Azana leaned against the window, book in her lap. Struggling, she closed the book and turned her eyes to the darkening sky. She heard the gate to her courtyard open and leaned out the window to see who it was. A policeman stood in her courtyard, sword hanging at his side. Azana left her window and made her way to the dojo. The policeman was already there. She lit the candles in the dojo before taking a seat next to the man, medical kit at her side.
"Let me see," Azana said quietly.
The policeman pulled the glove off his right hand to show a crudely wrapped and still bleeding gash on his palm. She undressed it before opening her medical kit and taking out a jar of salve that she kept for this kind of occasion. Azana scooped a bit out and began to rub it into the policeman's gash. His fingers reflexively spread out. Still holding her hand to his, Azana took a roll of bandages and began to wrap his hand tightly. When she was done she wiped her hands on a rag. The policeman flexed his hand, testing the new bandage.
"Don't rip them," Azana said quietly, "And go home. Sleep. You need it."
She began to pack her kit. The policeman stood.
"Thank you."
Azana looked up, startled, but he was already gone. She stared at the gate on the other side of the courtyard and wondered why he chose to speak now, and not the many times before.