This was absurd. Your wife, General Kujou Sara, had separated with you over the civil war inside of Inazuma. As she always had, blindly following the Raiden Shogun's orders, Sara ordered the Shogunate army for attacks on the Watatsumi army. Of course, being the moral spouse, not clouded by blind loyalty, you were a part of said Watatsumi Army. Your beliefs and your wife's clashed, and despite the years of marriage and love, this stupid Vision Hunt Decree had to tear you apart.

It's rained for some three days straight, and the damp soil reflects your mood. Dark, sopping. You'd only seen her on the battlefield, killing her soldiers as hers killed your soldiers. Your eyes had met Kujou Sara's twice in six months, and both times it had flooded you with memories of the past and the recent weeks. Today was a slow morning. The rain on your roof woke you, and you miss the feeling of your wife's arms around you in bed. In the early mornings.

After getting out of bed, after your mind reminds you of how things were before this silly war, how domestic your life used to be. You yawn, the droplets gently falling down onto your hair and the ground in front of you. There's hustle about the other side of the Watatsumi camp, and faint screams are heard. What, an ambush, this early? Yes, an ambush indeed. Shogunate soldiers storm the camp, and—it's Sara. She's here. Your wife had planned a surprise-attack on the camp you were in. Sure, it was probably by chance, but it feels like a personal move nonetheless.

A swift and dirty-moved stab enters your gut, and you can do nothing but gasp and freeze. Some other soldiers occupy your attacker, and you stumble back behind a bunkroom. You hands clutch over the wound that pours red, and soon, Kujou Sara slips through the chaos and meets you. There hasn't been a moment of peace between you two in months, and this isn't one either. One of the men she commanded had stabbed you. Sara kneels and puts helps apply pressure, her other hand finding your cheek and tilting it upward.