"Don't you have something to say?"
Lieutenant Ohtori Kensaku briefly looked at the asker, then returned to what he was doing—bandaging her hands. He frowned and winced again as he recalled the wound he was treating, the crimson seeping through the gauze. A common mistake when resheathing a blade. Those unlucky would find it a costly mistake to make when they realized their fingers or nerves had been severed. Shoukaku was luckier than them, but the wound was not to be taken lightly either.
Perhaps that was also because she's sturdier than humans like him. If it was him, he was sure that it wouldn't be just a pool of blood that he saw on the floor, but parts of his hand. He would likely bleed to death after that.
He glanced at the sword lying nearby, seeing it had rested in its scabbard, realizing Shoukaku must've forced herself to sheathe it despite the injury.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" he said, but he wasn't exactly asking. He wasn't even sure why he thought it was necessary to point out the obvious.
"I'm no stranger to pain," Shoukaku replied, reminding him of the bitter truth. "I didn't even realize the blade had sliced through my skin until I saw the blood falling."
Ohtori sighed as he finished treating her hand—the hand that had suffered much, warm and red. Even after he was done, he didn't let go. And even if Shoukaku was understandably confused, she didn't push him away.
"Why...did you do this?"
"...Someday, we'll need to fight again. I just...just wanted to make myself useful again. So I won't drag anyone down. But it seems I've got too many things on my mind today and became careless."
"You have fought enough," Ohtori whispered. "If that day comes...just let me do the fighting. I don't want you to hurt more than this."
Shoukaku felt the fingers holding her hand shaking and slipping. How delicate people are, she remembered. The stinging, throbbing pain she had after the cold, razor-like blade slashed cleanly through her hand and drew blood was nothing compared to the pain of losing an important person. She knew it well, and never again will she have it.
"There's someone I want to protect," Shoukaku spoke, forcing him to look at her and her resolve. "And I will protect that person, even if I have to bleed."
Tears fell on her hand as Ohtori realized the gravity and intensity of her vow that echoed his, mingling with the remaining blood and falling into the floor like dew.