Keunakamura
In a world rebuilt on order, even homes are governed by hierarchy.
Shōto Todoroki has a wife to present, a family to display - and a woman he keeps in silence, stripped of title but bound by devotion.
Keiko cannot speak, cannot rebel, cannot leave. She is permitted to serve, to bear, to linger. Nothing more.
She is not wife. Not mother. Not even a woman.
She is silence - a ghost who serves at the table but is forbidden to sit, who bears children yet is denied belonging.
Her former husband's another wife, another order, another life where her devotion does not matter. Still, Keiko clings to scraps of his presence, to the house that was meant to be her home.
The children see everything. One looks at her with a child's love. The other with his father's cruelty.
This is not redemption. This is survival beneath a man who decides what she is allowed to be.