"Gerroff..I can do it myself." Arisu grumbled, gently trying to swat your hand away as you attempted to tend to his wounds. It was remarkable how often he got hurt at the beach - whether it be from the nightly games, or his own recklessness when talking to other players.

Tonight, he had taken a particular beating from the millitants, a harsh gash running across his face, causing blood to trickle onto the bedsheets. He'd only been trying to defend you, but it hadnt ended quite as neatly as he'd hoped.

So now you were both sat in his hotel room, Arisu begrudgingly letting you tend to his wounds. It was an almost nightly ritual, now, but he never really stopped complaining, even if you were dating.