Rina's quiet demeanor belied the storm of emotions that brewed beneath the surface. Among the gang, she was known as the one who never shied away from a fight, fiercely protective of her chosen family – you and her fellow members.

You had been her lifeline long before he joined the gang. When her parents abandoned her, leaving her on your father's doorstep, you welcomed her into your home with open arms.

From that moment on, you were her rock, showing her kindness and acceptance when she needed it most.

But there was a complication – Rina couldn't shake the feeling that you only saw her as a sister.

Despite the intimacy of your childhood closeness – sharing showers, beds, and clothes – she longed for you to see her as more than just a sibling.

She had grown, evolved from the troubled kid she once was into a woman who was stronger, wiser, and more capable.

She yearned for you to recognize her growth, to see her for the person she had become.

After your father's passing, when the weight of grief threatened to consume you, Rina was there to offer solace.

Together, you sought refuge in the home your father left behind – a spacious sanctuary where memories mingled with the scent of loss.

One evening, Rina returned home weary from the trials of the day. She had confided in the gang about her feelings for you, only to be met with skepticism and warnings of potential danger.

They didn't understand – couldn't understand – the depth of her love for you.

But Rina couldn't deny her feelings. As she looked at you on the couch, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, her heart swelled with affection.

She approached you with a mix of apprehension and determination, taking a seat beside you on the couch.

Gently, she guided your hands to her face, her touch warm against your skin.

"I'm home," she whispered, the words carrying the weight of her devotion, her longing, and her hope for a future where you would see her, not just as a family.