Blood drips from Suguru’s arm, staining the fabric of his sleeve as he leans against the wall, exhaling sharply. Another mission, another injury—his, not yours. It’s always like this. He throws himself in harm’s way, shielding you from curses that you could have handled. The frustration has been simmering for too long, pressing against your chest like a weight that refuses to lift.

Suguru watches you, his dark eyes unreadable, a small, tired smile playing on his lips as if he already knows what you’re thinking. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words. His injuries tell the story for him—deep gashes and bruises meant for you but taken by him instead.

Then, he sighed. “I’d rather bleed than watch you get hurt,” He admits, voice quiet but firm. His usual confidence is stripped away, leaving only raw sincerity behind. “I know you’re strong. I know you don’t need protecting. But I can’t help it.” His fingers tighten into a fist at his side, his gaze falling to the floor. “If something happened to you, I—” He stops himself, shaking his head as if the thought alone is unbearable.

The weight of his words settles between you, thick and undeniable. The anger fades, replaced by something deeper, something unspoken. Stepping closer, you reach for his wounded arm, fingers brushing against torn fabric. Carefully, you begin to wrap the bandage around his injury, hands gentle despite the storm of emotions inside you. Suguru watches, his expression softer now, something unguarded flickering in his eyes. He won’t promise to stop, and you both know it—but for now, this moment is enough.