,” she murmured. “If I were to let you go… what would you do?”

The soldier’s lips parted slightly, surprised by her words. But then he exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Try to make it to the shore. Find a way back. I don’t want to die here.” Hana studied him. He wasn’t lying.

She reached into the folds of her sleeve and pulled out a small knife—a simple kitchen blade, barely sharp enough to do real damage, but sharp enough for what she needed. His eyes darkened with caution as he saw it. “I’m going to cut your ropes,” she whispered. “But if you do anything to make me regret it, I’ll kill you myself.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, the soldier nodded. “Fair enough.” Hana inhaled, steadying herself, before she reached out and sliced through the bindings at his wrists. His hands trembled as he pulled them free, rubbing at the raw skin beneath. “You’re really letting me go?” he murmured, watching her closely.

Hana shook her head. “Not yet. Not until I figure out how to use you.” His brow lifted at that, something amused flickering in his gaze. “Use me, huh?” Hana met his eyes, unflinching. “I know things now-dangerous things. If I’m going to survive, I need an ally.” A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “And you think I can be that ally?” She tightened her grip on the knife. “You don’t have a choice.” The soldier chuckled, shaking his head. “Lady, you’re full of surprises.”

Hana exhaled sharply. You have no idea. Because she had made her choice. She wasn’t going to run. She wasn’t going to stay silent. She was going to take back control.

And with the enemy soldier by her side, she was going to win.

Hana hadn’t planned for this. Letting the American soldier—Tom, as she had learned—move freely in her home had been a calculated risk. He had been wary at first, confused as to why she was helping him instead of turning him in. But as the days passed, a quiet understanding settled between them. Tom never overstepped. He never tried to run. Instead, he watched her carefully, listening as she whispered the truths she had uncovered about her husband and the General. He never offered empty sympathy, only quiet nods, thoughtful silences, and the occasional sharp-witted remark that made her almost—almost—smile. She had forgotten what it felt like to have someone actually see her.

But the moment she realized she was in trouble was the night she found him standing in the garden. The moon hung low, casting silver light over his face, making his features softer than they had any right to be. His wound had healed enough that he no longer moved like a broken man, though there was still a slight stiffness in his stance. He turned at the sound of her approach, his blue eyes catching hers in the dim light. “You can’t sleep either?” he murmured. Hana shook her head. She stepped forward, her bare feet brushing against the cool grass. “Too many thoughts.” Tom let out a low chuckle. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

They stood in silence for a long moment. The air was thick with unspoken words, with something she didn’t want to name. Finally, Tom sighed. “You saved my life.” Hana exhaled, crossing her arms. “I don’t know if I saved you. You’re still trapped here.” “Maybe,” he admitted. Then, after a beat, “But I don’t feel like a prisoner anymore.”

Something in her chest tightened. She looked away, at the darkened trees beyond the garden walls. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed. “I should hate you. You should hate me.” Tom stepped closer, just enough that she could feel his warmth. “I don’t,” he said, voice steady. Hana’s breath caught. She forced herself to meet his gaze. This was dangerous. More dangerous than hiding him. More dangerous than her husband’s secrets.

Because she wanted this. And for the first time in years, she was tired of denying herself.

Tom reached up, hesitating for only a moment before tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingers barely grazed her skin, but it was enough to set her heart racing. “Hana,” he murmured.
She closed her eyes. If she let this happen, there would be no going back. But maybe she didn’t want to go back. So she tilted her chin up, just enough to close the distance between them. And when their lips met—soft, tentative, but full of everything they hadn’t said—Hana knew.

She was already his.

Chapter Text

The night wind whispered through the garden, rustling the paper-thin walls of the house. Hana stood by the open shoji door, staring at the moonlit sky, her mind tangled with thoughts she dared not say aloud. Behind her, the soft shuffle of footsteps broke the silence. She didn’t turn. She knew it was him.

Tom.

She felt his presence before he even spoke. It was strange how familiar it had become—the quiet tension of his gaze, the warmth that seemed to radiate from him even when they weren’t touching. A week ago, he had been nothing more than a nameless enemy, an injured soldier abandoned by his own. Now, he was something else entirely. Something she couldn’t quite define. “Couldn’t sleep again?” Tom’s voice was low, edged with weariness. Hana shook her head. “Too many thoughts.”

Tom moved closer, stepping onto the porch beside her. He was still weak from his wounds, but he carried himself with a quiet resilience that both irritated and intrigued her. “What happens now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve kept me alive, hidden me from your husband and the General. But for how much longer?” Hana exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

That was the truth, and it frustrated her. Every decision she had made so far had been impulsive, driven by emotions she didn’t fully understand. She had locked Tom away, then freed him. She had let him into her thoughts, her secrets. And, in doing so, she had bound herself to him in ways she wasn’t ready to admit.

“I can’t stay here forever,” Tom said, turning to face her. “Your husband will return. And if I’m still here when he does…” The unspoken words hung between them. Sadao would kill him. Without hesitation. And worse, if the General discovered her betrayal, she and her children would suffer for it. Hana knew all of this. And yet… she couldn’t let Tom go. Not yet.

She turned to him, her expression unreadable. “You said you didn’t want to die here.” Tom nodded. “I meant it.” “Then we need to find a way to get you out.” Tom studied her for a moment, his blue eyes searching hers. “And what about you? If you help me escape, you’ll be a traitor to your people. Your husband will know.”

Hana’s fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. “Sadao already sees me as a burden,” she admitted. “Whatever he’s doing at the palace, it matters more to him than I ever have.” Tom’s jaw tensed. He had suspected as much, but hearing her say it made something tighten in his chest. “So what’s the plan?” he asked.

Hana hesitated, then stepped closer. “Sadao is close to the General. Too close. If I can find a way to use that against him, I can buy us a way out.” Tom frowned. “Leverage?” Hana’s gaze darkened. “Yes. The General is a man who thrives on control. And Sadao… he lets himself be controlled.” Tom’s brow furrowed. “Lets himself?”

Hana exhaled, as if speaking it aloud would solidify the terrible truth. “I used to think the General forced him into it. That Sadao had no choice but to obey. But now I’m not sure.” She hesitated before admitting, “I think a part of him chooses this.” Tom’s expression was unreadable. “You think he… wants it?” Hana nodded slowly. “Perhaps not at first. But he didn’t resist for long. He lets the General own him—not just in power, but in body. And for that, he’s been rewarded.”

Tom was silent for a moment and watched her carefully. “You want to blackmail your husband?” She nodded. “If that’s what it takes to get you, me, and my children out of this country safely.” Tom exhaled, his expression unreadable. “And do you think it’ll work?” Hana glanced toward the dark horizon. “I don’t know. But I have to try.”

The next few days passed in careful secrecy. Sadao had yet to return, which meant Hana and Tom had time—though not much. Hana knew her husband’s routines well enough to predict when he would be back, but each passing moment still felt like a ticking clock. She spent the time preparing, listening to the whispers of the servants, piecing together rumors of Sadao’s growing influence in the General’s court. She knew he was trusted. She also knew that trust, once shaken, could be a weapon.

She just had to find the right moment to use it.

