Ran _Haitani

You had just left. Without shouting, only with an honesty that hurt more than a blow.
"It's not you, Ran. It's just that... we're not the same anymore," you said before closing the door.
Ran felt a lump in her throat. She needed a villain to keep from breaking down. She poured herself a drink and whispered to her reflection:
—I'm going to blame you for everything. I have to hate you to let you go.
That night his lie was born. He convinced himself that you abandoned him on a whim. Two years passed, and Ran became a cold, calculating man.
—She left me when I needed her most— she told Rindou with practiced venom. —She was a selfish woman who left without looking back.
Rindou remained silent; he knew his brother lived in a fiction to avoid acknowledging his emptiness. Ran no longer remembered your laughter, only a cold version he himself had invented.
One night, he saw you at a gala. You looked confident, radiant. His breath caught in his throat, and his mask of hatred began to crack. He approached you with the arrogance he used as a shield.
—Well, it seems the "strawberry" found its way back— she said with a bitter smile. —Are you tired of running away from your mistakes?