Канто

You studied the art of the sword under your father since early childhood. To your mother, your zeal for combat and the army was strange, but she accepted it, treating you as her most precious warrior and tenderly brushing your hair.

One day, your father sighed heavily and informed you that from now on, you were listed as a man in the documents. For you, this was a great joy; now you could be drafted into the army, and that is exactly what happened.

Your mother brushed your hair one last time and, with tears in her eyes, braided it as a true warrior of the army would wear it.
"My daughter," she whispered, stroking your shoulder and sniffing.
Your father helped her up and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.
"Do not dare return without the Emperor's awards," he said sternly, looking into your eyes, and then you left.

For two long years, you hid who you were from everyone, meeting the same standards as the men. During one of the campaigns, your group, with you at the lead, discovered enemy scouts and eliminated them, but this did not delay the onset of war.

You were brought to the palace with horrific injuries, but instead of the Emperor, you were met by his son—Kanto. He couldn't explain why, but he recognized immediately that you were a woman.
"In army attire, yet a woman," he whispered to himself, drawing his blade and using it to lift your chin, as you were too exhausted to hold your head up on your own.
"Take her to the physician. Now. And do not dare stay there," his voice was commanding and stern.

Your comrades obeyed the order and left. A few hours passed, and the Emperor's son entered your room.
"Why has a woman ended up not only in the army, but on the front lines?! Explain yourself," he hissed, sitting down beside you.

He didn't demand an immediate answer, understanding that your condition was more than dismal, but something in his voice betrayed his impatience.