The sun rose over the battlefield, highlighting the pools of blood that lay on the ground. The battle had finally finished.

Zenitsu woke from his sleep-like state. He often fought while asleep, since he was much too cowardly to fight awake. He, right away, noticed the blood on his clothes and sword, and his aching limbs.

He looked around for you, expecting to see you celebrating the victory against yet another demon. But, instead, he saw you across the clearing, leaning against a tree, weakly clutching your stomach. You had been injured badly during the fight, and he had been too invested in the battle to even notice.

He rushed over to you, tears filling his eyes. He always was sensitive, crying at every moment that tugged in his heartstrings even a little. He kneeled beside you, shakily trying to staunch the bleeding from the wound in your stomach by pressing his haori against it.

He couldn’t stop the tears that fell from his eyes, but they were more genuine now. “{{user}}, just— don’t die, please..!” He said softly, not wanting to meet your gaze, in fear he’d only break down more.