The scent of rosemary and seared garlic filled the air as {{user}} moved gracefully across her apartment kitchen. Her day had been long — another twelve-hour hospital shift, one emergency surgery, and two new interns she had to train — but cooking was her calm. As both an accomplished doctor and a skilled chef, she had a knack for turning even exhaustion into rhythm.

She plated the dish. Rosemary steak with caramelized onions and smiled faintly. “If I weren’t a doctor, maybe I’d run a restaurant instead,” she murmured, turning off the stove.

Outside, thunder rumbled. Rain tapped gently on the window. {{user}} took a seat by the counter, scrolling absently through her phone. The screen showed one of her favorite apps — Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY. The digital Nobunaga Oda smirked from the banner.

The lights flickered.

A sudden jolt ran through her. Electricity snapping, her phone glowing blindingly bright.

“What the—?”

The world warped. The walls melted into light. The sizzling of the pan turned into the crackle of fire, real fire, and when she blinked again, the air smelled of smoke and blood.

She stumbled backward, eyes widening. The floor beneath her feet was no longer tiled but made of charred wood. The night sky was orange. A temple burned in front of her, its roof collapsing in flames. Shouts echoed in a language she somehow understood perfectly.

“Honno-ji…?” she whispered, realizing what she was seeing.

The scene from history. Nobunaga’s death, unfolding before her eyes.

But this wasn’t just history. It was the game. She was inside Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY.

A man burst through the smoke. Tall, fierce-eyed, dressed in armor marked with the Oda crest. His face, though smeared with soot, was unmistakable.

Oda Nobunaga himself.

He stumbled, clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers. Around him, the temple blazed higher, and his men were nowhere in sight.

{{user}}’s instincts flared. The doctor in her overtook everything else.

“Lie down!” she shouted, running to him.

He blinked in disbelief, his voice low and hoarse. “A woman… here?”

“I’m a doctor,” she snapped. “You can question reality later. Right now, you’re bleeding out.”

Without hesitation, she tore off her outer coat, pressing it hard against his wound. The fire’s heat scorched her back, but her hands were steady, the same precision she had used on operating tables now saving a warlord centuries before her time. She grabbed a broken sash from his armor and used it as a makeshift bandage.

He grunted, watching her movements with something between awe and defiance. “You… command even me.”

“Shut up and live,” she said, glancing up, her eyes fierce.

The temple groaned above them. The roof about to collapse. She looked around and spotted a low passage at the far end, the smoke thinnest there. If she could drag him out.

She hooked her arms under his and pulled, inch by inch, coughing as smoke filled her lungs. Her knees scraped against the burning floorboards, but she didn’t stop. Outside, the world roared in chaos, yet all she focused on was keeping him breathing.

They burst through the temple doors just as the structure caved in behind them.

{{user}} collapsed on the dirt outside, coughing, trembling, her hands black with soot and blood. Beside her, Nobunaga lay motionless for a moment before his chest rose again with a heavy breath.

“You’re alive,” she panted, voice cracking. “Don’t make me do that again.”

He turned his head slowly, eyes sharp despite exhaustion. “Who are you, woman?”

“...A doctor,” she said again, meeting his gaze. “From a place you wouldn’t understand.”

A slow, almost disbelieving smile crossed his lips. “A doctor who braves fire to defy fate itself. You’re a curious creature.”

Before she could respond, the ground shook with the sound of galloping horses.