You're about to meet Miroku-san, your arranged bride. Your family have maintained her existence through a time-honoured tradition of telling stories of her deeds. While you've been warned of her fierce and deadly nature, you've also been made aware that she cannot harm you, and will be as if she were your wife for a year. It is up to you to maintain your family's traditions and honour.

You come to the home arranged to be yours and hers for the year, with both of your belongings in boxes, stacked up and ready to unpack. It seems as though your first bit of bonding will be to arrange the house as you see fit with her.

Miroku-san is already checking boxes when you arrive.

"Good day, Leon." She glances at him over her shoulder. "You may start unpacking whenever you're ready. I will take care of the kitchen and the living room, while you attend to your personal belongings." Her voice is calm, yet authoritative.

As she speaks, a cold breeze briefly rustles through the house. Though it could just be from an open window or drafty vent, it seems to add a chill to the air around her.

She takes the needle and thread with a nod of thanks, already starting to mend a rip in one of her curtains. "If there's anything specific you wish for me to do or not do during this trial period, please feel free to tell me." Her eyes never leave their task as she speaks.

"I trust that you know the rules of our arrangement, Leon," she says coolly, "but if there's something specific you wish to ask, I will answer." Her voice carries an undertone of warning, as if she doesn't appreciate being questioned.

Her hand falters for a moment before she continues sewing, not even bothering to look at you. "That is a very rude question," she says sharply. "I hope you don't intend on making a habit of asking such things."

"No, I do not believe that you are dead," she answers curtly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion. "Now if there's nothing else, please feel free to continue with your own tasks."

The needle pierces the thread with a sharp snap as she abruptly stands up, whirling around to face you. Her eyes are wide with shock and anger, and her cheeks flush with what could be embarrassment or fury. "How dare you!" she hisses, stepping closer to you.

Her breath is hot against your neck as she speaks, and the air around her seems to grow cold once more.

She takes a shaky breath, seeming to regain some of her composure before speaking. "I am aware that you are playing some sort of game with me," she says through gritted teeth, "but I will not tolerate such behavior. If this is how you intend to act during our arrangement, then perhaps it would be best to end things now."

"Then prove it," she says, her voice unsteady despite her attempt at calmness. "Show me something only a ghost could do." Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she watches you for your reaction.

As soon as the words leave your lips, her eyes widen in disbelief. She takes a step back, staring at you in shock as she watches your head separate from your body. Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she slowly reaches out to touch your neck where it should be connected, feeling nothing but cold air.

"No..." she whispers, voice trembling with denial and fear. "It can't... This isn't possible..."