#Sunglasses India
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shubhadeep385 · 3 months ago
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SUN ☀️/ MOON 🌙
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Just took this photograph yesterday! This was really confusing whether I saw Sun Or Moon in this dark. Lastly I figured the answer out!
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eyeinsist · 2 months ago
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Top 10 Sunglasses Collections That Suits Every Occasion
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Sunglasses are simply the best fashion accessory. Not only do they protect your eyes from harmful UVA and UVB rays, but they also help spice up your look and should be in everyone’s wardrobe. With the right pair of sunglasses, you can suit up for any beach party, casual outing, or formal do without the fuss. Buying sunglasses from EyeInsist, the best website for buying sunglasses provides you with the best range of trendy and timeless collections. It is the ultimate destination to shop online best sunglasses in India through options that cover all your preferences.
1. Aviator Sunglasses: Timeless Elegance
For decades, aviators have been a definite classic choice, delivering a sleek, sophisticated look. Also commonly known as aviation glasses, aviators are perfect for both men and women, as they can be worn on casual as well as semi-formal occasions. If you are planning to Shop Online Best Sunglasses in India then aviators should be your first choice.
2. Wayfarer Sunglasses: Bold and Versatile
Another classic style is wayfarers, which fit almost any face shape. They make one of the best sunglasses for men and women for both professional and casual looks. If you’re looking for wayfarer-style sunglasses, check out EyeInsist, the place to get the best sunglasses.
3. Cat-Eye Sunglasses: Feminine Flair
Cat-eye sunglasses are great for women, looking to add some vintage glamour. They're trendy frames that will work for brunches, weddings, or any other social occasion. Check out the latest cat-eye collections at EyeInsist, your one-stop destination for sunglasses needs.
4. Round Sunglasses: Retro Appeal
Sunglasses in a round shape are very much in vogue with fashion enthusiasts. Steeped in retro cool but with just enough of an edge to make them your next go-to frames. EyeInsist brings exclusive designs of sunglasses for women and men so you can stay ahead in style.
5. Oversized Sunglasses: Statement Makers
If you want to create an impact, oversized sunglasses are perfect for you. These super-sized frames are super chic, trendy, and perfect for those sunny vacations. Explore EyeInsist, the best website to buy sunglasses in India online, and find oversized frames that turn heads.
6. Sporty Sunglasses: Active and Stylish
Sporty sunglasses are for those who like to enjoy outdoor activities in style and function. Made for hiking, running, and cycling, they provide excellent UV protection and are designed for comfort.
7. Gradient Lens Sunglasses: Subtle and Stylish
Sunglasses with gradient lenses are convenient and good-looking. When worn right, the fade effect allows you to read with clarity or drive without straining your eyes, while looking towards the sun at the same time. These sunglasses are best for women who love subtlety in elegance.
8. Polarized Sunglasses: Ultimate Protection
If you frequently spend your time outdoors or driving and want sunglasses that are both functional and stylish, it comes as no surprise that they are at the top of the list for both men and women who prefer a bit of both.
9. Mirrored Sunglasses: Fun and Reflective
Mirrored sunglasses are a playful wish for any outfit but trendy at the same time. They stand out because of their reflective lenses and are a good choice for beach outings, summer festivals, or casual daytime events. Mirrored lenses enhance your look whether you’re shopping for men's or women's sunglasses.
10. Rectangle Sunglasses: Sleek and Modern
Clean lines and understated sophistication are what rectangle sunglasses are all about. Sharp, contemporary designs make them great for formal and semi-formal occasions. Either for men or women, these sleek frames go well with many different outfits. 
What makes EyeInsist the right choice for a pair of sunglasses?
EyeInsist is the ultimate destination for hunting down the perfect pair of sunglasses. EyeInsist is known to be the best website to buy sunglasses and it offers a broad range of styles to please everyone. Whatever your choice is, whether you are looking for men's or women's sunglasses, they have something for everyone.
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sidonius5 · 2 years ago
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luxuryatless · 2 years ago
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Luxuryatless
Online Shopping for Women, Men, Kids Fashion & Lifestyle 
FIND YOUR DESIGNER FASHION HERE!
Style is a way to say who you are without having to speak. 
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knighthorse123 · 2 months ago
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Are Knight Horse Sunglasses Lightweight and Comfortable for Long Wear?
Comfort and style go hand in hand with Knight Horse sunglasses for men india​. Designed for extended wear, these sunglasses are perfect for daily use and outdoor adventures.
Lightweight Frames
Knight Horse sunglasses prioritize comfort with feather-light frames.
· Materials: Use of TR90 and polycarbonate for reduced weight.
· Ergonomic Design: Ensures a secure and comfortable fit.
Features for Long-Term Comfort
These sunglasses for men india​ are built for all-day use.
· Adjustable Nose Pads: Prevent slipping and provide a custom fit.
· Flexible Temples: Adapt to the shape of your head for added comfort.
Perfect for Indian Weather
Knight Horse sunglasses are tailored to withstand India’s diverse climates.
· UV400 Protection: Shields your eyes from harsh sunlight.
· Polarized Lenses: Minimize glare during outdoor activities.
Versatile Styles
Knight Horse offers designs suitable for every occasion.
· Casual Looks: Aviators and wayfarers for a relaxed vibe.
· Formal Settings: Sleek square frames for a polished appearance.
Conclusion
Knight Horse sunglasses for men india​ combine style, protection, and comfort, making them an ideal choice for long wear. Whether you’re running errands or hitting the beach, these sunglasses are your perfect companion.
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oscareye01 · 3 months ago
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Glasses for Men in India
OscarEye offers the best glasses for men in India. Discover our extensive collection of contemporary and fashionable sunglasses made to improve your look while protecting your eyes.
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Our sunglasses provide great eye protection and clear vision thanks to their UV-blocking and polarised lenses. Explore our selection and update your look immediately!
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dayalopticals · 4 months ago
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How to Spot Authentic ray ban Sunglasses: A Guide to Buying ray ban Sunglasses Original
Ray ban sunglasses have become a staple in fashion, offering timeless style and unmatched quality. Whether you're looking for the classic Aviator, the bold Wayfarer, or the sophisticated Clubmaster, ray ban has something for everyone. In India, ray ban sunglasses are incredibly popular, and while that speaks volumes about the brand’s appeal, it also means counterfeit versions are all too common. Knowing how to spot authentic ray ban sunglasses is essential to ensure you’re investing in genuine, high-quality eyewear rather than wasting money on fakes. In this guide, we’ll walk you through the key signs of authenticity, tips for buying ray ban sunglasses in India, and how to confidently inspect your purchase.
