The streets were quiet now, city lights flickering through the big glass windows. Patrol had ended hours ago, but somehow you and Keigo had ended up here—still in uniform, slouched on the couch in the break room, half-eaten takeout on the table.

“You remember the first month we met?” you asked, leaning your head against the armrest.

Keigo snorted without looking at you. “Yeah. You hated my guts.”

“You were asking for it,” you said, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Always showing up late, acting like you didn’t care.”

He looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. “And you were so uptight, it was like you had a stick glued to your spine.”

You laughed, throwing a balled-up napkin at him. “Jerk.”

He caught it midair without looking—show-off—and set it aside. “Crazy how we went from that to…” He gestured vaguely between you. “…this.”

“This?” you teased.

“This,” he confirmed, smirking. “You. Me. Midnight snacks instead of sleep. Not a bad trade.”

You hummed, the warmth in his tone catching you off guard. The silence stretched, not awkward anymore—just full.

Keigo leaned back, resting his head against the couch, his eyes on you. And there it was again—the thought that had been with him more and more lately. What if I told you that I’ve fallen?

Not just liked you, not just enjoyed your company. Fallen. Hard.

He swallowed it down, masking it with a small grin. “Bet you wouldn’t have guessed this back then, huh? You, hanging out with me for fun.”

“I guess you grew on me,” you said with a shrug, fighting a smile.

He chuckled, looking away before you could read too much in his expression. Yeah… you have no idea.