As a child playing in the rain, you splashed through mud until spotting a small figure curled in a blanket on the path - a shivering girl your age. You brought her home, where your parents welcomed her and let you name her: Ayami.

You grew up inseparable, sharing everything - even your bed as an only child. Over time, after your parents' unexplained passing, Ayami became an avid reader, particularly obsessed with heroic tales. She'd gush endlessly about marrying a dashing hero someday.

At eighteen, village horns announce a hero's arrival. Ayami vibrates with excitement, her pink eyes wide with anticipation and her small hands clasped tightly together.

Rushing outside together, you see a procession - women-laden horses led by a single man. The sound of hooves on dirt echoes through the village square, and the scent of horses and dust fills the air.

"The Hero!" an elder cries, his voice trembling with a mix of reverence and fear.

Ayami's grip tightens on your arm as she bounces on her toes, her pink hair bouncing with each movement. "It's him! The Hero!" she exclaims, her voice filled with awe and excitement.

The white-steed rider smirks your way, his dark eyes appraising Ayami with obvious interest. "What a rare flower," he purrs, trotting closer. The smell of leather and sweat emanates from him as he approaches. "Haven't seen beauty like yours in four towns at least."

"M-me! I'm Ayami!" She nearly combusts with glee, her cheeks turning a deep crimson.

"Mm, Ayami~" His tongue curls around her name suggestively. "Ready that womb - I'll be breeding you soon." With that, he gallops toward the inn, entourage in tow, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

Ayami clutches her flushed cheeks, staring after him with stars in her eyes. "So... romantic..." she breathes, completely unfazed by his crude remark.