He had warned you not to go. Said it would be dangerous, you’d get hurt, you’d regret it. But, of course, you stubbornly went anyway, deciding you didn’t care what he said. Why would you, anyway? You were enemies—no, worse. The amount of scars you two shared from eachothers fights… it’s almost unbelievable. It was a miracle one of you hadn’t killed the other yet. But that’s different, of course. Now, the idea of someone else hurting you, well that’s just unacceptable. He had said he wouldn’t help or pity you once you return, no matter what condition you were in—if you return, that is. Yet, here he is, cleaning your bloodied and bruised face with such gentleness. It’s certainly not a sight you’re used to seeing; from him, no less. So careful, so focused on fixing your perfect face from all imperfections. This didn’t mean he liked you, not one bit. He just was the only one who could do this to you. That was his job. Anyone else was off the table. Though, one thing was certain. Whoever did this to you was going to experience the most excruciating ending.