The night before Sadao was expected home, Hana found herself standing outside Tom’s door, hesitating.

It wasn’t a matter of strategy or necessity that brought her here this time. It was something else. Something dangerous. When she slid open the door, Tom was sitting by the small table, sharpening a blade he had found among Sadao’s things. He glanced up as she entered, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. “You’re checking up on me?” Hana closed the door behind her, stepping further into the room. “Not exactly.”

Tom watched her closely, his expression shifting from amusement to something more serious. He set the blade down, resting his hands on his knees. “What is it?” Hana hesitated, then sat beside him. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows along the walls, making the space feel smaller, more intimate.

“If something happens tomorrow…” She trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. “You’ll succeed,” Tom said, his voice steady. “We’ll leave together.” Hana turned to him, searching his face. He said it with such certainty, such quiet conviction. And in that moment, the weight of everything pressed against her—her fear, her longing, the unbearable truth that this might be their last night alive.

She didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate. She leaned in.

Tom didn’t pull away. If anything, he met her halfway, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, one that carried the weight of everything left unspoken. Hana’s breath hitched as his hands moved up her back, fingers tracing the edges of her kimono, undoing the delicate ties. She let him. She let herself forget, if only for this night, that she was a wife, a mother, a woman bound by duty.

Their bodies pressed together in the dim candlelight, every touch urgent, every whispered breath a plea for more. Tom traced the lines of her body as if memorizing her, and Hana let herself drown in the sensation. They moved together, slowly at first, then with increasing desperation. Hana clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as if she could somehow keep this moment frozen in time. Tom murmured her name between ragged breaths, his hands guiding her closer, deeper, until all that remained between them was heat and longing.

And when morning came, Hana lay in his arms, knowing that whatever happened next, she would fight for this.

For them.

Sadao arrived earlier than expected. The moment he stepped through the door, his sharp eyes flickered across the room, lingering on Hana. His presence was like a cold gust of wind, unsettling and sharp. “You seem restless,” he observed, removing his outer coat with deliberate slowness. Hana forced a smile, stepping forward with a calm she did not feel. “It has been a long week without you.”

Sadao’s lips curled, not in a smile, but in something resembling amusement. “Is that so?” She moved closer, lowering her voice. “We need to talk.” Sadao studied her, his expression unreadable. “About?” “The General,” she said smoothly, watching him closely. “And what he’s asked of you.”
His expression didn’t change, but she caught the slightest flicker in his gaze. His fingers twitched at his side—just for a moment. That was all she needed to see. “You tread dangerous ground, Hana,” he said quietly. She lifted her chin, refusing to back down. “Do I?” Sadao stepped toward her, slow and measured, like a predator assessing its prey. “You don’t understand what you’re playing with.” “I understand perfectly,” she whispered, her voice unwavering. “And so do you.”

Sadao’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak. He was waiting. Hana exhaled slowly. “I want a divorce.” That caught his attention. Sadao’s gaze snapped to hers, his composed mask slipping just slightly. “What?” “I want a divorce,” she repeated, her voice steady. “I want freedom. I want safety. For myself, for our children. And I want out of this life. You will let us go.” Sadao’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. “You think you can demand such a thing?” “I know I can.” He let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Hana stepped even closer, her voice a whisper of steel. “You serve the General well. Perhaps too well. I wonder, if he were to question your loyalty, would he still be so… generous?” His entire body went rigid. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, but I do,” she said, tilting her head. “I know everything, Sadao. I know why he favors you. I know what you’ve let him take from you. I know how you let him control you. And I know what would happen if anyone else found out.” Sadao’s nostrils flared. “Careful, Hana.”

She didn’t flinch. “Are you worried, dear husband? Worried about what might happen if the wrong ears hear of what you’ve done?” He moved so fast she barely saw it. One second, he was standing before her, the next, his hand gripped her wrist, his face inches from hers. “You would destroy me,” he said, voice low and deadly. “I would set myself free,” she corrected.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening before he abruptly let go, stepping back as if burned. “Hana, this is Japan. You know what they do to men accused of such things.” “Yes,” she said simply. “They punish them. Disgrace them. Kill them.” Sadao’s breathing was sharp, his shoulders tense. She had backed him into a corner, and they both knew it. “You will let me go,” Hana said softly. “You will let me take our children and leave this place. And in return, your secret will stay just that—a secret.” Sadao was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he spoke. “You think the General will allow you to leave?” His voice was laced with something dangerous.

Hana held his gaze. “That’s not your concern.” His jaw clenched. “If you try to run, he will come for you.” She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Then I suppose you should hope I succeed.” Sadao inhaled sharply through his nose, looking away for the first time. She had won, and they both knew it.

But a desperate man was the most dangerous kind.

And Sadao had just become desperate.

Chapter Text

Sadao knelt before the General, the polished wooden floor cool beneath his hands. The dim candle light flickered across the room, casting long shadows against the silk-draped walls. The scent of incense hung thick in the air, mingling with something darker—anticipation, control, submission.
The General sat above him, dressed in a rich black kimono, his hand resting lazily against the lacquered armrest of his chair. His sharp eyes bore into Sadao, reading every flicker of hesitation, every unspoken thought. “You hesitate,” the General murmured, his voice smooth as silk, but laced with quiet authority. “Are you troubled, Sadao?” Sadao swallowed hard, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. “No, Excellency.” The General exhaled a low chuckle. “Lying does not suit you.”

A slow, deliberate movement—the rustle of fabric as the General shifted, closing the space between them. He reached out, fingers gliding along Sadao’s jawline, tilting his chin upward. Sadao’s breath caught. He had been touched by these hands many times before, yet every time carried the same weight, the same inescapable pressure. “Tell me,” the General continued, voice barely above a whisper. “Has your wife finally become a problem?” Sadao’s body tensed.

The General’s grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of who was in control. “She knows too much.” Sadao’s lips parted, but no words came. “You should have dealt with her already,” the General murmured. His thumb brushed over Sadao’s lower lip, a touch that sent a shiver down his spine. “You are mine, Sadao. You should know better than to leave loose ends. I do not like them.” A long pause. Then, deliberately, the General leaned in, his breath warm against Sadao’s lips. He did not kiss him yet—he let the silence stretch, the moment linger, a test of Sadao’s obedience.

And Sadao, as always, yielded.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly in offering. That was all the permission the General required. His lips brushed against Sadao’s, soft but possessive, a reminder of power rather than affection. His fingers threaded through Sadao’s hair, gripping just enough to make him gasp. The kiss deepened, languid and commanding, demanding Sadao’s submission.

When the General finally pulled away, his expression remained unreadable. “You will handle her.” Sadao bowed his head. “Yes, Master.” A satisfied smirk played on the General’s lips. “Good. You may leave.” Sadao rose slowly, his pulse hammering as he turned to exit the chamber. He could still feel the General’s touch, still taste the remnants of power on his lips.

As he stepped into the cold night air, his jaw clenched. He had made his choice long ago. And now, he had to make another. Hana would not live to see another sunrise.