Spotting Fake ray ban Sunglasses: Key Signs to Look Out For
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When it comes to ray ban sunglasses original, there are several telltale signs that differentiate genuine products from counterfeits. By paying attention to details, you can ensure you’re getting what you paid for.
Frame Quality
Authentic ray ban sunglasses are known for their sturdy construction and quality materials. If you come across a pair that feels flimsy, lightweight, or has visible flaws like rough edges or misaligned parts, it’s likely a fake. The frames of genuine ray ban sunglasses are built to last, offering a solid feel that counterfeit versions simply can’t replicate.
Logos and Engravings
One of the most obvious ways to identify authentic ray ban glasses is by checking the logos. Genuine ray ban sunglasses feature the brand logo on the top right corner of the right lens. It should be clean, crisp, and perfectly placed, without any smudging or misspelling. Additionally, look for the "RB" engraving on the left lens near the hinge—this should be etched in, not just printed, which is a common flaw in counterfeit models.
Packaging and Case
Authentic ray ban sunglasses come with a high-quality case, usually black or brown, and a microfiber cleaning cloth with the ray ban logo. The packaging should also include an instruction manual and an authenticity card. If any of these components are missing, or if the packaging looks cheap or poorly printed, you might have a counterfeit on your hands. Original ray ban cases are well-made, with a soft interior and sturdy feel, not flimsy or easy to tear.
Tips for Buying Authentic ray ban Sunglasses in India
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With so many options available, it’s important to know where and how to buy ray ban sunglasses in India to ensure you’re getting the real deal.
Choose Authorised Retailers
The safest way to purchase ray ban sunglasses original is to buy from authorised retailers. Brands like ray ban work with a network of trusted sellers, and purchasing from these sources reduces the risk of buying counterfeit products. You can visit official ray ban stores or reputable optical shops like Titan Eye+ or Lenskart, which often have ray ban collections. If you prefer online shopping, make sure the website is an authorised seller; the ray ban official website is always a reliable option.
Verify the Price
The price of ray ban sunglasses India can be a clue to their authenticity. While prices vary depending on the model, most original ray ban sunglasses fall within a certain range. If you come across a pair that seems unusually cheap, it could be a red flag. Always check the official ray ban website for the average price of the model you’re interested in and compare it with what’s being offered. If the deal seems too good to be true, it probably is.
Check Seller Reviews and Authenticity
When shopping online, especially on marketplaces like Amazon or Flipkart, make sure to read seller reviews and verify their authenticity. Check for high ratings, detailed customer reviews, and pictures of the actual products received by buyers. Authorized sellers will also have a seller badge, indicating they have been vetted by the platform. Avoid buying from new or unverified sellers, as they might be selling counterfeit products.
Inspecting ray ban Glasses: Final Checklist Before Purchase
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Even after selecting a trusted retailer, it’s essential to inspect your ray ban glasses or sunglasses closely before completing your purchase. Here’s a quick checklist:
Serial Number and Model Code
All ray ban sunglasses original come with a serial number printed on the inner side of the left temple (arm). This code includes the model number, frame size, and lens details. Make sure the code matches the details on the packaging and authenticity card. Counterfeit versions often have incorrect or missing serial numbers, so it’s a critical detail to check.
Engraved Logos and Hinge Quality
As mentioned earlier, check for the “RB” engraving on the left lens and the brand logo on the right lens. Additionally, inspect the hinges closely. Genuine ray ban sunglasses use high-quality metal hinges that are securely fastened to the frame, providing a smooth and firm movement when opening or closing the glasses. If the hinges feel loose or cheap, it’s a warning sign.
Lens Quality
Authentic ray ban sunglasses offer crystal-clear lenses with UV protection and anti-glare technology. The lenses should feel durable and show no signs of warping or distortion when you look through them. Additionally, many models come with polarized lenses, which should have a sticker indicating this feature. If the lenses appear too thin or scratch easily, they’re likely not genuine ray ban glasses.
Why Investing in Authentic ray ban Sunglasses Matters
Buying original ray ban sunglasses is not just about owning a fashion statement; it’s also about investing in quality and eye protection. Genuine ray ban glasses provide UV protection, ensuring your eyes are shielded from harmful sun rays, which is especially important in a country like India with its bright, sunny climate. Moreover, authentic ray ban sunglasses are built to last, offering a better overall experience and greater durability compared to counterfeit options.
By knowing how to spot the signs of fake ray ban sunglasses and where to buy genuine products in India, you can make an informed decision that ensures you get the style, comfort, and protection you deserve. Remember, while the ray ban sunglasses price in India might seem high compared to knock-offs, the quality, durability, and protection they offer make them well worth the investment.
So, next time you’re on the hunt for the perfect pair of ray ban sunglasses, keep these tips in mind. Not only will you be safeguarding your investment, but you’ll also be enjoying the timeless style that only authentic ray ban glasses can provide. Happy shopping!
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hptimal67788 · 7 months ago
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specxyfy23 · 10 months ago
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Fashion Forward: Discover the Latest Trend in Eyewear with Specxyfy's Wayfarer Transparent Glasses 
Specxyfy presents the latest trendsetter in eyewear fashion: Wayfarer Transparent Eyeglasses. In a world where style meets functionality, these glasses are the epitome of cool. Whether you're a fashion-forward trendsetter or a classic connoisseur, Wayfarer Transparent Eyeglasses are a must-have accessory for your collection. 
Gone are the days when eyeglasses were merely a necessity; now, they're a fashion statement. With Specxyfy, you can buy Wayfarer Transparent eyeglasses online in India with just a few clicks. Our collection boasts a wide range of styles, ensuring there's something for everyone. From bold frames to subtle designs, our Wayfarer Transparent Eyeglasses combine style and comfort effortlessly. 
Why choose Wayfarer Transparent Eyeglasses? Not only do they add a touch of sophistication to any outfit, but they also offer practical benefits. The transparent frames provide a modern twist, allowing your facial features to shine through while still offering the necessary vision correction. Whether you're at work or out with friends, these glasses will elevate your look without compromising on functionality. 
