The Moment She Realized It Wasn't Pity.

Chapter 37: The Moment She Realized It Wasn't Pity.

The alley smelled like rust and damp stone. Ryo had never stepped into a place like this before-not really. Not without the certainty that she could leave whenever she wanted.

But tonight, she stayed.

Ryuga sat on the edge of a broken crate, one hand pressed to his ribs. His shirt was torn, revealing dark bruises spreading across his skin. He wasn't looking at her, eyes fixed on the cracked ground.

She had seen him fight before, had seen how he carried himself like a man with nothing to lose. But this? This wasn't just another fight.

"What happened?" she asked.

He scoffed, rolling his shoulders stiffly. "What do you think?"

"Someone jumped you."

"Not the first time."

She hesitated. "You should get that looked at."

"No money," he said flatly.

She already knew that, but hearing him say it so casually still made her stomach twist. She crouched in front of him, reaching for the cut near his collarbone.

He grabbed her wrist before she could touch him. His grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm.

"Helping."

His jaw clenched. "Why?"

The question shouldn't have caught her off guard, but it did. She blinked at him, searching for an answer.

"Because you're hurt," she said finally.

His lips twisted into something almost amused. "That's not how this works, Princess."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Stop calling me that."

"Why? It fits."

"Because you only say it when you want to push me away."

That shut him up.

He let go of her wrist, but she didn't move. Instead, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief.

"This isn't charity," she told him. "I just don't like seeing people bleed."

He gave her a skeptical look. "And I'm just supposed to believe that?"

"Believe whatever you want."

She dipped the cloth into the bottle of water she'd brought, then pressed it gently to his wound. He hissed through his teeth but didn't stop her.

He let go of her wrist, but she didn't move. Instead, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief.

"This isn't charity," she told him. "I just don't like seeing people bleed."

He gave her a skeptical look. "And I'm just supposed to believe that?"

"Believe whatever you want."

She dipped the cloth into the bottle of water she'd brought, then pressed it gently to his wound. He hissed through his teeth but didn't stop her.

For a moment, they didn't speak. The only sound was the wind shifting through the alley, the distant hum of the city beyond this forgotten place.

"You ever done this before?" he muttered.

"No."

"Figured."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not making this easier."

"Never said I would."

Despite the sharpness of his words, his posture had relaxed-just barely. Enough for her to notice.

She worked in silence, wiping away the blood, carefully pressing the cloth against the deepest cut. His breathing slowed, though he still watched her with wary eyes.

"Why are you really here?" he asked after a while.

She didn't answer immediately.

She could have said she wanted to understand. That she wanted to see the world outside of her own, to know what it meant to live without safety nets and expectations.

But instead, she simply said, "Because I wanted to be."

He studied her for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze.

"That's dangerous," he muttered.

She smiled slightly. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"Maybe." She folded the bloodied cloth and tucked it away. "But I'm not scared."

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You should be."

She leaned back, watching him. "You always act like you don't care. But I think you do."

His expression darkened. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't act like you know me."

She tilted her head. "Why not?"

"Because people like you don't stay."

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.

"You think I'm going to leave?"

He didn't answer.

She exhaled slowly. "I'm not here to pity you, Ryuga."

His jaw tightened. "Everyone says that."

"And do they mean it?"

He hesitated.

She took his silence as her answer.

"I don't pity you," she said again, softer this time.

For once, he didn't argue.

She reached into her pocket again and pulled out a small roll of bandages. His eyes flicked to them, then back to her.

"Where'd you get those?"

"I came prepared."

He raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For you," she admitted.

Something flickered across his face-something quick, something almost vulnerable.

"Thought you weren't here to fix me."

"I'm not." She met his gaze. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to walk away when I can help."

He didn't speak for a while.

Then, finally, he muttered, "Fine."

She unrolled the bandage, wrapping it carefully around his ribs. He stayed still, letting her work, his breathing steady but controlled.

It wasn't much. It wasn't a solution.

But it was something.

And for the first time, Ryuga didn't push her away.