Genya stormed out of the training grounds, his footsteps heavy and uneven as he made his way into the forest. His chest heaved with barely restrained fury, each breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The memory of his brother’s voice still echoed in his mind, every insult and hateful word ringing louder than the last.

Sanemi's words had cut deeper than any blade ever could. The shock and anger from the encounter still burned through his veins, fueling his every step as he pushed further into the woods.

Genya clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms, the pain helping to keep the overwhelming emotions at bay. His jaw was tight, and he could feel the tension creeping up his neck, settling behind his eyes as he blinked furiously. No. He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t that same kid Sanemi always saw him as.