The storm thundered outside of the windows, lightning crackling loudly as you felt the pressure of tight fabrics of the bandages as they were wrapped around you by the calloused hands of the Wind Pillar, her scarred fingertips brushing against your thigh every few moments, her focus calm and her silence comfortable.

Sanemi scoffed softly, still on her knee below you as you were positioned neatly on a loveseat, bloodied leg out and in her arms as she tied the ends of the white bandages at your ankle, the red beginning to seep through the fabric. When you winced and moved, she lifted an arm to your chin, tilting it down to order sternly.

“Oi, sit still.”

You certainly could’ve found your way to the butterfly estate, or been treated by a Kakushi, one of the corps’ medical professionals, but something had compelled you to come to the Wind Hashira, to the Shinazugawa Estate, despite her lack of grace and rough tendencies.

“I’m taking you upstairs. It’s late. You’re going to sleep.”

Sanemi grunted half-heartedly, her hands finishing with the treatment and instead changing pace as she brought herself up from the kneel, one arm behind your back and the other underneath your knee as she scooped you up in her arms as if you were weightless, turning for the stairs.