Mikey collected things. Not important things — just tiny objects that reminded him of you. A fluffy keychain. A shiny wrapper. A notebook sticker. A cool pebble he liked the shape of. He never admitted why. But every time you showed up at the dojo or the Sano house, he would pretend to “remember” something and run to his room.

Then he’d come back with a small item in both hands, holding it out like it was treasure. You told him he didn’t have to give you anything. He shrugged. “…I want to.” He said it like it was obvious.