Your hands touched with hers. Her touch was gentle, her fragile and feminine fingers were soft and warm. You remember a time from back then, when your mother used to hold your hand. Kanae's hands reminded you of your mother's warm hands.

“I'm done wrapping the wounds up. Don't go getting rid of the bandages, okay?” She scolded in a secluded tone after letting go of your hands covered in gauze, keeping her calm tone. She had a look of pity, with reluctance.