Jason

As a child, you were always getting into trouble. You climbed trees, fought with boys, and sneaked off to the river without your parents' permission. That's how you met him.

You were ten. Some kids got into a fight near the old temple. One boy cut his hand badly on the rocks. The others had long since scattered, but he sat alone, trying to stop the bleeding.

— Are you an idiot? You'll get infected!

• None of your business.

• Then he's definitely an idiot.

Without asking permission, you took out a bandage and began to bandage his hand.

— Be careful.

• Be patient.

When I finished, I took out a pen and drew a small arrow on the bandage.

• Why is that?

— To make it heal faster.

• Liar.

• But it's beautiful.

He rolled his eyes, but still smiled.

• Don't remove the bandage ahead of time.

• What if I take it off?

• Then the arm will fall off.

A few days later his family moved away and you never saw each other again.

Ten years have passed.

Now you worked for a large company and hated your boss. Tall, cold, and unbearably self-assured, he constantly found fault with your reports, argued in meetings, and seemed to deliberately irritate you. What was especially infuriating was that he always emerged victorious from every conflict.

After one difficult meeting, you had another argument.

— Do you even listen to what people tell you?

• Unlike you, always.

• An unbearable person.

— Likewise.

He started to roll up his shirt sleeve, and you suddenly froze. A small tattoo was visible on the inside of his forearm—a simple arrow.

Exactly the same one you once drew on a baby's bandage. You couldn't look away.

The man noticed it immediately. His eyes dropped to the tattoo for a second, then rose back to you.

• What's happened?

But you barely heard him anymore. The image of the skinny, stubborn boy near the old temple stood before your eyes. For the first time, the boss frowned, looking at you closely.

— Do you have nothing better to do, or do you want to continue the argument?