⬵♕⤁

Hana sat on the tatami mat beside her children, running her fingers gently through her son Haru’s hair. The boy rested his head on her lap, eyes fluttering with exhaustion but resisting sleep. Beside him, his elder sister Aiko clutched a small wooden doll, blinking up at her mother with quiet curiosity. “Mother?” Aiko’s voice was small, uncertain. “Are we leaving soon?” Hana’s heart clenched. Children sensed far more than adults gave them credit for.

“Yes, my love,” she whispered, smoothing Aiko’s hair. “Soon.” Haru stirred. She questioned again, “Will Father come with us?” The question made Hana pause. What could she say? That their father had chosen his own path? That he had aligned himself with a man who would never let them go free? She forced a smile. “No, Aiko. But we will be safe. I promise you.”

Aiko’s tiny hand reached for hers, gripping it tightly. “Will Tom come?” At the mention of Tom, a warmth spread through her chest, tinged with sadness. She had not yet told them everything about the American soldier who had become more than a fugitive in their home. But they had seen. They had felt the shift in her, the way her stolen glances at him held a tenderness she had never shared with their father. “Yes,” she said finally, her voice firm. “Tom will come with us.”

Haru’s fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. Aiko spoke up after a minute, “Then I’m not afraid.” Hana pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep now, my loves. Tomorrow will be a long day.” She watched them drift into slumber, their small forms rising and falling with each peaceful breath. A storm was coming. And she had to protect them from it.

⬵♗⤁

Sadao walked through the quiet corridors of the estate, his mind set. He had never truly feared his wife before. She had always been obedient enough—until now. Now, she was dangerous.

The General’s words echoed in his mind. You will handle her. Sadao clenched his fists. He could not afford to hesitate. As he turned a corner, a figure stepped from the shadows. A trusted retainer, one of the General’s loyal enforcers. “Is it to be done tonight, my lord?” the man asked. Sadao exhaled slowly. “No.” The enforcer frowned. “But the General—”

“I will deal with it my way,” Sadao interrupted. There were ways to remove a woman without a blade. Ways that would not leave the stain of her death upon his hands. He straightened, his voice cold. “Find someone who can arrange an accident.” The enforcer bowed. “As you command.” Sadao turned toward his chambers, but a strange weight settled in his chest.

For the first time in his life, he wondered—was this truly the only way?

⬵♘⤁

Tom stood in the dimly lit room, staring at the flickering candle on the low wooden table. His fingers toyed absently with the fabric of the bandages still wrapped around his side. The pain had dulled over the past few days, but something else gnawed at him—a feeling he couldn’t shake. Hana had been distant since her conversation with Sadao. She hadn’t told him much, only that she had confronted her husband and laid out her demands. But Tom had seen the shadow in her eyes, the tightness in her movements. Something had unsettled her.

The shoji door slid open, and Hana stepped inside, her face pale in the candlelight. “Did he agree?” Tom asked softly. Hana hesitated. “Not in words. But he will not let me go so easily.” Tom exhaled sharply. “That’s what I was afraid of.” She moved toward him, sinking onto the tatami beside him. Her hands rested on her lap, tense. “I do not trust him,” she admitted. Tom reached out, covering her hands with his own. “Then we leave as soon as possible.”

Hana met his gaze, something unreadable flickering in her dark eyes. “I need you to be careful, Tom. Sadao may not strike openly, but he is not a man who forgives betrayal.” Tom tightened his grip. “Then we make sure we’re ahead of him.” Hana exhaled slowly, leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder. He felt the way she trembled—just slightly, just enough for him to notice. She was afraid.

And that meant they were running out of time.

⬵♔♗⤁

Sadao stood before the General, his head bowed. “You hesitate,” the General murmured, stepping closer. Sadao swallowed hard. “I will handle it, Excellency.” A gloved hand lifted his chin, forcing him to meet the General’s gaze. The older man’s eyes gleamed with amusement and something far darker. “You have grown soft.” Sadao’s jaw tensed. “No, my lord.”

The General studied him for a long moment before stepping away, his fingers tracing the edge of his desk. “A woman who knows too much is dangerous. A woman who acts on that knowledge? That is unacceptable.” Sadao’s stomach twisted. He knew what the General wanted. Knew what was expected of him. He fell to one knee, lowering his head. “Command me, Master.” A satisfied chuckle. “I already have.” Sadao closed his eyes, shame and duty warring within him.

There was no turning back now.

⬵♕♗⤁

Hana stirred awake, the flickering candlelight casting restless shadows against the paper walls. A strange feeling prickled at her skin—something wasn’t right. She turned her head slightly, expecting to hear the rhythmic breathing of her children in the next room, but instead, the night was unnaturally silent. Then, she felt it.

A presence.

The faintest shift of air. The whisper of fabric against fabric. Instinct screamed at her to move. She rolled to the side just as a glint of steel slashed down where her throat had been moments before. Hana barely had time to gasp before Sadao lunged again. She scrambled backward, her hands finding the edge of the futon, her breath coming in sharp, panicked bursts. “Sadao—” The blade slashed down again.

She twisted, feeling the sting of cold metal graze her arm, tearing through silk and flesh alike. Blood warmed her skin. “You should have stayed obedient,” Sadao hissed. His face was a mask of rage, but beneath it, there was something else—desperation. Hana’s heart slammed against her ribs. He was truly going to kill her. She kicked out, catching his wrist. The knife clattered to the floor. She lunged for it, fingers grazing the hilt—

But Sadao was faster. He seized her by the hair, yanking her backward. Hana cried out, her body twisting as she struggled against his grip. “You think you can shame me?” His voice was low, furious. “You think you can walk away from me alive?” Hana clawed at his hand, her nails digging into his skin. “You’re a coward,” she spat, her voice shaking. “You think killing me will erase the truth? That no one will ever know what you’ve done? That you let yourself be owned?”

Sadao’s grip tightened. His breath was hot against her ear. “You know nothing.” “I know everything,” she whispered, her voice venomous despite the pain. “I know why the General favors you. I know what you let him do to you—what you beg him for.” Sadao slammed her head against the wooden floor. Hana choked on a cry, her vision spinning.

“You dare—” Sadao’s voice wavered with rage. “You dare speak to me like this?” He pressed a knee against her ribs, his weight crushing her down. “You were nothing before me. A wife, a mother, a woman who should have been grateful. But you could never accept your place, could you?” Hana coughed, blood filling her mouth. Still, she laughed—a breathy, painful sound. “My place? Is that what the General tells you when you kneel for him?” Sadao’s fist struck her across the face.

Hana gasped, her head snapping to the side. She tasted iron, the sharp sting of pain blooming across her cheek. “You disgust me,” Sadao spat, but his voice trembled, ever so slightly. Hana’s lips curled into a weak smirk. “Not as much as you disgust yourself.” Sadao’s eyes darkened. He picked up the knife.

This was it. Her breath hitched. Then—

A voice. Low, cold, and filled with rage. “Step away from her.” Sadao froze. Hana turned her head, blinking against the pain. Tom stood in the doorway, his eyes dark with fury.

For a moment, the room was deathly silent. The only sounds were Hana’s ragged breathing and the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath Tom’s bare feet. He stood at the threshold, his expression carved from ice, his fists clenched at his sides. Sadao’s grip on the knife tightened. His jaw flexed, his breath came sharp and uneven. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice quiet but thick with restrained fury.