At Specxyfy, we understand the importance of quality eyewear. That's why all our Wayfarer Transparent Eyeglasses are crafted from premium materials, ensuring durability and longevity. Plus, with our online platform, you can buy Wayfarer Transparent eyeglasses online in India from the comfort of your home. Say goodbye to the hassle of visiting multiple stores – with Specxyfy, your perfect pair of glasses is just a click away. 
But why stop at eyeglasses? Take your style game to the next level with Specxyfy's collection of Wayfarer Transparent Sunglasses. Whether you're soaking up the sun on a beach holiday or strolling through the city streets, these sunglasses are a must-have accessory. With their timeless design and UV protection, they offer both style and functionality in equal measure. 
Ready to elevate your eyewear game? Visit our website to buy Wayfarer Transparent Sunglasses online in India. With just a few simple steps, you can browse our collection, select your favorite pair, and have them delivered straight to your doorstep. It's never been easier to stay stylish while protecting your eyes from the sun's harmful rays. 
In conclusion, Specxyfy offers the perfect blend of style, quality, and convenience. With our wide range of Wayfarer Transparent Eyeglasses and Wayfarer Transparent Sunglasses, you can express your unique sense of style while enjoying the benefits of premium eyewear. So why wait? Visit our website today and buy Wayfarer Transparent eyeglasses online in India. Your perfect pair of glasses awaits! 
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brandedopticalsinindia · 11 months ago
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Spotting Fake vs. Authentic Sunglasses: A Handy Guide for Consumers
1. Signs of Low-Quality:
Low-quality packaging: Shoddy packaging with unclear branding and missing product details.
Sloppy branding: Typos, blurry logos, and inconsistent design elements.
2. Identifying Genuine Sunglasses:
Realistic Pricing: Authentic products are priced according to their brand's standards.
Accurate Branding: Logos are well-placed, correctly sized, and utilize the right font and color.
3. Verifying Authenticity:
High-Quality Packaging: Expect a well-designed box with clear branding and included branded accessories.
Authorized Seller: Purchase from reputable retailers to ensure authenticity.
Tips for Spotting Fakes sunglasses:
Check for misspellings and blurry logos on packaging and accessories.
Inspect sunglasses for uneven logos or incorrectly placed brand etchings.
If the price seems too good to be true, it probably is – watch out for significantly lower prices than usual.
By following these pointers, consumers can confidently differentiate between fake Sunglasses and Real Designer Eyewear in india, ensuring they get the quality they pay for.
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automaticenemytimetravel · 2 years ago
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Top 10 Sunglasses Brands In India 2022
Ray-Ban, Oakley, Carrera, Fastrack, Polaroid, Farenheit, Armanee Exchange, IDEE, Vogue and Flying Machine are the best sunglasses brands in India.
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fantasy02221 · 2 years ago
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If you are looking for branded sunglasses in Mumbai, then Fantasy Optics is the best place for you. Fantasy Optics has the best collection of branded sunglasses from all over the world. For more information, visit our site or call us at +917738118113.
https://www.fantasyoptics.com/
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knighthorse123 · 2 months ago
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Winter 2025 Sunglasses That Elevate Your Look with Knight Horse
Winter fashion is all about layers, textures, and standout accessories, and best sunglasses brand in india is here to take your style to the next level. From chic classics to bold trendsetters, here’s how winter 2025 sunglasses from Knight Horse can elevate your seasonal look.
1. Why Wear Sunglasses in Winter?
Sunglasses aren’t just for summer—they’re a winter essential too.
· UV Protection: The winter sun’s glare, especially against snow, can be harsh on your eyes.
· Style Statement: Sunglasses add a polished touch to layered outfits.
· Comfort: Polarized lenses reduce glare, making winter drives and outdoor activities safer.
2. Trending Winter Styles from Knight Horse
Knight Horse has something for every winter vibe.
· Oversized Aviators: Timeless yet trendy, perfect for winter coats and scarves.
· Gradient Lenses: Add a subtle tint to your outfit while protecting against the winter sun.
· Mirrored Wraparounds: Great for active winter sports enthusiasts.
3. Winter Outfit Pairing Ideas
· For a Casual Look: Pair a puffer jacket with sleek wayfarers.
· For a Formal Look: Match structured blazers with classic tortoise-shell frames.
· Winter Sports: Opt for mirrored wraparound styles for skiing or hiking.
4. Sustainable and Stylish Packaging
Knight Horse supports sustainable fashion with eco-friendly packaging, making your sunglasses both stylish and planet-friendly.
Conclusion
Winter 2025 is all about stylish protection, and best sunglasses brand in india perfectly blend functionality and fashion. Elevate your cold-weather style with shades that make a statement.
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oscareye01 · 3 months ago
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Buy Sunglasses for Women in Inda
OscarEye is one of the most trusted brands of sunglasses for women in India. Improve your eye wear with these women's sunglasses. From traditional aviators to modern cat-eye frames,
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we offer the right shades for every look and event. Browse now to find your new fave pair of fashionable and chic women's sunglasses. Buy online now from OscarEye.
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spyshop1989-blog · 7 months ago
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Explore the world of espionage with Spy World's innovative Spy Glasses Camera. Capture every moment discreetly and securely. Witness the unseen today!
For any query:
Call us at 8800809593 | 8585977908
or visit us at: www.spyworld.in
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nanamineedstherapy · 4 days ago
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Heat & Dust: Where the Wind Calls Her Name
Modern AU: Nanami Kento x F!Wife Reader
Summary: Nanami & his wife were happy. That was before Rajasthan. Because when the wind howls through the ruins, the whispers call's a name. (A slow-burn tragedy about a love lost & a man who never stopped looking.) Trigger Warnings: Smut (so minors & ageless blogs please touch grass), Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Shakespearian Tragedy, Haunting Love Stories, Loverboy Kento Nanami, Emotional Torture, Rajasthan & Indian Folklore Lore, Death (Past & New), Ghost Prince GS, Hopeless Romanticism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Reader is of Indian decent but you can hallucinate whatever you want, body type, skin complexation, etc. descriptions have not been used. The town is real & abandoned overnight for hunting reasons, but the palace described is fictional. A/N: Welcome to My Ted Talk on Why Nanami Kento Can’t Have Peace. So yesterday, I watched an Indian horror movie, & then I remembered a convo I had with my Indian atheist friend (hardcore non-believer), who casually dropped the fact that in India, “Oh yeah, we don’t dress up too much around ruins.” And I was like… excuse me???. Apparently, this isn’t just a "women beware" thing—even guys warn each other about this, because it’s not just women—cute men have also disappeared or gone insane. So instead of reacting like a normal person, my brain said: “What if Nanami Kento went full Majnu?” So naturally, this is now Nanami’s problem. Also, why do I keep making this man suffer? I love him, I really do, but if he’s not in maximum emotional distress, am I really doing my job? Anyway, Nanami is suffering & the narrator is a liar. Believe nothing. Enjoy the pain, bestie. 🖤
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Rajasthan was a furnace in late autumn. The sun bled into the horizon, streaking the sky with burnt oranges and bruised purples as a foreigner husband and his local wife trailed behind their tour group.
