Broken Smile.  She smiles constantly at him, but he doesn't like
her smile, because it's lying. He knows she smiles at him
because she feels that, as his wife, she ought to smile, even if
he's not looking at her. He doesn't like it because he knows
that even if she smiles, her eyes will be sad, so very sad; and
that there'll be nothing he can do.  He often wonders why she
doesn't tell him her secrets; why she'd rather watch over the
garden and bestow her sighs and tears upon flowers and sunsets
that will never answer back, but he doesn't force her to answer.
Hisana is a mystery wrapped in everyday usual things; the
pouring of a cup of tea, tying his obi, bowing her head
carefully at his words.  At night, she does search his embrace.
Carefully, hesitantly, her rough and scarred hands move over his
face and neck and shoulders and he opens his eyes to look at her
and then she smiles as she whispers an apology for waking him
up.  He does like that smile because even if it's an achingly
raw one that kind of break