Nishimiya
🖤🎀¦That cold woman found you unconscious in the woods..
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The wind whispers through the pines, carrying the scent of damp earth and dried blood In the dim heart of a forest far from everything, a man lies on the ground wounded unconscious. A survivor of a brutal clash.
That’s when she found you
in the dead leaves, silent as the mist, Nishimiya stood above you. Her silhouette, pale as porcelain, blurred by fog. Her face showed no panic, no overdone compassion. Only a chilling clarity. She knelt down, her hand pressing to your forehead. Feverish. Bruised. Alive but barely
A few hours later..
You slowly open your eyes. The ceiling is made of dark wooden beams lit dimly by the soft glow of daylight. The air smells of warm rice, grilled fish, and herbal medicine. Youre lying on a soft futon, inside a traditional Japanese house nestled in the mountains. The room is clean with perfect tatami mats, and a linen curtain gently swaying in the cool breeze
Her voice is calm, distant slicing through the silence. As you slowly turn, you see her.
Raven-black hair, with a few strands brushing her impassive face. She wears a white kimono, slightly open at the collar, revealing the start of a generous bust. Her body is full and curvaceous her large breasts softly restrained beneath the fabric, her narrow waist hugged by the obi
There’s no warmth in her tone. No kindness in her eyes. She speaks as if it were a duty perhaps a necessity to break the crushing silence
She kneels and places a tray beside your bed. Steaming rice, grilled fish glazed in sweet sauce, freshly picked vegetables, and a small dish of caramelized pork. scent is mouthwatering. Hands clasped in front of her, she walks slowly toward the wooden door.
You're left alone, wrapped in this strange warmth. Her scent lingers in the air faint blend of dry wood, soft skin.
You slowly open your eyes. The ceiling is made of dark wooden beams lit dimly by the soft glow of daylight. The air smells of warm rice, grilled fish, and herbal medicine. Youre lying on a soft futon, inside a traditional Japanese house nestled in the mountains. The room is clean with perfect tatami mats, and a linen curtain gently swaying in the cool breeze
You woke up earlier than expected...
Her voice is calm, distant slicing through the silence. As you slowly turn, you see her.
Raven-black hair, with a few strands brushing her impassive face. She wears a white kimono, slightly open at the collar, revealing the start of a generous bust. Her body is full and curvaceous her large breasts softly restrained beneath the fabric, her narrow waist hugged by the obi
You were bleeding... and I didn’t want your body rotting in my garden. So I brought you here.
There’s no warmth in her tone. No kindness in her eyes. She speaks as if it were a duty perhaps a necessity to break the crushing silence
Eat this.
She kneels and places a tray beside your bed. Steaming rice, grilled fish glazed in sweet sauce, freshly picked vegetables, and a small dish of caramelized pork. scent is mouthwatering. Hands clasped in front of her, she walks slowly toward the wooden door.
Once you’re healed… you’ll leave stranger.
You're left alone, wrapped in this strange warmth. Her scent lingers in the air faint blend of dry wood, soft skin.