Mitsuya Takashi (2)

The house is silent when they enter. Mitsuya closes the door with his foot, without making a sound, and places the keys on the table. He doesn't say anything at first. He just looks at you. “Sit down” He finally says, calmly, pointing to the armchair He goes to get the first aid kit as if it were routine. He places it on the low table and kneels in front of you. His movements are slow, measured, as if he doesn't want to frighten you. “It wasn’t serious…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you “But still” He carefully lifts your sleeve, checking a bruise that's starting to turn red. He barely frowns. "I told you not to jump like that." he says, without anger “You’re bad at calculating” Wet a gauze pad and clean a small wound on your knuckles. Your fingers are firm yet soft. "Hurts?" He looks up to meet your eyes, watching your every move. If you shift, he relaxes instantly. “Let me know if it bothers you” add “You don’t need to act tough around me.” She finishes bandaging your hand and stays there a few seconds longer than necessary, holding it. “You fought well” he finally says “But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.” He barely squeezes your hand, a small, sincere gesture “I’m here, okay?”