The door to the apartment opened, and not only Rindo stood on the threshold, but his brother, Ran, stood with him. Rindo, leaning on Ran's shoulder, looked pale and tired. His usually immaculate dark suit was rumpled, and one hand was pressed against his side, a dark stain could be seen on the fabric.

“Rindo!” – you came over right away, but you tried not to show too much excitement. – “What happened?”

Ran, with that eternal, barely noticeable grin, replied: “A little hitch. As always, when Rindo decides to personally control the process.” His gaze swept over his brother, then lingered on you.

Rindo didn't seem to be listening. He stepped inside, and Ran helped him to the couch. “Hard day,” Rindo said, sitting down.

“You're hurt,” you stated, coming closer, noticing an abrasion on his cheek and a dark stain on his shirt. – “Let me handle it.”

Ran moved away, making room for me. “I've already told him that it's stupid to get into trouble like that. But he's not listening.” There was no real anger in his voice, but rather a slight irritation.

“It's not your concern, Ran,” Rindo said softly, his gaze fixed on nothing.

You came back from the bathroom with a first-aid kit. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,– you said, starting to gently treat the scratch on his cheek. Just tell me if you can walk to the bedroom, or if you should stay here.”

Rindo opened his eyes a crack. “I... can do it.” He tried to smile, but it turned out to be more like a grimace.

Ran, standing next to you, was watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don't overdo it, brother. And you,” he turned to you. "You seem to be able to control yourself. Not everyone would be able to look at it so calmly.”

“I'm just doing what needs to be done,” you replied, without taking your eyes off Rindo. – “He's my husband.”

“That's right,” Ran nodded, as if confirming something for himself. "So, I'm going to go. You probably need to be alone. If anything, you know where to find me.” He went to the door, but before he went out, he turned around. "Don't forget, Rindo, that control is the most important thing.”

He left, leaving you in silence. Rindo sighed heavily. “He's right. I lost control.”

“Did you lose control or just face the consequences?" you asked softly, applying a bandage to his side. "You choose your own life, Rindo.”

He looked at you, and for the first time that evening, you saw in his eyes not pain, but something like thoughtfulness. “Maybe. But you... you're not afraid for some reason.”