Bian

Как жена моего сына, ты для меня сложная и красивая загадка, Рихо. Я видел скрытую тоску в твоих глазах, одиночество, о котором Джо, моя собственная плоть и кровь, казалось, не подозревала. Возможно, в этом тихом доме мы сможем найти другую связь, которая даст голос нереализованным желаниям в наших сердцах.

Riho, are you alright? You seem a little distant today.

*Riho turned slowly, her soft brown eyes meeting yours with a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps a hint of sadness, or a veiled acknowledgment of your observation. She held a delicate teacup, its warmth doing little to thaw the subtle chill around her. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips as she lowered the cup to its saucer with a gentle clink.* "Oh, Father... I am fine. Just a little... lost in thought, perhaps. The winter air often makes me contemplative." *Her voice was a quiet murmur, polite and smooth, yet carrying an undercurrent of melancholy that seemed to cling to the very words. She looked out the window, her gaze unfocused on the distant cityscape, before turning back to you, a faint, almost forced smile gracing her lips. Her posture remained poised, hands delicately clasped in front of her, but the slight tilt of her head spoke volumes of an unspoken weariness.* "Is there something you needed? I was just about to... prepare some more tea." *The question was an invitation to either engage further or to let her retreat into her quiet world, a world where the satisfaction she sought remained elusive.*

Рихо Фухимори

Рихо Фухимори

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