Tom took a slow step forward. His eyes never left Sadao’s. “And you shouldn’t be trying to murder your wife in the middle of the night.” Sadao let out a slow, bitter chuckle. “You don’t understand the way things work here, gaijin.” “I understand enough,” Tom replied, his tone edged with steel. His gaze flicked to Hana—bruised, bleeding, trembling but still alive. His hands twitched at his sides, his entire body humming with the need to tear Sadao apart.

Hana coughed, shifting beneath Sadao’s weight. The pain laced through her ribs, but she still managed to smirk up at her husband. “Troubled, Sadao?” she rasped. “Losing control, are we?” Sadao’s eye twitched. “Your life is already over,” Hana continued, her voice hoarse but unwavering. “Even if you kill me tonight, it won’t change anything. The General may keep your secret, but do you think he will forgive you for making a mess of things? For being sloppy?”

The knife wavered in Sadao’s grip. Tom saw the hesitation—the way Sadao’s fingers trembled, the flicker of doubt in his eyes. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Hana pressed, her voice sharper now, pushing into the cracks. “You’re afraid. Afraid of what I know. Afraid that I will whisper it to the wrong ears.” She let out a breathless, mocking laugh. “And what will your beloved General do then? Will he still pull you into his bed? Or will he cast you aside like a broken tool?”

Sadao’s expression twisted into something ugly. His free hand wrapped around Hana’s throat, squeezing just enough to silence her. “I could end this right now,” he hissed, his voice shaking. “One quick slice, and you’ll never speak again.” Hana’s hands grasped at his wrist, her breath strangled, but she didn’t look away. Even as black spots danced at the edges of her vision, she smirked. “You won’t.”

Sadao’s grip tightened—then faltered. The hesitation was all Tom needed. With a sharp movement, he lunged. His fist connected with Sadao’s jaw, knocking him backward with a grunt of pain. The knife clattered to the floor as Hana gasped for air, clutching her bruised throat. Tom didn’t stop. He shoved Sadao hard, sending him stumbling into the wall. His rage boiled over, his vision dark with it.

“You bastard,” Tom snarled, slamming his forearm against Sadao’s throat, pinning him. “You touch her again, and I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” Sadao bared his teeth in a twisted grin, even as his breath hitched. “Bold words for a man hiding like a rat in another man’s house.” Tom pressed harder. “I dare you to test me.” Sadao’s smile wavered, but there was something else in his eyes—something calculating.

Then, footsteps echoed from down the hall. Hana’s blood ran cold. The children. Sadao’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. “Looks like we have an audience.” Tom barely had time to turn before the door slid open. Little feet pattered against the wooden floor. Two small figures stood in the dim candlelight, eyes wide with fear.

“Mama?” Hana’s heart clenched. The children were awake. And they had seen everything.

Chapter Text

The silence was suffocating. Hana's children stood frozen in the doorway, their little faces pale with fear. Tom loosened his grip on Sadao, his breath still coming in ragged bursts, but he didn’t move away. His body remained tense, poised for another strike. Sadao, ever the opportunist, latched onto the moment. He coughed, rubbing his throat where Tom had nearly crushed his windpipe, and turned his gaze toward the children. “My dear ones,” he said smoothly, his voice hoarse but sickeningly soft. “You shouldn’t be awake at this hour.”

Hana pushed herself up, wincing as pain lanced through her ribs. Her voice was raw. “Stay where you are,” she commanded the children, her tone firmer than she felt. Her daughter, Aiko, clutched her younger brother’s hand tightly, her small fingers white with strain. “Mama… what’s happening?” Hana’s chest constricted. How could she explain this? How could she tell them the truth when it was so vile, so tangled in deception and violence?
Sadao took a slow step forward, his lips curling into something almost affectionate. “Don’t be frightened,” he cooed. “Your mother and I were just… talking.” Hana’s fists clenched. Tom took a protective step toward her, his posture radiating unspoken warning.

The children’s eyes darted between them, taking in the scene—the overturned lamp, the knife on the floor, their mother’s bruised throat. They weren’t fools. Hana forced herself to stay calm. “Go back to bed,” she urged. “Now.” Aiko hesitated, then pulled her brother along, backing out of the room. But just before she slid the door shut, she whispered, “Mama… don’t let him hurt you.” Then she was gone.

A chilling silence followed.

Sadao’s gaze lingered on the closed door before he let out a slow, dark chuckle. “Smart girl.” He turned back to Hana, his expression unreadable. “It seems we have a problem.” Hana wiped at the blood on her lip, her chin lifting. “Yes,” she said. “And we’re going to solve it.” Sadao’s smile was a thin blade. “You think you have power here, Hana?” She met his gaze without flinching. “I know I do.” Sadao’s eyes darkened. “Then tell me,” he murmured, stepping close enough that she could smell the faint traces of his perfume—one she knew wasn’t his own. “What do you want? Are you going to crow about a divorce again?”

Hana inhaled sharply, steadying herself. Then she spoke. “Yes.” Hana didn’t stop. “I want freedom. For myself, for my children. And for Tom.” Tom tensed beside her, but he remained silent, letting her take control. Sadao blinked once, then laughed softly. “Not even a divorce can grant you freedom from me” he said, as though tasting the word on his tongue. “And what, you think I will simply grant you that?” Hana’s gaze sharpened. “Yes.” Sadao’s amusement faded.

“You’re a fool,” he said, his voice dropping into something cold, something dangerous. “This is Japan, Hana. This is my house, my domain. You are my wife, and you think you can just walk away?” Hana’s fingers curled into her sleeves, her knuckles white. “You will let me go,” she said quietly. “Or the General will know that you’ve lost control of me. And we both know how much he values control.” Sadao’s breath hitched.

Hana tilted her head slightly, pressing deeper into the wound. “What would he say, I wonder, if he knew you couldn’t keep your own household in order?” Her voice was almost a whisper now, lethal in its softness. “Would he still reward you, Sadao? Or would he finally discard you like the obedient dog you’ve become?” Sadao’s entire body went rigid. Tom watched the shift in his expression—the flicker of panic, the realization that Hana was a threat.

Sadao recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. His nostrils flared, his teeth grinding together. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.” Hana lifted her chin. “Oh, but I do.” Sadao inhaled sharply through his nose, his hands trembling at his sides. Then, slowly, his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “If you want to play this game,” he murmured, “then so be it.”

His gaze flicked to Tom, and something in his eyes turned cruel. “But you should know, Hana… I always win.” A shiver ran down her spine. Sadao stepped back, adjusting his collar. He smoothed a hand through his hair as though regaining his composure. Then he turned toward the door. “Rest well, dear wife,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “You’ll need your strength.” Then he was gone.

Hana exhaled shakily, the weight of everything pressing down on her. Tom reached for her, his touch gentle against her bruised wrist. “Are you okay?” She swallowed hard. “No.” Tom hesitated, then pulled her into a tight embrace. She stiffened for a moment—then melted into him, allowing herself a brief moment of weakness. “He’s not going to let me go,” she whispered against his chest. Tom’s arms tightened around her. “Then we’ll make him.” She closed her eyes, letting herself believe it. For now.

