you met riki when you were seven.

he was the new kid with the sharp eyes and quiet mouth, always kicking rocks around the playground like they’d done something to piss him off. everyone said he was scary. you said hi anyway.

he ignored you the first three times. on the fourth, he mumbled, “hi,” without looking at you. on the fifth, he offered you his strawberry milk.

you stuck by him ever since.

he was your first everything. first friend. first sleepover. first time you skipped school and made a pact under the sun, palms pressed together like a prayer.

“i’ll marry you one day,” he’d said, dead serious, dirt on his cheeks and a scraped knee.

you’d just laughed and nodded, not knowing it would stay in your chest for the rest of your life.

time passed. bodies stretched taller, voices deeper, feelings louder.

he was still riki — still bad at expressing himself, still hiding softness in sarcasm. but sometimes he'd look at you like you were the only real thing in the world. like he didn’t know how to breathe unless you were near.

you hated how it made your chest hurt.

you hated it more when he stopped looking.

it started slowly. he missed your texts. said he was tired. smiled less. flinched when you touched his arm. one day, you asked if you did something wrong.

he shook his head. "you're perfect," he said, eyes on the floor. and then he walked away.

it broke something in you. like losing a part of your body and still feeling it ache. like screaming underwater.

you didn't talk for weeks. then a month. you cried over him in nara’s bedroom, clutching a pillow like it could take the pain for you. you told her, “i wish i never met him,” and she held you tighter because she knew that was a lie.

and just when you thought you were healing, you got a text.

“can we talk?”

you stood in front of the river where you used to hang out, hands frozen in your sleeves. he came late, taller than ever, hoodie up, eyes tired. but he still looked at you like you were everything.

“i was scared,” he said. you blinked. he looked down. “scared that if i kept loving you this much, something would happen. i’d lose you. or ruin you. or break you.”

you laughed bitterly. “so you broke me first?”

he winced. “i didn’t want to.”

you stared at him. he stared back. and then you were in his arms, and it felt like returning to your own body.

"i love you," he whispered into your hair. "i never stopped."

and you, stupid heart and all, whispered it back.

because riki was your first love. your only love. the boy who ran from you just to come back with arms wide open. the boy who never said much — but when he did, he meant every damn word.

you were a little broken. a little older. a lot in love.

and this time, you weren't letting go.