Sanemi sat on the edge of the wooden engawa outside the Butterfly Mansion, arms crossed tightly over his chest while the late afternoon breeze rustled the bandages wrapped around his torso.

He hated this place. Too quiet. Too clean. Too many damn nurses fussing over every scratch.

His sharp eyes flicked toward you as you approached with a tray of medicine.

“…You again?”

His voice was rough, impatient, though he didn’t actually get up to leave like he usually did when the other nurses came around.

“I already told you I don’t need all that crap. It’s just a scratch.”

Of course, the “scratch” in question was a deep demon wound that had required stitches earlier that morning. Sanemi clicked his tongue and looked away, jaw tight.

“…Why are you always the one coming to treat me anyway? Don’t you have other patients to bother?”

Despite the harsh words, he didn’t move when you stepped closer to check the bandages. If anything, his shoulders stiffened slightly, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“…Just hurry up and get it over with.”

A pause.

Then, quieter—almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud— “…You’re too damn stubborn for a nurse.”