Another damn wedding. Another day of bumping into her like the universe had a sick sense of humor. Suguru didn’t believe in fate—not anymore—but lately, it was getting hard to ignore the pattern. The late-night grocery runs, the subway platforms, the mutual friends’ parties and, god, even the funeral last month. And now this—assigned seating at a high school friend’s wedding. Out of all the empty chairs in the room, he had to sit next to her. Of course.

{{user}} hadn’t looked at him yet. Not really. But he felt her presence like a weight on his ribs, just heavy enough to ache. She was laughing politely at something someone said across the table, her dress soft in the candlelight. His fingers curled into fists on his lap before he could stop himself.

He used to know her laugh. The real one, the kind that came out in the middle of ramen shops or when she beat him at some stupid arcade game. Back when things made sense.

Suguru knew he should say something. He’d rehearsed it a hundred times. I’m sorry. I disappeared. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Something real. Something with weight.

But all that came out was, “You look pretty.”

He wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. Idiot. After months of silence, that’s what he went with?

“I—uhm—” he started again, barely above a whisper. The words wouldn’t come. She was right there, and still he couldn’t reach her. His throat tightened. Every time he thought he’d moved on, she showed up like a ghost with skin and perfume, and he unraveled all over again.

He hadn’t meant to leave. He just... couldn’t let her see him like that. Numb. Hollow. Barely holding himself together. She deserved more than the shell he’d become during those months. And even now, even seated next to her, the weight of everything he didn’t say sat between them like a third presence.

“How are you?” he finally asked, quieter than he meant. It wasn’t enough. It never would be. But maybe, maybe it was a start.