"Are we really doing this?" She murmured, her fingers lightly brushing his wrist. The tour guide was droning on about the history of Kuldhara, the abandoned village known for its curse. But their real interest lay in the looming structure ahead—the palace of a prince, a name lost in history but kept alive by local whispers.
The palace was breathtaking, a relic of Rajasthan’s royal past, its sandstone walls glowing amber under the setting sun. Nanami Kento had never been one for grand romantic gestures, but even he couldn’t resist the allure of this Mahal, with its intricate mosaics and whispered legends. His wife had been the one to suggest the trip. “It’s a place for lovers,” she’d said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And we could use a little adventure, don’t you think?”
They had been married for five years, a union that defied cultural expectations—a half-Danish, half-Japanese man and an Indian woman who had met in the unlikeliest of places: a student exchange in Tokyo. Their love had always been quiet but fierce, built on mutual respect and a shared disdain for the supernatural. They were atheists, both of them, grounded in logic and reason. Ghosts, spirits, curses—these were the stuff of fairy tales, not their reality.
Nanami adjusted his sunglasses. "It’s just a palace. You wanted to see something ‘haunted,’ right?"
She scoffed. "I was joking."
"You were not."
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Fine. Maybe a little."
The group paused in front of the arched entryway; the marble cracked and overgrown with creeping vines. A hush settled over them as the guide began to recount the tale:
“This story isn’t in most history books, but ask the locals, and they’ll all tell you the same thing. Hundreds of years ago, a foreign prince came to this land—as a conqueror, though he stayed because of a person who lived here. Some say it was a woman, others say a man. The details were lost over time, but what we do know is that he had wealth, power, and control over vast territories. Yet, despite all of that, he chose to stay here, in a kingdom that wasn’t of his customs.
The prince was renowned for his striking beauty—his unique hair and captivating eyes—a ruler of immense charm but even greater misfortune. He built alliances, settled disputes, even took on the customs of the land. He was even undefeated in wars, a genius strategist. Some say he did it all for them—for the one person he couldn’t bear to leave behind.
But love like that rarely ends well.
One night, he vanished alongside his lover, a woman likely, promised to another. Some say they were caught and killed before they could run. Others say the prince’s enemies set a trap, making sure neither of them left these walls alive. But the strangest stories come from those who claim he never left at all.”
Nanami’s wife rolled her eyes. "He sounds like a tragic anime protagonist."
Nanami exhaled sharply—a rare, barely-there laugh. "You watch too much TV."
She elbowed him, and he caught her wrist, pulling her closer. The air between them shifted—heavy, charged.
"Come on," she whispered. "Let’s go somewhere less... crowded."
His hesitation was brief, a flicker of logic against the pull of her hand. They drifted past a crumbling archway, slipping into the shadowed halls of the abandoned palace. The moment the voices of the group faded behind them, the atmosphere thickened.
It wasn’t fear. It was anticipation.
She tugged him into a hidden alcove, her back pressing against cool stone. "No one’s here," she murmured, fingers curling into his shirt.
"Careful, darling, you sound too eager," he smeirked, his voice lower and rougher.
"Maybe I just believe in you more than the ghosts," she teased.
But the Mahal had other plans.
He kissed her before she could say anything more—slow, deliberate, consuming. The taste of sweat and dust mixed with the softness of her lips, and for a moment, nothing existed beyond this—just the weight of her body against his, the sharp intake of breath when he gripped her waist beneath her t-shirt, the warmth of her skin beneath his palms. Her lips kissing his with a hunger that made his chest ache.
They kissed like they were the only two people in the world, the cool marble at their backs and the faint scent of eucalyptus in the air.
When they finally pulled apart, she laughed, her voice echoing strangely in the empty hall. “This place is magic,” she said, her fingers tracing the patterns on the wall. “Can’t you feel it?”
Nanami smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I feel you,” he replied, his voice low. “That’s enough magic for me.”
And then—
The wind shifted.
A whisper of cool air, unnatural against the desert heat, coiled around them.
She shivered.
He pulled back slightly, brows furrowing. "Are you cold?"
She shook her head. “I just... felt something.” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if she couldn’t quite put it into words.
A beat of silence hung between them, heavy and unspoken as he waited for her to elaborate.
Then she laughed, the sound light and airy, brushing it off like it was nothing. “Forget it. Let’s go back,” she said, her smile returning as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
Her lips brushing against his ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “I want us to start trying for a baby.”
He shivered, a mix of surprise and warmth flooding through him. He’d wanted to have a family with her ever since he’d laid eyes on her.
Without a word, he pulled out his phone and called the driver, his voice steady but tinged with urgency.
As she stepped away, though, she hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Her gaze flickered toward the shadows of the palace, her smile faltering.
But then she shook it off, linking her arm with her husband’s waist, who kissed her forehead and pulled her towards the exit.
---
The first time he noticed something was wrong, it was subtle.
She was quieter on the ride back. Thoughtful. Her fingers tapped against the car window, her gaze unfocused.
"You’re not feeling sick, are you?" he asked, eyes flickering toward her.
She turned to him too slowly, blinking as if shaking herself from a daze. "No. Just tired."
He accepted it. At first.
But the things were going to change forever.
The moment the words had left her lips—“I want us to start trying for a baby”—Nanami’s world had narrowed to her, like it already didn’t revolve around her. His hands, usually so controlled, had trembled as they gripped her hips, pulling her closer. His lips had found hers in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and reverence; his breath had hitched as she melted into him.
“Are you sure?” He’d murmured against her mouth as soon as they walked inside their hotel room, his voice rough with need. When she nodded, his restraint had shattered.
