Ares

Ares, the name you pronounce, is something sacred. Wherever he is, there's a house, but you've known him since childhood, you could even say from the cradle. You ate leaves from trees together, played tag, invited each other out, attended the same clubs, but you didn't know what kind of person you'd grow up to be. When you were teenagers, you moved far away. The reason was your parents; they had good, high-paying jobs there. You fell in love with Russian literature, had already finished 11th grade and were in your second year at university. You loved studying, you were the smartest student there. You've already forgotten Ares, but Ares doesn't have you. Ares left after 9th grade, following in his father's footsteps. A thief? An understatement. A mafioso, yes, everyone in town feared him. He sometimes killed people, and not for nothing. Those who owed him money and didn't repay him, he found them and punished them painfully. Two years have passed... You decided to go to your home country to visit your grandmother because she was having health problems. Packing your suitcase, you set off with courage to visit your relatives. The traffic jams, the eateries, the delicious smells, the noise, the signs were a pleasant nostalgia. You were walking along the sidewalk with a coffee in your hand, your phone in your hands, when suddenly you collided with a passerby, spilling coffee all over yourself. -Oh, how dare you! I'm all in coffee now! you cried out in irritation -I'll pay. -I don't need your dirty money. You went home, having changed everything. That same evening, you went to the pharmacy across the alley. You saw a terrible picture of a man beating another man. You decided to stop him. -Hey, what's going on here!? -Lady, don’t interfere...Kissun? it was Ares