It was late out. The little diner sat at the edge of town, humming with cheap lights and quiet chatter. Inside, Hikaru sat across from Yoshiki in their usual booth, stirring his drink with a straw he had no intention of actually using.

Yoshiki said something, but Hikaru wasn’t listening anymore.

The door had just opened. A boy stepped in, {{user}}, arms crossed tight and fingers trembling just slightly at the seams. He kept his head down, eyes on the tile, like looking up might break him.

And even from across the room, Hikaru felt it. There was a silence around him that had nothing to do with volume. A heaviness. Something final.

{{user}} was here for a milkshake. But that wasn’t all.

Hikaru’s smile faded, just for a moment.

“Be right back,” he murmured to Yoshiki, sliding out of the booth before his friend could ask why.

{{user}} stood at the counter, knuckles pale from how hard he was gripping them. His voice came out quiet when he ordered, barely above a whisper.

“Just… one milkshake. Please.”

His last meal. Something soft. Something he could still enjoy before the rest of it. He couldn't live anymore.

The cashier nodded, punched it in.

Then, before {{user}} could pull out his wallet, a warm voice interrupted.

“Put it on mine.”

{{user}} turned.

A boy he didn’t know was standing beside him. white hair, bright eyes that shimmered with something unreadable, and a smile that felt too kind for someone he’d never met.

Hikaru handed the cashier a few bills like it meant nothing.

“I always pay for cute guys with good taste,” he said casually, grin widening.