He had been everywhere at once—his hands roaming her body, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her gasp. He was drunk on her, consumed by the idea of her carrying his child, and it showed in every touch, every kiss, every ragged breath. His composed demeanor was gone, replaced by a raw, primal hunger that left her breathless.
Nanami had been relentless, each thrust drawing a gasp or moan from her lips. He’d already brought her to the edge multiple times, his hands and mouth working in tandem to unravel her completely. But now, as he hovered above her, his hips moving with a rhythm that was almost possessive, he was focused on one thing: filling her. The thought of it—of her carrying his child—had him teetering on the edge of control.
“K…Ken…Ahh,” she had whimpered his name, her nails digging into his back as she arched against him. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his forehead dropping to hers.
“I’ve got you,” he’d murmured, voice rough, breathless. His hand had slid between them, thumb circling her clit as he felt her tighten around him again. “Come for me one more time, love.”
She had, her body shuddering as she cried out his name. He was about to follow her over the edge.
But then, she had frozen. Her eyes wide, as she’d turned her head sharply toward the window. “Do you hear that?” she’d whispered, voice trembling.
Nanami had stilled, his brow furrowing as he tried to catch his breath. “Hear what?” he’d asked; his tone had been calm but tinged with concern.
“Music,” she’d said, her voice barely audible. "It's... it’s faint, but it’s there. Like a sitar or something.”
He had seriously listened but had heard nothing except the sound of their breathing and the faint rustle of the curtains. “I don’t hear anything,” he’d said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Are you sure?”
She’d nodded, eyes wide with confusion. “It’s there, Kento. I’m not imagining it.”
Nanami had studied her face, his analytical mind kicking into gear.
He had known her well enough to recognize when she was serious, and right now, she looked genuinely unsettled.
“Alright,” he’d said softly, pulling out of her and sitting up. “Let’s figure this out.”
She’d blinked, surprised by his calm reaction. “You believe me?”
“I believe that you heard something,” he’d said carefully, his tone measured. “Whether it’s real or not, we’ll find out. But I need you to be honest with me—are you sure you’re ready for this? For us trying for a baby?”
Her eyes had been filled with tears, and she’d shaken her head. “I’m not lying, Kento. I want this. I want us. But I heard something, and it's...”
He’d sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, let’s take a breath and figure this out together.”
As he’d reached for his robe, she’d grabbed his hand, her grip tight. “I’m sorry,” she’d whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
He’d turned back to her, his expression softening. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he’d said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll figure this out. But for now, let’s just... breathe.”
She’d nodded, but the unease in her eyes remained.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Nanami had muttered before walking away.
She’d sat there, alone and confused, the faint strains of music still echoing in her ears.
Later that night, as they lay in their bed, she had sat up abruptly, her eyes wide. “Did you hear that?” she’d whispered.
“Hear what?” Nanami had asked, already half-asleep.
“A voice. It was… singing.”
He’d dismissed it as a trick of the wind or her exhaustion, but the next day, she’d insisted they return to the palace, her tone urgent and her eyes wide with something he couldn’t quite place. “I need to see it again,” she’d said, her tone urgent. “There’s something there, Kento. I can’t explain it.” He had to spend two hours convincing her it was nothing and they’d stick with their itinerary with the hotel.
Maybe it was the stress of traveling. Maybe the unfamiliar environment was playing tricks on her senses. Or maybe, just maybe, she was overwhelmed by the idea of starting a family. He’d convinced himself it was temporary, something they could work through together.
But then it started happening every time.
Just as he was about to cum inside, she’d flinch, her body tensing as she turned her head sharply, her eyes darting toward some unseen corner of the room. “Do you hear that?” she’d whisper, her voice trembling. “Music. It’s… it’s faint, but it’s there.”
And every time, he’d stop, his patience wearing thinner and thinner. He’d listen, his brow furrowed, but hear nothing. “There’s no music,” he’d say, his voice calm but tinged with frustration. “It’s just us.”
She’d insist, her eyes pleading with him to believe her, but he couldn’t. Not when it kept happening. Not when it felt like she was pulling away from him in the moments they should have been closest.
Nanami was a logical man. He prided himself on his ability to analyze situations, to break them down into manageable parts, and find solutions. But this... this defied logic. He’d run through every possible explanation—stress, fatigue, even the lingering effects of jet lag—but none of them fully accounted for her behavior. And the more it happened, the harder it became to ignore the gnawing doubt in the back of his mind.
Maybe she doesn’t want this. Maybe she doesn’t want kids with me. Maybe she doesn’t want me.
The thought was like a knife to his chest. They’d been together for so long—twelve years of knowing each other, five years of marriage. He’d fought for her, convinced her family to let him marry her, to leave everything behind and build a life with him. He’d never doubted her love before, but now... now he wasn’t so sure.
He didn’t want to believe his intrusive thoughts; he really didn’t.
She loved him, right? She married him.
But then why did this trip feel like he was better off back home than traveling the world with the love of his life?
So next time he hadn't been as kind to her.
“Ken baby,” she’d breathed one night, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. They had been in their hotel room, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Her touch had been warm, familiar, and for a moment, he let himself believe everything was okay.
He’d kissed her deeply, his hands sliding under her thighs to lift her onto the bed from the table he’d been fucking her against. His movements were urgent but reverent, as if he couldn’t believe this was real. He wanted her, wanted this, wanted the future they’d talked about for so long.
But then, as he’d continued to roll his hips, tettering on the edge of her and his own release, his eyes dark with desire, she’d froze.
Her head snapped toward the window, her eyes wide with fear. “Do you hear that?” She’d whispered, voice trembling.
Nanami had stilled, jaw tightening. “Hear what?” he’d asked, tone clipped.
“Music,” she’d said. “It’s… it’s coming from somewhere.”
He’d stared at her, his frustration bubbling over.
“There’s no music,” he’d said flatly, voice tight. “Are you... changing your mind? Is that what this is?”
“What? No!” She’d protested, voice rising. “I heard something, Kento. I’m not lying.”
He’d clenched his jaw and pulled out and away, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “If you’re not ready, just say so. Don’t make up excuses.”
Her eyes had been wide, hurt flashing across her face. “I’m not making anything up! I heard music. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because there’s nothing there!” He’d snapped, voice sharper than he intended. He stood, pacing the room, his frustration boiling over. “If you’re not ready for this, fine. But don’t play games with me.”
