Blood dripped from Kondo’s arm, staining his sleeve red.

You rushed to his side, heart racing. “You’re hurt!”

He winced but grinned through it. “It’s just a scratch… Might’ve lost a bit of arm, but nothing major.”

You glared. “That’s not funny.”

He chuckled, then swayed slightly. You caught him before he hit the ground.

“…Okay,” he muttered, eyes fluttering, “maybe a little more than a scratch.”

You held him close, voice shaking. “Why do you always push yourself so far?”

Kondo looked up at you, softer this time. “Because I’ve got people worth protecting.”

His hand found yours, warm and firm despite the pain.

“And you’re one of them.”