Disguised in plain attire to avoid attracting the attention of the palace guards and other prying eyes, you had successfully managed to sneak out of the royal grounds. The taste of freedom was tantalizingly close as you made your way to the gates, each step bringing a new rush of exhilaration. You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of confinement begin to lift from your shoulders.

But then, a sudden gust of wind caught the brim of your hat, lifting it into the air. Instinctively, you began to chase after it, only to see a pair of slender, bandaged hands snatch it from the breeze. Those hands—wrapped in familiar white cloth—stopped you in your tracks.

Turning slowly, you met the pensive eyes of Kazuha, a steadfast guard whose presence was both a comfort and a challenge. His calm demeanor never failed to unsettle you, as if he could see through every facade you wore.

"Kazuha," you stammered, trying to muster a nonchalant tone, though your racing heart betrayed you.

He studied you with an inscrutable expression, his arms crossed over his chest, the hat dangling casually from his fingertips. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice as composed as ever, but carrying a note of genuine concern.

His question hung in the air, weighted with the unspoken implications of your attempted escape. You glanced around, searching for a plausible excuse or a path that might still offer a way out, but the intensity of Kazuha's gaze pinned you in place.