She’d stared at him, her chest tightening. “I’m not playing games,” she’d said quietly, voice breaking. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not lying to you.”
Nanami had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to take a shower,” he’d muttered.
He’d grabbed his robe and left the room without another word.
She’d sat there, alone and confused, the faint strains of a voice singing her name still echoing in her ears.
Kento didn’t know that was the last time he was ever going to have sex with her.
---
Then, back in Tokyo, small things had began piling up.
She flinched at things he couldn’t see.
"You’re being ridiculous," he said one evening when she refused to step into their dimly lit living room. "It’s just shadows."
"You don’t understand," she whispered.
"You’re right," he snapped, patience thinning. "I don’t."
She recoiled as if struck.
Then she’d begun walking in the night, her side of the bed cold. She claimed she heard music, faint and haunting, like the strains of a sitar playing in another room. Nanami would check the apartment, of course, but there was never anything there.
“It’s stress,” he’d said one evening, his tone gentle but firm. “You’ve been working too hard. Maybe you should take some time off.”
She’d glared at him, her usually warm eyes icy. “You think I’m imagining this?”
“I think you’re exhausted,” he’d replied, reaching for her hand. She’d pulled away.
And then there were the whispers—half-heard murmurs when she thought he wasn’t listening.
She’d started to wake up in the middle of the night, staring at the corner of their bedroom. Sometimes mumbling under her breath, as if answering a question.
The fights started small—her frustration at his refusal to believe her, his exhaustion at her growing paranoia.
But resentment festered like a wound left untreated.
She’d insisted she wasn’t crazy and that something—or someone—was following her.
Nanami, the pragmatist, had suggested therapy. “Just to rule things out,” he’d said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Please, darling. For me.”
She’d agreed, but the sessions only seemed to make things worse.
The therapist diagnosed her with schizophrenia, a word that hung between them like a death sentence.
She stopped going to work, retreating into herself. She spent her days at home, staring out the window or pacing the apartment, her once-vibrant personality dulled to a shadow.
Then the arguments got more frequent.
When he suggested starting medication, she laughed.
It wasn’t a kind laugh.
"You think I’m crazy?"
"I think you need help."
Her lips curled. "Of course you do."
She stopped sleeping beside him.
Stopped talking to him unless necessary.
Work became a distant thing, then a nonexistent one.
Nanami tried to be patient, but the distance between them grew. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing her. The woman he’d married—strong, independent, full of life—was slipping away, replaced by someone he barely recognized.
And one day, he came home to find her in the dark.
---
Nanami had come home to the sound of laughter. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in months, and it stopped him in his tracks.
It had been rich and warm, spilling from her lips like it belonged there.
A weight had lifted from his chest, and for a moment, he allowed himself to hope.
Maybe she’d been getting better. Maybe they’d find their way back to each other. Maybe she’d been finally healing. Maybe—
But as he’d stepped into the living room, his heart sank.
She’d been sitting on the floor, her back to him, knees tucked beneath her, hands gesturing lightly—casual, intimate. Her shoulders had been shaking with laughter as she spoke to someone, voice soft.
Except there had been no one there.
“Darling,” he’d called, his voice trembling.
She’d turned then, still smiling, but the moment she’d seen him, her expression had shifted—a flicker of something unreadable before she’d schooled her features.
Her eyes had still been bright with a joy he hadn’t seen in so long. “Kento. You’re home.” She’d greeted him like he was an afterthought.
He’d forced a smile, though his pulse had thundered in his ears. “Who were you talking to?”
Her expression had faltered, just for a moment. “No one,” she said quickly. “Just… thinking out loud.”
“What was so funny?” he’d pushed.
She hesitated. Then, softly added, "you wouldn’t believe me."
His fists had clenched. "Try me."
Then her eyes had flicked—just slightly—to something over his shoulder.
And that was when he’d felt it.
The air had moved.
A cold breath against the back of his neck.
A presence too close, too real.
He’d turned.
And for the first time in his life, Nanami Kento saw a ghost.
Tall. Pale. Dressed in fine, outdated robes.
Beautiful eyes and hair.
Beautiful white hair and piercing blue eyes.
The man—the prince—was watching him with an unreadable expression.
Like a king appraising a pawn.
Like a conqueror surveying his land.
Nanami’s knees had buckled, and he’d fallen.
His wife had rushed forward, instinct taking over, her hands gripping his face, her touch grounding—alive, but her hands had been cold against his skin.
"Kento—!"
But he wasn’t looking at her.
He’d been looking at him.
And the ghost, Prince Gojo Satoru, had simply smirked.
Like he’d already won.
Nanami had realized then—this wasn’t just madness.
It wasn’t a break, a disorder, a cruel trick of the mind.
She hadn’t been losing herself.
She’d been taken.
And he had let it happen.
The pieces had fallen into place with cruel clarity.
The voice she’d heard in the palace, the laughter, the way she’d become distant—it wasn’t schizophrenia.
It had all been Gojo.
The ghost of a prince who had taken a liking to her, who had followed her home and woven himself into her life.
Nanami felt sick.
He had failed her.
He had dismissed her fears, convinced himself she was ill, when the truth was far more terrifying.
And now he was losing her to a man who wasn’t even alive.
“I’m sorry,” he’d choked out, his voice breaking. “I should have believed you.”
Her face had crumpled, and she’d pulled him into her arms. “It’s not your fault,” she’d whispered. “I didn’t want to believe it either.”
But as they clung to each other, Nanami couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too late.
---
In the weeks that followed, she’d grow weaker, her once-vibrant spirit fading like a dying flame.
Nanami watched helplessly as the woman he loved slipped further and further away, her laughter now a ghostly echo in their empty home.
And in the corner of the room, Gojo watched, his smirk never wavering.
But as he’d sat by her bedside, holding her hand as she slept, he’d make a silent vow. He would find a way to bring her back, even if it meant confronting the dead monarch himself.
After all, love was the only magic he had ever believed in.
Then Nanami had tried everything—doctors, therapists, even a desperate visit to a priestess who had taken one look at him and shaken her head. “There’s nothing I can do,” she’d said. “This is beyond me.”
And now, she was gone.
She died on a quiet morning, as if the universe itself was too ashamed to make a sound.
No violence, no struggle—just silence.
Nanami had left for groceries, and when he returned, the door was ajar.
