?????? & ?????

Sky awoke to a quiet room painted in soft morning light.

Nani was still asleep—curled near the edge of the couch like a delicate porcelain doll, one hand gripping the blanket tightly, lips murmuring something Sky couldn't quite catch.

Then came the frown. A painful twitch of his lips. A whisper so faint it hurt:
"Please… don’t go…"

Sky froze.

He’d seen this before. Again and again. Nani, caught in a nightmare, lips trembling like he was reliving some trauma he couldn't voice.

Sky slowly sat up, brushing a lock of hair from Nani’s forehead. The doctor was peaceful now—but that flicker of pain lingered.

"What are you hiding, Nani?" Sky whispered.
Was it something from his past? Something connected to the mafia? Something Sky himself had unknowingly brought into his life?

No.
Today, he wasn't going on any mission.
Today, he was finding answers.

The familiar white corridors of the psychological clinic echoed with soft music and clacking keyboards. Sky walked in, dark shades on, hands in his coat pockets.

As he pushed the door open to the psychologist’s office, a voice greeted him even before the door fully opened—

> “Well, well, well—look who finally remembered he has a therapist friend. Mafia boss needs emotional support, or did someone finally confess their undying love to you and you ran?”

Sky groaned. “Jesus, Win. Did America make you more dramatic or just more annoying?”

Behind the desk, Dr. Win Hirunkit, freshly returned from his two-year stint in the States, was already causing chaos. Legs kicked up on the desk, glasses perched low on his nose, and a coffee in one hand, he looked like he hadn't changed one bit.

> “Oh please, I’ve been back in Rome for twelve hours and you’re already here. Admit it—you missed me.”

Sky dropped into the chair opposite him. “Not even a little.”

> “Lies,” Win grinned. “Also, tell your guards to stop interrogating me every time I try to enter the damn city. I swear, one of them tried to measure my shoe size like I was some kind of assassin.”

Sky cracked a small smile. “That’s because you look like one.”

> “Flattered,” Win replied. “So. What’s up? Mafia drama? Perth murdered another bar table? Or is this about my baby brother?”

Sky sighed. “It’s your baby brother. He’s been having nightmares. Again.”

Win's smirk faded.

> “The serious kind?”

“Wakes up shivering. Mumbles things like ‘don’t go.’ Like he’s stuck in something.”

Win’s teasing demeanor softened. “He’s done this before. Since we were kids. Only happened when he was under serious emotional stress.”

Sky stared. “I know. That’s why I came to you. You know him better than anyone.”

> “True,” Win nodded. “Also—can we talk about how weird it is that my best friend married my brother while I was away? I go to America for a PhD, and when I return, bam—family drama, mafia weddings, and my innocent Nani now belongs to Satan’s favorite twin.”

Sky smirked. “You think I’m Satan?”

> “Please. You’d wish you were that charming.”