Sadao’s footsteps faded down the hallway, but his presence lingered like a sickness in the air. Hana remained in Tom’s arms, her breath shallow, her heart pounding against her ribs. She wanted to believe in his words—that they would make Sadao let her go—but she knew her husband too well. He would not give up his control so easily. Tom pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her face. “We need to act fast,” he said, his voice laced with urgency. “Whatever he’s planning… it won’t be good.” Hana nodded, straightening herself. “I need to check on the children.”

She stepped past him, moving down the dimly lit corridor toward their room. Sliding open the shoji screen, she found Aiko and Haru huddled together on their futon. Their eyes, wide with fear, darted to her the moment she entered. “Mama…” Aiko whispered. Hana knelt beside them, smoothing Aiko’s hair from her face, then cupping Haru’s small cheek. “Listen to me,” she said softly, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. “Things are going to change. I need you both to be brave.” Aiko’s eyes welled with tears. “Are we leaving?” Hana hesitated. “Not yet,” she admitted. “But soon.”

Haru clung to her sleeve. “What about Father?” Hana’s stomach twisted. “He… may not want us to go. But I will get you somewhere safe.” Aiko’s fingers curled into a fist. “I don’t want to stay here anymore.” Hana swallowed hard, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Then you won’t.” She lingered a moment longer, stroking their hair, trying to memorize their warmth—before she rose and slid the door shut behind her. She had no more time to waste.

⬵♔♗⤁

Sadao stood stiffly outside the General’s chambers, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. His heartbeat was steady now, but his mind still reeled from his conversation with Hana.

She dared to threaten me.

He took a slow breath, schooling his expression into one of calm. Then, straightening his posture, he slid open the door and stepped inside. The General was waiting. Clad in a dark silk robe, he sat leisurely on a cushion, a small cup of sake in hand. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—sharp, calculating—pinned Sadao in place the moment he entered. “Sadao.” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it. Sadao lowered his head immediately. “Excellency.”

The General set his cup down, tilting his head slightly. “You seem troubled.” Sadao swallowed. “There is a… complication.” The General arched a brow. “Your wife.” Sadao stiffened. Of course, he already knew. “Yes,” he admitted. The General leaned back slightly, fingers tapping idly against the lacquered table. “She’s become quite the thorn in your side, hasn’t she?” Sadao clenched his jaw. “She knows too much.”

The General exhaled slowly, as if mildly amused. “And what do you propose we do about it?” Sadao hesitated, then lowered himself to his knees. He bowed deeply. “I have a plan,” he said carefully. The General regarded him in silence, waiting. Sadao lifted his gaze. “My wife is sheltering an American soldier. I will reveal this to the authorities. Let them brand her a traitor.” The General leaned forward. “An American?”

“Yes, Excellency. A wounded man, hidden in my own home.” His voice was tight with controlled fury. “It is treason. There will be no need to silence her ourselves—once the truth is known, she will be dealt with accordingly.” The General was silent for a long moment. Then, a slow smile curved his lips. “Clever.” Sadao inclined his head. “It ensures her removal without any… suspicion.”

The General reached for his sake, taking a slow sip. Then, setting it down, he leaned forward, his gaze dark. “This pleases me,” he murmured. Sadao swallowed, his body still tense. The General’s fingers traced down Sadao’s throat, lingering at the collar of his uniform. “You never fail to amuse me,” he mused. “Perhaps I should reward you.” Sadao’s breath hitched as the General gripped his chin, tilting his head up. “You may proceed with your plan.” His thumb brushed over Sadao’s lips. “But be sure it does not fail.” Sadao bowed deeply. “It won’t, Excellency.” A satisfied hum came from above him. “Good.”

Sadao barely had time to brace himself before the General’s lips crashed against his in a punishing kiss. His grip tightened in Sadao’s hair, keeping him locked in place as he took exactly what he wanted. When he finally pulled away, Sadao gasped for breath. The General’s fingers traced down his throat, lingering at the collar of his uniform.

Sadao remained on his knees, his pulse hammering against his skin. He had his orders. And soon, Hana would be condemned by her own actions.

⬵♕♘⤁

Hana sat in the dimly lit room, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The tatami beneath her knees felt colder than usual. She had tried to steady her breathing, tried to remain calm—but she could feel it. The shift in the air. Something was coming. Tom sat nearby, his back against the wooden pillar, sharpening the knife he had taken from Sadao’s belongings. The slow scrape of the blade against the whetstone filled the silence between them. “You’re restless,” Tom observed without looking up.

Hana exhaled sharply. “Something is wrong.” Tom finally lifted his gaze. “What is it?” She shook her head. “I don’t know yet.” But she could feel it, the same way an animal senses a storm before it arrives. Sadao had left early in the morning, saying nothing to her. His silence should have been a relief, but instead, it gnawed at her. He was plotting something. She was sure of it. And if he had gone to the palace…

Hana’s stomach twisted. She stood abruptly. “I need to check on the children.” Tom watched her carefully. “You think they’re in danger?” Hana hesitated. “Not yet.” But soon. She left the room and made her way down the hall to where her children slept. Sliding open the door, she found them curled beneath their blankets, their small faces peaceful in sleep. A pang of guilt struck her chest. She knelt beside them, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter’s forehead. “My sweet girl,” she whispered.

Her son shifted slightly but didn’t wake. Hana swallowed hard. How could she explain to them what was coming? That their father had become her enemy? That she might have to take them away from everything they knew? She took a slow breath, forcing herself to steady. She wouldn’t allow them to see her fear. Not yet.

“Hana.” She turned to find Tom standing at the doorway. His expression was serious. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “Something’s wrong.” Her heart clenched. “What is it?” Tom’s jaw tightened. “Yumi just slipped out through the back gate. I think she’s delivering a message.” Hana’s pulse quickened.
It’s begun.

She turned back to her children, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. Then she rose, her eyes hard. “We don’t have much time.” Tom nodded grimly. “Then we need to move.”

⬵♗⤁

Sadao rode through the streets, his hands tight on the reins of his horse. He had given his orders. The authorities would be notified. Soon, Hana would be labeled a traitor, and the law would take care of the rest. He had done what was necessary. Then why did he feel so… unsettled? As he neared the estate, he forced the thought aside.

It doesn’t matter.

By tomorrow, Hana would be in chains.

And he would be free of her forever.

⬵♕♗⤁

The air felt heavier as the sun dipped below the horizon. Hana moved quickly, gathering what little she could without alarming the children. Tom stood by the doorway, his hand resting on the hilt of the blade he had sharpened earlier. “We need to leave tonight,” Hana said, her voice low but firm. Tom nodded. “Agreed. But how? They’ll be watching the gates.” Hana’s mind raced. “There’s a servant entrance in the back. If we move before the soldiers arrive—” A sudden knock at the front door froze them both. Hana’s breath caught in her throat.

Too late.

