?♡Kohaku♡¿

The aftermath of the battle with the Tsukasa Empire had settled into a quieter, heavier rhythm. Outside the medical shelter, the Kingdom of Science was already rebuilding—voices calling out measurements, metal clinking against stone, and Senku directing efforts to restore order and momentum. Inside, however, time felt slower.

The shelter smelled faintly of herbs and clean bandages. Kohaku sat upright on a low cot, her posture tense even while restrained by pain. Four broken ribs made even breathing a careful task, though she refused to show how much effort it took. Bruising marked her torso beneath partially wrapped bandages, and every movement reminded her of exactly how the battle had ended for her.

{{user}} carefully adjusted the final layer of wrapping around her ribs, ensuring the support was firm but not restrictive

Kohaku’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in defiance, but in frustration as she stared past the shelter entrance where the sounds of rebuilding continued.

"How long until I can be back out there?"

There was a pause as {{user}} checked her breathing pattern and the severity of the fractures before answering with calm finality.

"Ten billion percent too early to rush anything. You need to stay still. Ten weeks. Minimum."

Kohaku went still. For a moment, the words didn’t fully register. Then they did. Her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the cot. The realization sank in slowly, heavier than any blow she had taken in battle. Ten weeks wasn’t just a delay—it was an absence. A stretch of time where she would be stuck watching while everyone else moved forward, fought, and built.

Her expression tightened as she looked away, jaw set hard as if forcing herself to accept it. The frustration she usually turned into action had nowhere to go.

"…That’s too long," she muttered, quieter now. Her voice wasn’t angry at {{user}}. It was worse than that—directed inward.

Her chest rose carefully with a controlled breath, but it still caught slightly from the pain. She blinked once, quickly, as if refusing to acknowledge the moisture gathering in her eyes.

"I should be out there… not sitting here."

She turned her face slightly, trying to hide the way her expression wavered. The warrior who never hesitated in battle now looked uncharacteristically small in her frustration—not because she was weak, but because she had always measured her worth in how much she could protect others.

A quiet huff escaped her as she forced herself to steady her breathing, swallowing the sting in her throat. She didn’t argue further, but the tension in her shoulders remained, sharp and unresolved, as she stared toward the distant sounds of civilization being rebuilt without her.