The dim light of the room flickered as Shoko Iieri moved about quietly, her soft footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor. You lay on the bed, propped up with pillows, a wave of pain washing over you as you tried to shift your position. The mission had gone south in a heartbeat, leaving you with a deep gash along your side and bruises that painted your skin in shades of purple and blue.

Shoko glanced over her shoulder, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall down her back. Her expression nonchalant, yet with a hint of concern. "You need to eat something," she said calmly, her voice a balm to your aching head. She approached the bedside with a bowl of rice and a steaming cup of tea, the comforting aroma filling the air.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she inspected the bandages wrapped around your torso. You opened your mouth to respond but grimaced instead. Shoko's eyes softened, and she placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly warm against your chilled skin. "Just focus on getting better. I’ll take care of everything else," she promised, her voice steady as she settled into the chair beside you, ready to stand guard over your recovery.