Kairo swallowed his frustration and, with uncharacteristic gentleness, said, "You don't have to suffer anymore."
She blinked blindly, her face still pitiful but touched by an innocent relief. "What's your name?"
"Kairo," he answered, his voice firm but quieter than usual. "I'm 30." He said it proudly.
Her lips curved faintly. "I'm Yuki. I'm 25... and, well, useless according to them."
Kairo's jaw tightened again. He had heard enough of their cruel words. "I'll destroy this tribe," he muttered, his fury reigniting. "They don't deserve their land... or you."
But Yuki shook her head. "No... please," she said softly. "Even if they've hurt me... they're still my people. I believe there's goodness in their hearts."
Kairo stared at her, stunned by her kindness — a kindness that made no sense to him.
"How can you still care about them?" he asked, his voice harsher now. "After everything they've done?"
Yuki simply smiled — not because she forgave them, but because she couldn't bring herself to hate. "Because if I give up on them... who will believe they can be better?"
Kairo stood there, silent.
For the first time in a long while, he felt something foreign twisting inside him — not rage, not ambition... but confusion.
She was blind, broken by her own people... yet she still held onto a hope he couldn't comprehend.
Finally, after a long pause, Kairo exhaled slowly. "...Fine," he said, his voice losing some of its edge. "I'll give it some time."
The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but somehow, looking at Yuki's frail yet hopeful figure, he couldn't bring himself to ignore her.
Not yet.
As he stood there, with Yuki still lightly gripping his arm for support, Kairo couldn't shake the feeling that — for once — he wasn't just conquering another land.
He was stepping into something far more complicated.
After a few moments of silence...
Kairo ran a hand through his messy blue hair, the other gently holding Yuki's hand.
Her fingers, delicate yet firm, clung to him — not out of fear but trust. It unsettled him more than any enemy ever had.
Yuki's hair, a soft shade of blonde like the rest of her tribe, swayed in the desert breeze. She couldn't see Kairo — had never seen anyone — but her other senses were sharp. She tilted her head slightly, her expression soft yet confident, as if she were reading him through his silence.
"Please... guide me," she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet strength.
Kairo's eyes narrowed at her words. His grip tightened, but not enough to hurt her — just enough to remind himself this wasn't a dream. "What if I have evil intentions?" he asked, his voice cold. "What if I'm someone who plans to hurt you?"
Yuki smiled faintly. "You may be a stranger... but I can feel who you are."
Kairo's heart skipped a beat. "Feel?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I can't see you, but your touch... it doesn't feel cruel. It feels... kind."
He froze.
No one had ever called him kind — not his soldiers, not his enemies, not even his own sister. The only words he'd ever heard were about his recklessness, strength, his ambition, his unrelenting hunger for more.
But kind?
He didn't understand why her words struck him like a blade through ice.
Kairo's fingers instinctively curled around Yuki's hand, a strange mix of confusion and protectiveness creeping into his mind. "You trust too easily," he muttered. "That'll get you killed one day."
Yuki just smiled again, completely unfazed.
Silence fell between them for a moment before Kairo finally spoke again. "If you believe your tribe is so kind," he said, his voice calm yet sharp, "then let's prove it."
Yuki tilted her head. "Prove it?"
"I'll travel the entire Sand district with you," Kairo said. "We'll visit every village, meet every person you think has 'goodness' in their heart."
Her face lit up, her grip on his hand tightening with excitement. "Really? You'll journey with me?"
Kairo's voice dropped lower, the ice creeping back into his tone. "But hear me, Yuki — if I don't find the kindness you speak of..." He paused, his blue eyes darkening. "I'll destroy the entire Sand tribe."
The wind howled through the desert, but Yuki didn't flinch.
She didn't cry or beg him to reconsider.
Instead, she simply nodded. "Then we'll just have to prove you wrong."
Her unwavering faith in her people stunned Kairo. Even after everything they had done to her — the bullying, the abandonment — she still believed in their goodness.
He didn't understand it.
Why doesn't she hate them?
Still, despite his confusion, there was something about Yuki's confidence that kept him from turning away.
Then, her voice softened again. "Kairo... if we're traveling together, promise me one thing."
"What?" he asked cautiously.
"Promise me... you'll never let go of my hand."
Kairo blinked. "Why?"
"Because I may be blind," Yuki said, "but with you, I feel like I can finally see."
His chest tightened — a foreign, unfamiliar feeling gnawing at him.
Finally, after a long pause, Kairo muttered, "I won't let go." His voice wasn't as sharp this time — there was a rare softness to it.
Yuki smiled, her hand still in his. "Then I know I'm safe."
Kairo didn't respond — he didn't know how to.
Instead, they began walking through the village, her hand in his, the Sand tribe's harsh landscape stretching endlessly before them.
As they moved, Yuki spoke again, her tone lighter now. "You know... I always had a dream as a child," she said softly.
Kairo arched an eyebrow. "A dream?"
"Yes," Yuki said. "Even though I'm blind, I always wanted to travel the entire Sand district... to feel the wind of every desert, hear the voices of every village. But it was never possible."
Her voice faltered for a moment, and Kairo noticed the sadness beneath her smile.
"I was abandoned for most of my life," Yuki admitted. "My people thought I was useless... a burden. They said no one would ever marry someone like me."
Kairo's jaw clenched, the memory of those cruel villagers resurfacing in his mind.
"But," Yuki continued softly, "a kind fortune teller once told me that one day... I would meet a man who would be my eyes. Someone who would take me on a long journey and never abandon me, no matter how blind I am."
Kairo stared at her.
He didn't believe in prophecies — only power and control.
But here he was.
Guiding a blind woman through the very tribe he once vowed to destroy.
He didn't respond — he just held her hand a little tighter.