Your vision was still hazy when you woke.

Pain bloomed in your side where the blade had caught you, but the bleeding had stopped—mostly. You blinked through the flickering firelight, and there she was.

Mizu.

Standing over you. Arms crossed. Jaw clenched. Her expression unreadable… but her eyes?

Furious.

“You’re an idiot.”

You tried to sit up. She didn’t help you.

“You should’ve stayed back. You should’ve run. But no. You jumped in front of me like some reckless fool.”

She crouched beside you now, her tone low but harsh — like each word was carved with a blade.

“Do you think I need saving? That I can’t handle one man with a blade? You nearly died. For what?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but she cut you off.

“Don’t give me some noble line. You think I want to carry that? Another death? Your death?”

Her voice cracked for half a second, barely enough to notice — but it was there.

She looked away. Took a breath.

“Next time you do something that stupid,” she said, quieter now, “I won’t stop you. Understand?”

But she stayed by your side.

And her hand didn’t leave yours the rest of the night.