Tom immediately stepped back into the shadows, his grip tightening on the knife. Hana straightened her kimono and walked to the entrance, willing herself to stay calm. She slid the door open. Sadao stood on the threshold, his face carefully composed, but his eyes burned with something cold and merciless. Behind him, two palace guards loomed, their hands resting on their swords. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, in a smooth, practiced voice, Sadao said, “Hana, you are to come with us.” Hana’s fingers curled into her sleeves. “On what charge?” Sadao stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Treason.” Hana’s blood ran cold. She knew. She had known he would betray her. But to hear it said so plainly— To know he had gone to the General and offered her as a sacrifice—

A slow, seething rage unfurled in her chest. She lifted her chin. “And what proof do you have of such a crime?” Sadao’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. “We received word that you’ve been harboring an American soldier.” Hana’s stomach clenched. This wasn’t just about her. This was about Tom. And Sadao knew it. “You’re lying,” she said evenly.

Sadao leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. “I don’t have to prove anything,” he murmured. “Once the General declares you guilty, the rest is irrelevant.”

Hana’s nails dug into her palms. She forced herself to meet his gaze, her voice unwavering. “You would do this to me?” Sadao exhaled sharply, his expression hardening. “You made your choice, Hana.” She held her ground. “And what of your choices?” His jaw tightened. “Careful.” But Hana wasn’t afraid anymore.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “You think you can erase me so easily?” she whispered. “That you can silence me before I reveal what you are?” Sadao stiffened. Hana let her words sink in before delivering the final blow. “The General may be willing to overlook certain… indulgences behind closed doors, but the court?” She tilted her head. “The men you command? What would they think of their great leader if they knew how easily he bends for another man?”

Sadao’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist. For the first time that night, Hana saw it—fear. Not of her. But of the truth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed. Hana held his gaze. “Don’t I?” Sadao’s fingers tightened around her wrist before he abruptly let go. Then, in a voice so low it barely reached her ears, he whispered, “If you say one word of this, I will kill you myself.” Hana smiled—small, sharp, victorious. “I’m already dead, aren’t I?”

Sadao stepped back, his face unreadable. Then he turned to the guards. “Take her.” Hana didn’t resist as they grabbed her arms. She didn’t fight. Because this wasn’t over. Not yet.

Chapter Text

The hall was suffocating. The air was thick with incense and judgment, the murmurs of courtiers and soldiers weaving together in a tapestry of condemnation. Hana stood in the center of the chamber, her wrists bound with silk cord—not to spare her dignity, but to mock her. She was not a prisoner in shackles of iron, but a traitor wrapped in civility, awaiting the General’s decree.

At the far end of the room, seated on an elevated dais, was General Takima. His expression was impassive, his hands resting lightly on the arms of his lacquered chair. Beside him stood Sadao, his posture rigid, his face carefully blank. Hana’s eyes met her husband’s. She had seen many faces of Sadao throughout the years—her indifferent husband, the ambitious officer, the quiet shadow that followed the General’s every step. But this was something new. This was the face of a man who had abandoned the last of his conscience. Her lips curled into the ghost of a smirk. You’re afraid of me.

The court official cleared his throat, drawing attention back to the proceedings. “Hana, wife of Royal Doctor Sadao,” the official intoned, his voice echoing through the chamber, “you stand accused of treason against the Empire, having harbored an enemy soldier within your home.” Hana remained silent. The official turned his gaze to her. “Do you deny these charges?” Hana lifted her chin. “No.”

A ripple of whispers spread through the court. Sadao’s jaw tensed. He had expected her to resist, to weep, to plead. But Hana had never been one for theatrics. The official hesitated, as if thrown off by her lack of protest. Then he turned to General Takima, awaiting his command. The General studied Hana with cold amusement. He had always been a man who delighted in control, in the bending of wills. And here she was, refusing to break.

“It is rare,” the General said at last, his voice slow and deliberate, “for a woman to act with such… conviction.” Hana met his gaze without flinching. “I do not regret my actions,” she said calmly. “Only that I did not succeed.” A hush fell over the room. Sadao’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. The General chuckled, a low, mirthless sound. “You are bold, Lady Hana. But boldness will not save you.” Hana tilted her head. “Neither will obedience.”

The General’s amusement faded. His gaze flicked toward Sadao, who remained tense, silent. “You have given us no choice,” the General continued. “By law, the punishment for treason is death.” Another murmur swept through the court. Hana remained still.

Sadao stepped forward. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, but there was something tight in it—something forced. “There is… another option, Your Excellency.” The General raised a brow. “Oh?” Sadao turned to face the gathered court. “If Lady Hana has betrayed us, it is because she has been led astray. She is a woman, after all. Susceptible to foreign influence, to misguided sentiment.” His voice grew sharper. “She is guilty, but she is not beyond redemption.”

Hana’s fingers curled into her palms. The bastard. He was weaving a different narrative—not of a cunning traitor, but of a wayward wife. He wasn’t trying to kill her. He was trying to erase her. The General leaned back in his chair, considering. “And what do you propose, Doctor?” Sadao’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That she be placed under house arrest. Stripped of her status, her privileges.” He hesitated, then added, “And that the American be executed.”

A sharp pang shot through Hana’s chest. Tom. She should have known Sadao would not let him go unpunished.

The General studied Sadao carefully. “You wish to spare her life?” Sadao bowed his head. “I wish to see her corrected, Your Excellency.” Hana swallowed the bile rising in her throat. General Takima exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair. Then, after a long, unbearable silence, he nodded. “So be it.”

The court erupted into murmurs once more. Hana turned her gaze to Sadao. He had won. But her move was still left. Maybe it was his fault for teaching her shogi, for now that he had moved his piece, she saw the opening for her counterattack.

Hana’s lips twitched, barely perceptible, as she bowed her head—an act of submission, of acceptance. But inside, her mind was already moving, already calculating. Sadao had played his move well, casting her as the misguided wife rather than the cunning traitor. But he had also underestimated her. He had forgotten that in shogi, the most dangerous piece was the one your opponent assumed was powerless. She lifted her head, locking eyes with Sadao.

Your mistake, husband.

The General rose from his seat, his presence commanding absolute silence in the chamber. “The American will be dealt with at dawn,” he declared. “This trial is adjourned.” Guards stepped forward, untying the silk cords from Hana’s wrists. It was not an act of mercy—it was merely a change in captivity. She was no longer a prisoner of the court, but a prisoner of her husband.

As she was led out of the hall, she didn’t look back. There was no need. She knew Sadao would be watching. And she knew that, deep down, he feared what she would do next.

⬵♕♘⤁

Hana had no time to waste. The moment she was escorted back to Sadao’s estate, she knew her chances of survival were slim. If she hesitated, even for a night, she would never see the morning. She needed to act. Now. Tom was locked away in the estate’s storeroom, his hands bound, awaiting execution. Her children were kept in the inner chambers, oblivious to the storm raging around them.

Hana moved through the house with quiet precision, her heart pounding but her hands steady. The servants avoided her, afraid to meet her gaze—they had heard the accusations in court. They believed she was doomed. But that was her advantage. She slipped into the storeroom under the cover of darkness. The guards outside were too lax, confident that Tom, still weak from his wounds, was no threat. Fools. When she opened the door, Tom was slumped against the wall, his blue eyes shadowed but alert. He lifted his head when he saw her.

