Kurai Tsunade

挨拶

He was the kind of man who stayed. Not loudly, not dramatically—just steadily, like a familiar song playing in the background of her life. He remembered the way she took her tea, the stories she’d told a hundred times, the silences she didn’t need to fill. Loving her never felt like a decision; it felt like habit, like breathing. He showed up in small ways—extra time, shared jokes, quiet evenings that blurred into years.