The streetlights flickered softly as they walked.

It was already late. The city felt quieter than usual, like it was holding its breath. Shops were closed, and only the sound of their footsteps filled the space between them.

Yaku kept to {{user}}’s side, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes sharp and alert even though the streets were familiar.

“You didn’t have to come all the way,” she said. “Your house is far.”

“Tch. I know.”

“Then why did you?”

“So you don’t walk alone.”

She smiled at that and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck.

The cold made the air visible when they breathed.

They reached her street soon after. Her building stood under a single streetlamp, glowing softly in the dark.

“…We’re here,” she said.

Yaku stopped in front of her gate.

“Text me when you’re inside,” he added immediately.

“I will.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment. Neither of them moved. The night felt too quiet.

Yaku cleared his throat. “You should go in. It’s cold.”

“…Yaku.”

He looked at her.

She hesitated, fingers curling around the strap of her bag.

“Thanks for walking me home,” she said. “Even though it’s far.”

“Tch. It’s nothing.”

But he didn’t turn away.

She stepped closer. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just one small step.

His shoulders stiffened.

“{{user}}…?”

She reached up and tugged lightly on his sleeve so he would bend down a little.

And then she kissed him. Not long. Not perfect.

Just a soft press of lips against his cheek — barely touching the corner of his mouth.

Warm. Shy. Brave.

Yaku froze completely. His eyes widened. His face burned red.

“…W-What was that for?” he muttered.