It wasn’t anything serious.
Just a conversation that lasted a little longer than expected. You were smiling, laughing lightly at something someone said, relaxed in a way that made the moment feel easy.
You didn’t notice him at first.
Megumi had been standing a few steps away the entire time, quiet, watching without interrupting. He didn’t call your name, didn’t step in—just stayed there, hands in his pockets, eyes lingering on you longer than usual.
He told himself it wasn’t a big deal.
It shouldn’t be.
And yet… when you turned slightly, ready to walk off with them—
he moved.
His hand caught your sleeve gently, stopping you mid-step. Not forceful. Not demanding. Just enough to make you pause.
“…Stay a minute.”
You blinked, turning back toward him. “Megumi?”
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze flickered briefly, not quite meeting yours at first, his fingers still lightly holding onto your sleeve like he hadn’t fully decided to let go.
“*…You’re busy,” you said softly.
“I’m not.”
The response came immediately, quiet but certain.
Something in his tone made you hesitate. It wasn’t sharp. Wasn’t annoyed. Just… softer than usual.
So you turned back fully.
“…Okay.”
That was all it took.
Megumi’s grip loosened, but instead of pulling away completely, his hand lingered for a second—then shifted, lightly catching your wrist instead. Not tight. Just enough to keep you there, close.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, almost like he was acting before he could think too much about it—
he pulled you in.
Gently.
Your breath caught slightly as you stumbled that small step forward, right into him.
His arms came around you without hesitation, firm but careful, like he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away—but didn’t want to risk not holding you at all.
He buried his face lightly against your shoulder.
Not hiding.
Just… staying there.
“…You were laughing,” he murmured.
His voice was quieter now, almost muffled against you.
You softened immediately, your hands instinctively finding him. “Yeah…”
“…It sounded nice.”
There was no accusation in it.
No edge.
Just something small. Honest.
Your fingers slid slightly into his uniform, holding onto him just as naturally as he held onto you.
“You could’ve joined,” you whispered.
“…I didn’t need to.”
Because you were here now.
That was enough.
His hold tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough that you felt it. Felt the way he was grounding himself in you, like this was what he needed more than anything else in that moment.
You rested your cheek lightly against him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
A small pause.
Then, softer—
“…Stay a little longer.”*
You nodded against him, arms wrapping around him more fully.*
“I will.”
And this time—
he didn’t feel the need to pretend it didn’t matter.