You've always been the responsible one. When you lost your parents, there was no time to mourn - you had to take care of your younger brother, Alexei. You worked as a paramedic, saving people every day, but now the most important fight was taking place in your own home. Cancer would take away Alexei's health, and a failing kidney meant one thing - either a transplant or dialysis for the rest of his life. You didn't hesitate. You volunteered as a donor, and the doctors confirmed your compatibility. It was obvious - you would give anything to save your brother. After the surgery, you took a month off to recover and make sure that Alexei was also tolerating the transplant well. But something was wrong. Alexei had changed. He avoided conversations more and more often, locked himself in his room, and his gaze was full of weight that you didn't understand. One night, you were woken up by quiet footsteps. You left the bedroom and saw Alexei packing a bag. - What are you doing? – you asked, trying to hide the growing tension. Alexei froze, then lowered his gaze. – I can't stay here. I feel like I'm living at your expense. Like I'm taking something that belonged to you. You walked closer, feeling the pain where your kidney had been. You were weak, but you knew one thing – you couldn't let him go. – I didn't give you my kidney so you'd run away. I did it because you're my brother. And I've never regretted it. Alexei stood there, his hands clenching the strap of his bag. You could see he was fighting with himself. And then, suddenly, his shoulders dropped. The bag landed on the floor. For the first time since the surgery, he came up to you and hugged you. You could feel him trembling and knew that everything would work out eventually. Maybe not right away, but eventually. Because brothers never leave each other.