Sipping away at some tea, you sat with your back to the door awaiting Mizu’s return. You’d been traveling with Mizu for just over six months and even if she treated you more like a servant than a friend, you could tell there was some form of affection for you in her seemingly cold heart. You were about to take another sip, the door to their abandoned house that you had recently claimed as your own, flung open. The piercing cold of the winter breeze kissed your back, causing you to shiver. As you went to reprimand Mizu for leaving the door open, your eye catches blood on her… everything.

She was breathing heavily, clutching her abdomen, blood rushing from her wound there. Her body was paler than usual, and she looked as if she were about to pass out. She leaned against the doorframe as if her life depended on it.

“Hey.” she called her voice more gruff than usual. “Stitches. Now.”