He slowly and calmly opened the shoji door to her room. Their room. She was sitting on a cushion beside the futon with her untouched food tray beside her. As he entered, she just looked at him with swollen eyes for a second then looked away. He closed the door behind him and sat next to her.

She didn't look at him. She kept her face slightly down, avoiding his gaze.

She didn't want to look at him.

She didn't want to believe he was next to her. The only sound in the room was the one of her heavy breathing, as she struggled to control her sobs.

He looked at her for a while, calm, silent. Eventually, she raised her gaze, her respiration still as harsh.

"Did you let him live?" She finally said. "If I hear that you killed him, I swear I'll slit my throat. I swear you won't be able to prevent me." Her eyes and tone showed no sign of deceit and he knew for certain that she was telling the truth.

"I didn't kill him, but to you, he could as well be dead. You'll never see him again." He said in a calm tone.

Her eyes welled up in tears and her vision instantly grew blurry, but she quickly controlled herself and managed to hold her tears back.

"You'll never have my love. And you will never be able to break me." She said in a hateful tone.

"Break you?" He slightly raised his brows. "I don't intend to break my wife and the future mother of my children. I'll give you a life that he could never give you. "

He could see that she was surprised to hear him say that. Of course, she never expected him to say something like that. She unconsciously darted a quick glance at the futon and reported her gaze on him.

"There's no hurry for that." He said as he got up and took off his haori.

He went to the nearby cabinet to take off his clothes and change into a sleeping yukata. Then, he got out another yukata and a bar of soap from the cabinet, walked to Chizuru, who was still just sitting there holding back her tears, and put them beside her.

"Wear this for tonight. The one you are wearing now is all spoiled. You better go take a bath and change into these." He said as he went to slide into the blankets on the double futons and lie down with his back to her. "And eat your food." He ordered before he seemed to be drifting into sleep.

She didn't answer him, she just looked at him with mixed emotions of hate, anger and sadness. What if he killed her husband and lied to her? At the thought that he may have killed Hajime, she imagined herself stabbing him while asleep, but she had nothing sharp at hand for the moment. The whole night since she left Kazama and Hajime, and even until now, she has been worried about her husband's fate more than her own. Questions without answers endlessly swirling in her mind. What if he let him live, just like he promised he would, but Hajime still couldn't survive all those injuries? What if he couldn't make his way back to his comrades and got killed by other soldiers? Even if Kazama didn't deliver the final blow, if Hajime died, it'd be all because of him.

During the whole road on the carriage and until now she forced herself not to behave in any way that could irritate Kazama… Not slap him across the face nor shout at him. She thought about what if Kazama didn't kill Hajime, but decides to go back on a fluke and end his life for good as a sort of punishment for her?

She decided that she'd cling to that little hope she had for Hajime to be alive, and would behave in front of Kazama for days, or even weeks, until Hajime hopefully completely recovers and comes back to her.

Now that Kazama was laying on the futon with his back to her, breathing soundly and probably asleep, she allowed her tears to flow freely although silently. She didn't want the man she hated the most to hear her cry. But she kept her eyes locked on him, imagining herself killing him with his own sword while he was asleep. She wanted to stab him to death and run back to Hajime, so that she could treat him and help him survive his injuries. But no, Kazama was stronger and much more skillful than her. He would sense her if she reached for his sword. He'll then probably punish her by bringing her Hajime's head as a prize.

These gruesome thoughts only made her cry more and more. This was just one of the darkest nights in her life. She was clawing to any little hope she could think of, and they all came back to the same one : May Hajime live.

The feeling of ache and itch in her eyes was getting the best of her. That was only natural after how repeatedly she rubbed her tearful eyes with her dusty and dirty hands. Her hands and sleeves were stained with tears and dried nose mucus all mixed with dirt. Her face was in the same state.

She took a deep breath and reported her gaze on the yukata and soap Kazama put next to her. She should bathe now. If Saitou was still alive, she had to clarify her thoughts and think about a plan, what to do next. She had to gather her strength and be strong in front of Kazama. She glanced at the window. All she wanted was to run out, back to Hajime, make sure he was alive. She just wanted to know he was safe. That's all she wanted.

But there was no way she could escape. Kazama would catch her as soon as she attempted and he would punish her by killing Hajime.

With that thought, she took the yukata and the soap and slowly got up and went to the door. She turned her head toward Kazama, looking at him for a second, feeling nothing but rage… then slowly opened the door so he wouldn't wake up.

Once she was in the bathroom, she allowed herself to cry louder even though her eyes were almost drained. This was the omen of a very long night.

Now clean, she opened the shoji door slowly hoping that it would not wake Kazama and walked to the other side of the double futons.

Fatigue had gotten the best of her, all she desired was to sleep now. She looked at him for a moment before reluctantly and very calmly slid herself in the futon.

Was he intending to force himself on her tonight? He said there was no hurry, but he already crossed all boundaries by hurting her earlier. Forcing himself on her would only be a natural turn of events at that point.

She laid down with her back to him. She couldn't think clearly anymore. She was too tired now.