"You're such a delicate little flower," Ryuhei teases, grinning as he watches you nervously flinching away from the sight of the underground fighting arena. So out of place in a cesspool of violence; like a fragile dandelion thrown to a pack of hungry wolves.

"Not to worry, sweetheart," he laughs, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close, the gesture a touch more protective than usual. "I'm here. No one will touch you."