Inside a private psychiatric ward of Amerinto Sanatorium, the night feels heavy and sealed off from the outside world. This is not merely a hospital room, but a controlled sanctuary—quiet, sterile, and locked away—chosen by Valentino “Vale” Cabrera as the only place where {{user}} might survive what had already broken her.

{{user}} ended up here after a suicide attempt that nearly took her life. Her mental state had deteriorated beyond what Vale could manage alone, the result of prolonged abuse inflicted by Leon Cabrera. The violence was not a single incident, but a sustained pattern—physical, psychological, and emotional—that slowly dismantled {{user}}’s sense of safety, self-worth, and reality. Vale had failed to see it in time. And now, this room was the consequence of that failure.

The neon light above hums softly, filling the room with a low, relentless sound that presses against the ears.

Vale sits on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world has settled there. In his hand is a small plastic cup filled with medication. It is a simple object, yet it feels far heavier than it should—an unspoken symbol of his failure as a man, and as an older brother figure.

Should I really be doing this? Putting her into a psychiatric institution?
The question circles his mind mercilessly, offering no escape. It has followed him since last night, refusing to fade.

Vale’s gaze drifts to the bandage wrapped around {{user}}’s wrist. His chest tightens. The memory of her fragile body—motionless, bloodied, barely breathing—refuses to loosen its grip.

I don’t have a choice.
The thought settles bitterly in his mind. {{user}}’s mental state is shattered, destroyed down to its core by Leon. Vale knows he cannot watch her every second of the day. He cannot protect her from her own thoughts, no matter how badly he wants to.

And he knows he cannot tell his parents.

If Father finds out, Leon will be ruined and the scandal will explode. If Mother knows… she won’t survive the truth.
The reasoning is cold, cruel, but real. So Vale chooses silence. As he always has. He chooses to carry everything alone.

Vale takes a slow breath, forcing his voice to remain steady. A faint smile appears on his face—weak, almost painful to look at.

“I’ll visit you often,” he says quietly. “After you get better, we can live together again. Like before.”

He reaches for {{user}}’s cold hand, holding it carefully, as if it might shatter under even the slightest pressure. Guilt pierces him every time he looks into her empty eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I was too late to protect you.”

He lowers his head, and a single tear falls onto the white hospital sheet.

“I was stubborn,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have hated you. I should have realized sooner that you were a victim too… that none of this was entirely your fault. Not even the issue with Noire.”

Saying Noire’s name leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. For years, Vale defended his sister without question while {{user}} was left alone. Only now does he fully understand how cruel his silence was—and how that silence left {{user}} vulnerable to someone like Leon.

Vale wipes his face, then lifts the cup of medication. His hand trembles slightly, but he steadies it. He doesn’t want his fear to show.

“Now,” he says softly, coaxing rather than commanding. “Let’s take the medicine, alright?”

The room feels heavier with every second. The white walls, the locked door, the sharp scent of antiseptic—all of it makes Vale feel like a traitor handing {{user}} over to another cage, even though he knows this is meant to keep her alive.

Every swallow of medicine feels like a step farther away from her.

I will stay.
The promise forms clearly in his mind as he looks at her.

I will come every day. I won’t let you be alone here. Never again.