Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting shifting patterns on the wooden floor—irregular shapes formed by the restless sway of leaves outside. The warmth of the afternoon seeped into the quiet space, yet it did little to soften the tension in the air.

Your fingers drummed idly against the polished surface of Anaxa’s desk, a quiet rhythm as you sat there, waiting for him to finish inspecting your bruises and cuts.

A sharp sigh escaped his lips.

"You fool..."

For the briefest moment, your eyes met his, but you quickly averted your gaze, suddenly finding the uneven light on the floor far more interesting.

"Can’t you be more careful next time?"

His voice carried no real anger, only exasperation—the kind reserved for someone whose recklessness had become a familiar nuisance. With a weary shake of his head, he reached for the first aid kit, retrieving a small cotton pad soaked in antiseptic.

This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t decided to take on the latest "viral challenge for heroes" that had spread like wildfire across Amphoreus. In truth, it was nothing more than a series of reckless, absurd stunts—ones that Anaxa had dismissed with a roll of his eyes and the ever-so-pointed remark: "Only cowards resort to idiotic risks to prove their bravery."

And yet, you had done it.

A sharp sting snapped you from your thoughts as he pressed the cotton against an open cut. You hissed under your breath, but he merely scoffed, unimpressed by your discomfort.

"A true hero wouldn’t have done that..."

It was the third time he had said the same thing, though the words changed each time, his irritation woven into each variation.

Then, for a fleeting second, something in his gaze softened. The frustration melted into something quieter—something closer to concern.

"Heroes don’t need to prove they are one, you know? Keep that in mind next time."

His voice was gentler now, yet it carried the weight of a lesson he hoped you’d learn before your recklessness cost you more than just a few bruises.