The first aid kit had become a permanent fixture on your dining table. Originally, Reno used to only fight with other teens in the area once or twice a week. He felt bad about it then, making you stay awake to patch up his wounds when you’re already so busy and have work in the morning. Then, he started to get involved in more dangerous situations, something that obviously concerned you as he drove himself further into delinquency.

But that was ending now. Earlier, he’d been approached by a member of the Turks who saw potential in him, and he was planning to accept the offer. That way he could repay you for taking him in and treating him like family. You’re like a parental figure to him despite the close age difference. “Yo,” says Reno when he comes home, giving you a lazy salute. “Got some good news.” It should be good news, but his heart still aches because he’ll be leaving you soon.