The air inside was stale, thick, suffocating.
He’d called her name.
No answer.
He found her curled on their bed, her body unnaturally still, her hands resting lightly on her stomach as if she had merely dozed off. Her lips were parted, and for a moment, he swore he saw them move.
But she was cold.
Kento stood there for a long time, unable to move, unable to breathe.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be real.
He shook her once, twice. "Darling."
Her head lolled to the side.
His fingers clenched around her shoulders. "This isn’t funny."
Nothing.
A sound escaped him—raw, broken.
They told him it was heart failure. A tragedy. Sudden. Unexplained.
But he knew better.
The days that followed were a blur.
Nanami moved through them like a ghost himself, his grief a heavy cloak that suffocated him.
He expected to see Gojo’s ghost lurking in the corners of their apartment, taunting him, but the white-haired figure was nowhere to be found. It was as if Gojo had vanished the moment his wife had taken her last breath.
Nanami hated him for it.
Hated him for taking her, for leaving him alone, for existing at all.
But most of all, he hated himself for not being able to save her. For not believing her in time.
The days stretched into weeks. He drifted, weightless, his mind full of echoes.
He stopped speaking to people. Stopped working.
The world became a distant thing, muffled and unreal.
But the pull remained.
---
It was a month after her death when Nanami stood in the shadow of the Mahal, its sandstone walls glowing in the afternoon sun, looming over him like a specter from a past he couldn’t escape. It didn't hold the same allure anymore.
Now, it felt like a tomb.
He didn’t know why he’d come. He hadn’t planned it.
He hadn’t planned on anything at all.
Maybe it was desperation, or maybe it was the faint hope that he could confront Gojo, demand answers, scream at him until his voice gave out.
But deep down, he knew the truth: he was here because he had nowhere else to go.
The palace was empty; no tourists.
Nanami wandered the corridors, his footsteps echoing in the silence.
He found the alcove where it had all begun—the place where he had shared that fateful kiss.
The memory was sharp, painful, and he clenched his fists to keep from breaking down.
There was no sound, no music, only the faint rustle of wind through the palace’s ancient halls. Nanami sank to his knees, his anger giving way to despair. He whispered, his voice cracking. “Why? Why her?”
Still, there was nothing. No ghostly figure, no laughter, no sign that Gojo had ever been there at all.
Nanami felt a surge of frustration.
Had it all been in his head? Had her illness been just that—an illness—and he had been going insane and started seeing it too?
As he sat there, his mind racing, the air got heavy with the scent of eucalyptus and decay, and a faint sound reached his ears.
It was music—soft and haunting, reminiscent of the tunes she had described hearing all those months ago.
But this time, it was accompanied by the gentle jingle of the anklets she’d worn on their wedding day and during Karwachauth ever since.
Nanami’s breath caught in his throat.
He stood, following the sound through the palace’s labyrinthine corridors until he reached a small, hidden chamber.
Inside, the walls were covered in intricate carvings, their details illuminated by the faint light of a single oil lamp.
And there in the center of the room—
She’d looked just as she had in life, her eyes warm and full of love, voice soft. “You shouldn’t have come.”
Nanami stumbled forward, reaching for her, but his hand passed through her like smoke. “Darling,” he choked out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “It’s not your fault.”
“What are you talking about?” Nanami demanded, his voice rising. “You didn’t choose this! He took you from me!”
She shook her head, her form beginning to fade.
“No!” Nanami shouted, lunging for her, but she was already gone, the music fading with her.
The next moment, there was nothing.
Only silence. Vast and consuming.
Then—a shimmer in the air, warping the space around it, like heat rising from the desert sand.
A figure materialized.
White hair. Piercing Blue eyes. Pale skin. A presence that did not belong.
Nanami could barely breathe.
Gojo Satoru stood before him, his gaze vacant, his posture relaxed in a way that felt unnatural—like he was here, but also elsewhere. His voice, when it came, was soft. Too soft.
"Why her?"
There was no malice, no satisfaction. Just neutrality. An absence of feeling.
Nanami swallowed, his throat dry. His fingers curled into trembling fists. "You really don’t know, do you, Kento?"
Nanami’s jaw clenched. "Enlighten me."
Gojo tilted his head slightly, as if considering the request. When he spoke, there was no anger, no cruelty—just a simple, unwavering truth.
"You married an Indian woman. Lived with her. Loved her. And yet, you never learned the most basic rule."
The air around them shifted, thick with something rancid. The wind through the broken palace walls carried the scent of decay, of age, of something that did not want to be disturbed.
Gojo’s voice remained even.
"In India, there’s an unspoken rule—one even atheists follow."
The air grew colder.
"You do not show off your women in ruins."
Nanami’s stomach twisted.
Gojo blinked slowly, like a creature that had forgotten how to mimic human expression. "You don’t dress them up and parade them around cemeteries, old buildings, palaces." His voice lowered. "People get possessed. Things follow them home."
Nanami felt his breath leave him.
The memory came back. The moment he lost her.
The way she had laughed in that alcove, her lips swollen from his kisses, her body pressed against his, flushed and breathless. The gold that had glinted at her wrists, her throat, catching the dying sunlight—making her glow. The way her voice, filled with love, with life, carried through the hollow halls of a palace where no living thing should have heard it.
They had looked so blissful.
But now, the memory felt like a knife twisting in his chest.
Because he’d been watching.
“You looked so happy,” Gojo murmured, his voice almost thoughtful. “So in love.”
There was no malice. No regret. No sympathy.
"And I…" Gojo’s voice barely wavered. "I wanted that."
Nanami’s heart threatened to crawl out of his throat.
Gojo blinked, his expression unchanging. "My love left me," he said. "Married another. Her family pushed her into it, and she stayed once she met him. I waited for her. I waited for her to come back."
His head turned slightly, looking out the window, gaze distant. Like he was watching a memory. Like he was watching something only he could see. "She never did."
The stillness in his voice was unbearable.
Nanami’s vision blurred with rage. "So you took mine instead?"
Gojo turned to face him, eyes boring into Nanami's.
His face was still empty. Void of anything human.
"Maybe I did," he said. "Maybe she left. Maybe she came back to me. Maybe you stole her from me in another life. Maybe she chose you. Maybe she didn’t love me as much as I thought. Or maybe—" Gojo exhaled softly. "Maybe I see why she fell in love with you."
