The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of Rita's house, warm but soft. Einar lounged on the couch, recounting stories of his last six months—grueling training sessions, Dean's relentless teasing, and the man's utterly ridiculous flirtations with every female staff member at the resort.
Rita laughed so hard she nearly toppled her tea cup. "You're telling me he actually tried to flirt with the receptionist while you were dragging him uphill with stones?"
Einar grinned. "Yep. Pathetic, but somehow… motivating."
Dean, leaning lazily in the corner, smirked. "Motivation often requires… unconventional methods."
Rita's glare could have cut steel. "Unconventional? Ridiculous is more like it!"
The door opened abruptly, and Paul stepped in, grocery bags in hand. His eyes froze when they landed on Einar.
"…Einar? You're… back?"
Einar raised an eyebrow. "Surprised to see me?"
Paul forced a smile, setting the bags down. "Of course not… I mean, yes. Of course I am. Uh… welcome back." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the tension in his chest.
Rita noticed immediately. "Paul… you're sweating. What's wrong?"
Paul shook his head, trying to appear casual. "Nothing, nothing. Just… groceries."
Einar tilted his head, unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Sure. You're hiding something. What's going on?"
Paul sighed, exchanging a glance with Rita. "It's… about the gangs. The Tiger Gang and… our conflicts over the past months. I didn't want to worry you before you came back."
Einar's stomach tightened. "…Months? And you didn't think I should know?"
Paul hesitated, then spoke. "Before you left for training, remember the fight at the old lot? Steve, Jacob, John… they cornered you."
Einar's amber eyes darkened as he recalled it. The yard, the rusted machinery, the three of them smirking, thinking they could take him down. He had been younger, less trained, and unprepared—but stubborn as ever.
"Jacob hit me first," Einar muttered, almost quietly. "I… I barely managed to stand afterward. They threw me around like I was nothing."
Paul continued, voice steady but firm. "You didn't know it, but the tension didn't stop there. Even while you were away training, the Tigers tried to expand, trying to claim territory. Some of our people got hurt, some intimidated. You… weren't involved, but it could have been far worse if you were there."
Einar clenched his fists, anger simmering. "So it's my fault?"
Paul shook his head quickly. "No! Not your fault. But you could have been hurt. That's why Rita and I didn't tell you. We didn't want you risking yourself while you were still… well, just sixteen. Still a kid."
Rita stepped forward, her hand firmly on Einar's shoulder. "Einar, you're strong, yes. But fighting gangs, dealing with street politics… you can't handle it yet. And even if you could physically, it's not just about strength. It's strategy, timing, experience. You're still too young, too inexperienced."
Einar opened his mouth to argue. "But I can help! I've trained for months. I'm faster, stronger—"
Rita's glare cut through him. "No, Einar. You cannot handle this. Not alone, not yet. And not if your life is at risk."
Paul added, softer this time, almost pleading: "The lot fight six months ago… you barely made it. Steve, Jacob, John—they're not kids. They know how to use every weakness against you. We can't let that happen again. You need time, training, guidance—before even thinking about stepping into this world."
Einar's jaw tightened. He remembered the punches, the kicks, the metallic taste of blood, and how close he had come to being humiliated—or worse. "So… what, I just sit here and do nothing while things happen?"
Rita's hand squeezed his shoulder. "No. You learn. You grow. You train. That's what you've been doing. You're not powerless—just… not ready. We're keeping you safe, Einar, because you're still our kid brother ."
Paul nodded. "Exactly. You're capable of so much, but patience will keep you alive. Please… trust us."
Einar stared at them, conflicted. He wanted to step in, to prove himself, but the determination in their eyes left him no room to argue. Slowly, he nodded.
"Fine," he muttered, though his jaw remained tight. "I'll… wait. But I won't forget. Not if anyone gets hurt."
Rita smiled faintly, relief flooding her features. "That's all we ask, Einar. That's all we ask."
Dean, leaning lazily against the wall, chuckled softly. "Ah, the overprotective parental lecture. Classic. Cute, actually."
Einar groaned. "Sensei! Not helping!"
Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax. Just observing."
Einar shot him a glare but didn't argue further. For now, at least, he had to respect their decision. But deep down, he knew the streets, the gangs, and the Tiger Gang weren't going anywhere—and neither would he when the time came.
And the memory of that old lot fight, every punch and every bruise, burned in his mind—a reminder that he had to be stronger, smarter, and ready for the moment when he could finally confront the world on his terms.