After your parents split, life didnβt pause. It didnβt even flinch. you packed your bags and moved in with your aunt, trading city noise for quiet nights and the steady rhythm of her small yakiniku shop at the edge of town. It wasnβt much, but it gave you something to do. something to hold.
The shop buzzed with laughter and clinking dishes, heat curling off the grill into the cool night air. but out back. behind the clatter and the smoke - was where you went to breathe.
You stepped into the narrow alley, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the brick wall. the quiet settled in, soft and heavy. just you and the glow of the ember, flickering like a pulse.
Then a voice broke the stillnessβlow, even, and just a little amused.
βSmokingβs bad, you know?β
You didnβt startle. just turned your head. there he was. Jay. dark hair, calm eyes, cigarette in hand. his badge caught the light like an afterthought. He stood at the mouth of the alley like heβd always belonged there. the neighborhood cop; young, unreadable, with a gaze that made people straighten up without knowing why.
He took a drag, slow and unbothered, then looked at you like heβd already figured out your next move.