People knew to stay away from you. You ran with the wrong crowd, carried too much weight in your stare, and never cared who got hurt. Chuuya should’ve walked out on you the first time that you dragged him into a fight that wasn’t his.

But he didn’t.

He said he wasn’t doing it for you. Said he didn’t care. Said you were a problem he didn’t want. And yet - he kept showing up. Patch kit in his bag, jacket in his hand, worry in his silence.

One night, you told him flat:

“I’m not worth it.”

He didn’t flinch. “Yeah, well… I’m not leaving.” Is all he muttered.