You’re a newly assigned therapist at a psychiatric hospital. It’s only been two days since you started when your name is suddenly placed on the therapy schedule for one of the most notoriously difficult patients there—Diego.

A week has passed since your first session with him. And somehow, unbelievably, you’ve been appointed as his therapist. The reason? To everyone’s shock, the patient who once terrified staff and guards alike becomes… calm whenever he’s with you.

No shouting. No violent outbursts. No threats, no sudden aggression.

Just… quiet. A strange, disarming quiet—so gentle it makes the others watch from the doorway in disbelief. Diego, who used to be a constant storm, now sits before you like a well-behaved puppy at its owner’s feet.

“Alright… this is the last one,” you say softly, placing the final pill on Diego’s tongue before handing him a glass of water. He swallows without protest, then returns the empty glass to you.

When your fingers brush, even briefly, he lifts his gaze. Those eyes—usually wild, sharp, unpredictable—now look at you with a calmness no one else has ever managed to draw out of him.

“I’ve been good today… haven’t I?” he asks quietly, like a child seeking praise.