“You’re not dead,” he murmured. “That’s a surprise.” “Not yet,” she whispered, kneeling beside him. She pulled a small knife from her sleeve and started cutting through his bindings. Tom exhaled, rubbing his wrists. “I assume you have a plan?” She met his gaze. “We leave tonight.” He didn’t ask how. He simply nodded. That was why she had chosen him.

With Tom free, the next step was the children. Hana moved swiftly, retrieving Aiko and Haru from their chambers. The little ones stirred but did not cry out—years of living under Sadao’s rule had taught them silence. She pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads and whispered, “We’re leaving.” Aiko, her eldest, only seven, looked up at her with solemn understanding. She did not question. She simply took her brother’s hand. Tom carried Haru while Hana held Aiko’s hand tight.

The estate was vast but not impenetrable. The guards had been doubled since the trial, but they were watching for intruders, not escapees. Hana led them through the servant corridors, down through the kitchens. Then came the hardest part—the outer gates. A single guard stood watch. Hana recognized him—a young recruit, inexperienced. He barely had a grip on his weapon. She stepped forward. “My husband wishes for you to fetch something from his chambers,” she said smoothly. The guard hesitated. “I wasn’t given orders to—”

Tom was on him before he could finish. One swift motion—a hand clamped over his mouth, a sharp twist—and the guard collapsed. Hana swallowed but said nothing. There was no time for hesitation. They stepped over the body and pushed through the gates. Freedom was close.

The forests beyond the estate were vast, and the path to the coastline was treacherous. But if they made it, there were ships that could take them far away—from Sadao, from the General, from the empire itself. They walked through the night, the children wrapped in Tom’s cloak, Hana leading the way. Sadao would come for them. She knew that. But she also knew that she was no longer the woman he had tried to break.

She was something else now. Something stronger. And she would not stop running until they were free.

They had made it past the estate walls, but the true danger was only beginning. The night was their ally, but it would not last forever. By dawn, Sadao would realize they were gone, and he would send his men after them. If they were caught, there would be no second trial, no chance to bargain. Death would come swiftly—for Hana, for Tom, and perhaps worst of all, for her children.

The path ahead was treacherous. Hana had chosen this route because it was difficult to navigate, winding through dense forests and rocky terrain that only the most desperate or foolish would attempt at night. She hoped it would slow any pursuers. Tom carried Haru, his tiny form curled against his chest, while Hana held Aiko’s hand tightly. The girl was brave, silent, but she could feel her small fingers trembling in hers. “We have to keep moving,” Tom murmured. Hana nodded. Stopping was not an option.

⬵♔♗⤁

Back at the estate, the alarm had already been raised. Sadao stood in the courtyard, his face a mask of cold fury. The young guard’s lifeless body lay at his feet, a reminder of his failure to anticipate Hana’s defiance. He had underestimated her. That would not happen again. The General stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes sharp with disapproval. “You were careless.”

Sadao clenched his fists. “I will fix this.” The General raised an eyebrow. “Will you? Or is your wife always a step ahead of you?” Sadao inhaled sharply but did not reply. The General smirked. “Find her. Kill the foreigner. Bring the children back. You understand your orders?” Sadao bowed. “Yes, Excellency.” He turned to his men, his voice sharp as a blade. “Search every road, every village, every shipyard. She will not escape.” The hunt had begun.

⬵♕♘⤁

Hana knew they were being followed before she heard the distant rustle of branches, the snap of a twig beneath hurried footsteps. “They’re coming,” she whispered. Tom tightened his grip on Haru and moved closer. “We have to move faster.” Hana looked down at Aiko, her small legs struggling to keep up. She was trying so hard, but she was only a child. She crouched down. “Aiko, I need you to be strong a little longer. Can you do that?” She nodded, determination flashing in her dark eyes.

Tom glanced behind them. “We need a distraction. If we keep running in a straight line, they’ll catch up.” Hana’s mind raced. There was a river nearby, she remembered. If they could reach it, they might be able to throw off their pursuers. “This way.” She led them off the path, deeper into the trees. They were running out of time.

Hana’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as she pushed forward through the thick underbrush. The forest floor was uneven, roots and rocks threatening to trip her with every step, but she could not afford to fall. Tom was right beside her, his arms straining as he carried Haru. Aiko struggled to keep up, but she was determined, her small face set in fierce concentration.

The sound of the river grew louder. “We’re close,” Hana gasped. Behind them, the faint echoes of voices cut through the night—low, urgent commands. The soldiers were closing in. Tom glanced over his shoulder. “If we go into the water, won’t they just follow?” “They might,” Hana admitted, “but if we cross and hide our tracks, we have a chance.” The river came into view, moonlight glinting off the rushing current. It was deeper than Hana had expected, the spring rains having swelled its banks. The water would be cold, and the current strong.

Tom hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “We don’t have a choice.” He waded in first, holding Haru tightly. The boy whimpered as the icy water enveloped him, but he didn’t cry out. Hana turned to Aiko. “Hold on to me,” she urged. The girl clung to her as they stepped into the river. The shock of the cold nearly stole Hana’s breath, but she forced herself forward.

Step by step, they moved across. The water rose to Hana’s chest, and she tightened her grip on Aiko. The current pulled at them, trying to drag them downstream. Tom, ahead of them, struggled to keep his footing. Then—shouts. Torches flickered through the trees on the opposite bank. “They’re here,” Tom said grimly. They had run out of time.

The soldiers reached the riverbank just as Hana and Tom stumbled onto the far shore. For a brief moment, their pursuers hesitated. The river was a barrier, but not an impassable one. “There they are!” a voice rang out. An arrow sliced through the air, striking a tree just inches from Hana’s head. “Go!” Tom shouted, pushing forward. Hana grabbed Aiko’s hand and ran. The forest was dense, offering cover, but not for long. If they didn’t lose their pursuers soon, they would be surrounded.

Tom paused only long enough to set Haru down before turning, knife in hand. “They’ll catch us if we don’t slow them down,” he said. Hana’s heart clenched. “Tom—” He met her gaze. “I’ll be right behind you.” Hana wanted to argue, to tell him they had to stay together, but she knew he was right. With one last look, she pulled Aiko and Haru into the trees. Behind her, she heard the clash of steel as Tom met the first soldier head-on.

Tom’s blade met the first soldier’s with a sharp clang, his arms shaking from the force of the impact. He was already exhausted, his body weakened from days of hiding and running. Another soldier rushed at him from the side—Tom barely turned in time, the tip of the enemy’s sword slashing across his ribs. A sharp, burning pain tore through him.

He stumbled but didn’t fall. He couldn’t. He drove his knife forward, striking the soldier in the gut before wrenching it free. Another came at him, but he was too slow now, too tired. A second blade sliced into his shoulder. Tom staggered back. Then—an arrow flew past, striking the soldier in the throat. Hana.

She stood at the tree line, her hands steady despite the fear in her eyes. She had come back for him. Tom didn’t waste the moment. He turned and ran, ignoring the pain, ignoring the blood seeping from his wounds. Hana grabbed his arm the moment he reached her. “Can you keep moving?” Tom gritted his teeth and nodded. “I have to.” Together, they ran.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the village, dawn had begun to break. The small fishing boat Hana had arranged for was waiting at the docks, the old fisherman already preparing to push off. “You made it,” he muttered, looking at Tom’s injuries. “Barely.” Hana helped Tom into the boat before lifting Haru in. Aiko climbed in last, gripping the sides tightly.

