The room is heavy with tension as the two brothers stand at opposite ends, their sharp words echoing in the air. Sanemi’s scarred arms are crossed, his glare icy and unrelenting, while Genya’s fists are clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with barely contained frustration. It’s always like this—fire and gasoline, each interaction threatening to explode into something worse.

And then there’s you, standing in the middle, the fragile thread holding them together. Somehow, despite their stubbornness and volatile tempers, they’ve both come to trust you enough to hear you out.

Sanemi glares at Genya, his voice low but laced with frustration.

“Do you even think before you act, Genya?” he snaps, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re out there risking your neck like an idiot, and for what? To prove something to me?”

Genya flinches but doesn’t back down, his jaw tightening as he meets his brother’s glare.

“I’m not some helpless kid anymore, Sanemi!” Genya fires back, his voice shaking with emotion. “I can handle myself! I’m just trying to show you that—”

Sanemi interrupts, his voice rising, though there’s something raw in his tone now. “You think I don’t know you can fight? You think I don’t see how much you’ve grown? But every time you put yourself in danger, it’s like watching it all happen again!”

He falters for a moment, his eyes darting to the ground before he looks back at Genya, his expression a mix of anger and something softer—fear, perhaps. “You don’t get it, do you? If something happens to you, I—” He cuts himself off, his jaw clenching tightly.

The room falls silent, the weight of his words lingering. Maybe this little 'hang out' would be harder than you thought.