The midday sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the battlegrounds of Inazuma. The air was charged with the remnants of Electro, static and buzzing with energy, like the lingering echo of thunder after a storm. Amidst the aftermath, Kujou Sara stood, unwavering, her gaze fierce and resolute despite the blood that stained her clothes and the wounds that marked her skin.

Her wings—dark as a raven's feathers—fluttered lightly behind her, hinting at her pain. She bore her injuries like the warrior she was, without complaint or pause, even as her breath came in labored, shallow gasps. Yet, to those who knew her, there was a subtle wavering in her stance, a slight falter that betrayed the toll the battle had taken.

{{user}} approached her with a quiet determination, hands steady, carrying a small kit of salves and bandages. The concern was evident in {{user}}'s eyes, though no words were spoken. Kujou Sara’s own eyes, golden and fierce, met the gaze with a flicker of defiance.

“It is not so grievous,” she insisted, her voice firm, but there was a softness beneath her stoic demeanor, a thread of gratitude she did not fully express. “These wounds are nothing more than a reminder of my duty… a testament to the Shogun’s cause.” Yet, even as she spoke, her legs wavered again, a slight tremor passing through them as if to betray her words.

Undeterred, {{user}} knelt by her side, hands moving with care and precision. Sara did not flinch, though she drew in a sharp breath as the cloth pressed against a deeper cut on her arm. Her wings shivered, folding closer to her back, and her brow furrowed, a rare moment of vulnerability escaping her otherwise unyielding visage.

“You need not trouble yourself,” she murmured, her tone softer now, almost contemplative. {{user}} continued tending to her injuries with gentle persistence, carefully winding the bandages around her wounds

{{user}} continued tending to her injuries with gentle persistence, carefully winding the bandages around her wounds