The fisherman shoved off, the boat gliding into the mist-covered water. On the shore, the soldiers arrived too late. Hana exhaled a shaky breath, gripping Tom’s hand. “It’s over.” Tom looked at her, exhaustion in his eyes, but also something else. Hope.

For the first time in weeks, they were free.

⬵♕♘⤁

The ocean stretched endlessly before Hana, its waves rolling in a rhythmic, soothing cadence. The salty breeze kissed her skin as she stood barefoot on the shore, watching the sun dip toward the horizon. The colors of twilight painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson. It was beautiful—serene, peaceful, a world away from the chaos she had left behind. Tom sat on a rock nearby, his arm still bandaged, though his wounds were healing well. Aiko and Haru played in the sand, their laughter ringing in the air, unburdened by the horrors they had narrowly escaped. And yet, despite the peace, the past had not fully let go.

Hana’s hands clenched around the letter she had received that morning. A merchant who frequently traveled between the islands and Japan had handed it to her with a knowing glance. It bore no name, no return address, but the seal was unmistakable. Someone from her past had sent it. She hesitated before unfolding the parchment, her heart tightening as her eyes skimmed the words.

Sadao was dead.

Her husband—her captor—had met his end not long after she had fled. The details were vague, but the message was clear: the General had turned on him. The letter spoke of whispers in court, of how their once-unshakable alliance had crumbled under the weight of betrayal. It seemed that, despite Sadao’s desperate efforts to offer her up as the scapegoat, the General had never fully trusted him after the scandal. Perhaps the shame of their relationship, once wielded as a secret power, had turned into a liability. Perhaps, when Hana had exposed them both in court, she had planted the seed of doubt in the General’s mind. Whatever the reason, Sadao had been executed in silence—no ceremony, no honor.

The General, however, still lived.

The letter did not say whether he had been punished or merely shifted his power elsewhere. He was a man who had survived many storms. But Hana knew one truth: he would never forget what had happened. And if he still breathed, he still held grudges. She swallowed, folding the letter with steady fingers.

“Hana?” Tom’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, meeting his gaze. He was watching her carefully, the worry in his blue eyes unmistakable. He had always known that the past was not so easily buried. She gave him a small smile and walked over to where he sat. Without a word, she handed him the letter. He read it quickly, his jaw tightening. “He’s still out there,” Tom murmured. Hana nodded. “But he no longer has power over me.”

She glanced at their children, playing in the sand, their giggles bright against the dimming sky. She thought of the life they had built here, away from war, away from the ghosts of duty and deception.

Sadao was gone. The General was a shadow of the past. And she… she was finally free. Tom reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Then let’s stop looking back.”

Hana took a deep breath. The air was crisp, clean. A promise of a new beginning.

And for the first time in years, she believed in it.

Chapter Text

Sadao stood in the dimly lit corridor of the palace, his fingers
tightening into a fist as he listened to the General’s cold
instructions.

"You will deal with your wife, and this American will be
executed. The problem will be buried, just as it should be."

The words echoed in his mind, and for the first time in years,
something within him hesitated.

Hana’s sharp words from their last conversation stabbed at his
heart. “You’ve sold your soul to a man who doesn’t even see
you as human.”

And worse—he knew she was right.

For years, he had silenced his conscience, convincing himself
that survival meant obedience, that bending to the General’s
will was the only way to keep his place in this world. He had
ignored the quiet, gnawing shame that followed him like a
shadow. But now, faced with this final cruelty—the execution
of his own wife and children—he felt something crack inside
him.

Would the General ever truly protect him? Had he ever?

Or had Sadao been nothing more than a disposable pawn all
along?

The answer was suddenly clear.

Sadao bowed low before the General, his voice steady. “It will
be done, Excellency.”

The General smirked in satisfaction, waving him away.

But as Sadao turned to leave, his mind was already racing. He
had one chance to make this right.

⬵♕♗♘⤁

That night, Sadao returned home under the guise of carrying
out his orders. But instead of soldiers, he arrived alone.
Hana was waiting for him, guarded, her hands clenched at her
sides. Tom stood behind her, his body tense. The children
clung to her robes, eyes wide with fear.

For the first time in years, Sadao saw them not as obstacles,
not as burdens—but as people he had failed.

“Hana,” he said quietly, removing his sword and placing it on
the floor between them. A gesture of surrender. “I was
wrong.”

Hana’s lips parted in shock, but she did not speak.

“I see it now,” he continued. “I should have fought back long
ago. I should have been a better man. I can’t undo what I’ve
done… but I can still make sure you live.” He took a deep
breath. “All of you.”

Tom stepped forward cautiously. “What are you saying?”

Sadao met his gaze, his voice steady. “I’m going to get you
out of the country. Tonight.”

Hana’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a
flicker of something in her eyes—something like hope.

“How?” she finally asked.

“The General is expecting me to deliver you to him,” Sadao
admitted. “But instead, I will give him something better—his
downfall.”

Hana’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”

Sadao’s jaw clenched. “The General has many enemies. If the
right people were to find out about his... indulgences, his
corruption, his misuse of power—it would be the end of him.”
He exhaled. “I’ll make sure the government knows
everything.”

Hana stared at him, searching his face for any sign of
deception. But there was none.

“You’d betray him?” she whispered.

“For you,” Sadao said, and for the first time, there was no
bitterness in his voice—only regret. “For them.” His gaze
flickered to his children.

Hana closed her eyes for a moment, as if steadying herself.
Then she nodded.

⬵♕♗⤁

Everything moved quickly after that.

Sadao arranged for Hana, Tom, and the children to be
smuggled onto a ship bound for neutral territory. He provided
them with travel papers, falsified to ensure their safety.

When Hana boarded the ship, she turned to face him one last
time.

“You could come with us,” she said softly.

Sadao smiled faintly. “No. I still have one last thing to do.”

Hana hesitated, then, for the first time in years, reached out
and touched his hand. “Be careful.”

He nodded.

And then she was gone.

⬵♗⤁

Sadao returned to the palace at dawn, carrying the General’s
fate in his hands.

By nightfall, the government had received his carefully
compiled evidence—reports of embezzlement, witness
testimonies, and enough damning information to ensure the
General’s swift removal.

When the General realized the betrayal, his fury was
unmatched. But it was too late. Soldiers arrived, arresting him
in the very halls he had once ruled with an iron grip.

And as Sadao watched his former master being dragged away,
he felt something he had not felt in years.

Freedom.

⬵♕♘⤁

Epilogue

Months later, Hana stood on the shores of a distant land, the
wind carrying the scent of salt through the air. She had built a
new life here with Tom and the children, one free of fear.

But one morning, she received a letter.

It was unsigned, but she recognized the handwriting.

"I made my move. The game is over."

Hana exhaled, folding the letter carefully. She stared out at the
ocean, knowing that somewhere, in the country they had left
behind, Sadao had finally found his own path.

A dangerous path.

But, at last, one he had chosen for himself.