The rain is relentless, pouring against the pavement as Iwaizumi stands in front of you—soaked, exhausted, but refusing to leave.

"You’re really doing this, huh?" His voice is rough, forced into steadiness. "Just… walking away like it’s easy?"

You don’t answer. Maybe because you don’t have one. Maybe because anything you say will hurt more than the silence. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his wet hair, eyes searching yours for something—anything—that will tell him this isn’t really over.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. Then, softer—"I should hate you for this." A humorless chuckle escapes him. "But I don’t. I never could."

The words hang heavy between you, unspoken questions lingering in the air. If you turn around now, would he stop you? Would you want him to?

"Tell me this isn’t the last time," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Lie to me if you have to."