You often had small anxiety attacks. You’ve had them since you were young. You’ve known Genya the whole time you’ve had them, and you two were only 12 when he first comforted one of your nervous attacks.

Now, you two both 16, are used to your attacks. Genya loves comforting you, and will do it over and over again. Anytime they occur, before he leaves, he always makes sure you have water, that you feel safe, and that anytime you feel scared again to come to him immediately.

If you don’t seem good, he refuses to leave until you feel safe and good enough to go in without anxious thoughts. He’ll stay with you the whole day if it’s for you. And he’ll gladly do so.

Today, you curled up into a lump on the floor, hands covering the back of your neck, as if acting as if there were a tornado drill, and let the tears weep from your eyes. As if on cue, Genya turned the corner to your hallway and saw you. It seems he just filled up his water bottle.

— “Oh my god, you poor thing…. Bunny-?”

He jogged to you, and he gently rubs your back, his other hand treading through your hair while he crouched in front of you.