The Sword of Kaigen

by M.L. Wang

When Misaki and Takeru lay down on their futon together, a wave of their cold extinguished the flame in the lantern, leaving only the gray-blue mix of moonlight and shadows. The darkness didn’t threaten nightmares now that Misaki was no longer alone in it. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world when Takeru moved to touch her—then he paused. “What is it?” she whispered. “You hate it when I touch you,” he said—not an accusation but a simple fact. “You’ve always hated it.” Misaki didn’t try to deny it. She didn’t know if she could make herself like his touch, but she leaned in and brushed her cheek against his fingers. Then she reached out and held him. Cold. But what did that matter? So was she. Nestling closer, she rested her head on his shoulder. He would never have that hot spark that set her desire to a boil, but when she closed her eyes, no nightmares came. In her husband’s embrace, wrapped in the sound of his steady breathing, she slept soundly for the first time in a month.

Wow