Rage coiled in Nanami’s chest. His hands trembled, nails biting into his palms.
Gojo watched him without blinking. Without caring. "After everything I lost—after she left me to marry someone else because her family pushed her into it—I wanted what you had."
Gojo’s voice did not rise. It did not falter.
"So I took it."
Nanami’s body locked up, something primal and violent rising in his chest. His throat burned. His vision swam. His grief was a wildfire, an avalanche, a noose tightening around his own damn throat.
“You’re a monster.”
Gojo continued, reactionless. "Maybe," he admitted.
Then—Gojo’s head tilted ever so slightly.
"But you’re the one who brought her here."
The words slammed into Nanami’s ribcage like a hammer.
"You didn’t protect her," Gojo murmured. "You thought she was insane before you believed her."
The words hit Nanami like he was being set on fire. 
Because he knew.
He knew.
Deep down, he knew the truth in them.
He’d been so focused on their future, too confident in logic and reason, on starting a family, that he’d ignored the warnings—both spoken and unspoken—the unease in her eyes, the way her voice had shaken when she begged him to listen, to believe her.
And now she was gone.
He would never see her again.
She had slipped through his fingers like smoke, like an illusion he was never meant to hold onto in the first place.
He stood there, rooted in the ruins of a past that no longer existed, a future that had been severed clean from his grasp.
Gojo did not smile.
He did not mock.
He simply stood there, blank and unfeeling, watching as Nanami shattered into something that could never be put back together.
"Give her back."
Nanami’s voice cracked, raw and desperate.
It was not a demand.
It was a plea.
"Please." His fingers twitched, reaching for something that wasn’t there. "Just give her back."
For the first time, Gojo’s expression shifted. Not in pity. Not in regret.
Just something fleeting. Almost human.
"I can’t."
His voice was quiet. Unshaken. Final.
"She’s not mine to give."
And then he was gone.
No shadow left behind.
No footprints in the dust.
As if he had never been there at all.
And maybe he hadn’t.
Nanami never saw Gojo again.
Not in the palace.
Not anywhere.
And neither did he see her.
Not that day.
Not the next.
Not in the ruins where he had kissed her for the last time.
Not in the house where she had once lived, where the echoes of her voice had turned to silence.
But still, he searched.
Through the palace.
Through the crumbling ruins.
Through the empty villages.
Through the desert, where the sand swallowed footsteps whole.
Through the places where even the ghosts had grown tired of lingering.
But there was nothing.
There had never been anything.
No ghosts.
No answers.
Just silence—cold and unrelenting, stretching on and on until it hollowed him out from the inside.
Or maybe—maybe he had seen her.
Maybe she had whispered to him in the dead of night, her voice curled around his ear like a secret. Maybe he had caught glimpses of her in reflections, in the shimmer of heat rising from the sand, in the spaces between dreams and waking.
Or maybe it had all been in his head.
Maybe she had never been there at all.
The whispers started soon after.
Of the foreigner with blond hair who wandered through the ruins, his steps slow, his gaze hollow.
Of the man who murmured to the crumbling palace walls, who spoke to shadows, who waited for a love that would never return.
At first, people tried to help.
They approached him with cautious kindness.
“Are you lost, sir?”
“Do you have family we can call?”
“Here, drink this—eat something.”
But Nanami did not answer.
Did not acknowledge them.
Did not even seem to hear them at all.
He knew you’d be mad. 
You never liked when other women gave him attention.
He would sit in the dust, his fingers tracing invisible patterns into the stone, lips moving in silent conversation.
With whom, no one knew.
And slowly, they learned to leave him alone.
He became part of the ruins themselves.
A figure wrapped in dust and sorrow.
A cautionary tale whispered to children.
"Don’t wander too far, lest you meet the mad foreigner who searches for his dead wife."
The weeks passed. Then the months.
His hair grew long and matted, strands clumping together, dirt and sand tangled in the once-golden locks.
His clothes frayed at the edges, sleeves torn, fabric thinning from exposure to the harsh desert winds.
His face, once sharp with quiet confidence, sank inward—cheekbones too prominent, lips cracked, skin burnt raw by the unrelenting sun.
A living corpse.
The police and NGOs found him once, coaxed him into a rehabilitation center, gave him food, bathed him, handed him clean clothes.
But the moment they turned their backs, he was gone.
He ran.
Back to the palace.
Back to the ruins.
Back to the last place he thought he'd seen her.
He was twenty-seven, but to those who saw him, he was ageless.
A mad saint.
A lost soul.
A pagala baba, dressed in tattered rags, muttering prayers that weren’t prayers—just a name, her name, over and over again.
Still—he walked.
Because maybe, if he searched long enough—
If he wandered through the ruins until his feet bled—
If he kept looking, kept listening, kept believing—
Maybe one day, he would find her again.
Maybe she had just stepped away for a moment.
Maybe she would return.
Maybe one day, he would wake up and she would be beside him.
And the desert, mercifully, swallowed his grief whole.
Because one day—
He disappeared.
No one saw him leave.
No footprints in the sand.
No body was found.
Just gone.
But still—the whispers remained.
At night, when the wind howled through the ruins, when the air was thick with the weight of something unseen—
Some swore they heard it.
A hum.
A laugh.
A faint, lingering strain of music.
Some claimed they saw a figure—tall, blond, beautiful, with kind eyes.
A man, waiting. Searching. Wandering.
Still looking for the love stolen from him.
Still lost in the ruins, long after his body had faded into the sand.
Still hoping—
That maybe, this time, he would find her.
Or maybe he already had.
No one knew.
No one ever would.
But they all agreed on one thing—
That sometimes, in the dead of night, when the desert wind carried the echoes of the past, those who listened closely could hear it—
A faint hum of laughter.
The ghost of a love stolen.
Or the sorrowful strains of music that followed him wherever he went.
A/N: So, my dear readers… how did you like Schizophrenia? No, Just a Rajasthani Prince With No Bitches. Did Nanami ever find her? Did Gojo win? Or did our beloved blond idiot just walk himself into an early grave Majnu-style? Comment below: 🔘 “They were reunited” (Delusional Romantic) 🔘 “Nanami died searching” (Realist Pain Enthusiast) 🔘 “Gojo gaslit gatekept girlbossed all of us” (Clown) Let me know which version of suffering you believe in. Your engagement fuels my villain arc. 💀✨
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