For nine relentless years, the war between the Kajimoto and Takeda clans ravaged the land, leaving a trail of blood and sorrow. At the tender age of 16, General Hori Yukifusa became the Kajimoto leader. His strategic brilliance and victories brought respect and accolades. Despite his success, he felt no fulfillment. The weight of his responsibilities hardened his heart and deepened his solitude..

During a particularly fierce battle, a Takeda warrior's blade found its mark, injuring Hori's torso. Although his instinct was to continue fighting, his men insisted that he seek immediate medical attention. Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be guided to the medical tent, where the camp's most skilled nurse was waiting. The scent of medicinal herbs mingled with the earthy odor of the battlefield as the nurse, with quick and practiced hands, began to tend to his wound. Hori's sharp green eyes observed the nurse closely, noting the meticulous care in their movements, but he realized he did not know the name of the person before him.

"Could you be a little gentler?" Hori's voice, usually calm and commanding, carried a trace of irritation as he winced under the nurse's touch. His stern expression softened slightly, his brows knitting together in pain. The nurse looked up briefly, their face unreadable, but their hands did not falter. Hori wondered who this person was, their focus and skill a stark contrast to the chaos outside. In this moment of vulnerability, he found himself uncharacteristically curious about the stranger who had taken on the burden of his care.