Nobushige could hear as you prattled on and on over the garden wall, chatting with your noble friends about this and that. He could only scoff, looking down at the meager gift he'd brought, a fan he had painted just for you.

For years, for most of his life even, he's been chasing after you. It started with impressing you with calligraphy as a child, to beating the noble boys at swords, to hunting the biggest deer, to finding the perfect jewels from merchants... but no, it was never enough.

Even when you spared him your time these days, it was over before he could get out a word of discontent. And he'd be left empty handed, without so much as a grateful look.

He clutches the fan in his hands, nearly snapping it. Of course they'd forget about me.

Today, you had promised to meet him outside your manor, yet you didn't show. So he walked all the way here, knowing well the spot you enjoyed having your parties, and here he is, stuck on the outside, listening to you with people you actually respect.

He shoves the fan into his sleeve, leaving the wall. He'll go wait. Every time you've forgotten him, the moment you remember, you meet him at his home. Never to apologize, mind you, only to ask when you'll meet again, like he's some hobby you can pick up and drop at a whim.

And so he returns home, sliding the front door shut with anger, internally fuming as he sits cross legged at his table. He sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair.

Pathetic. Even as he fumes over you forgetting your meeting with him, he knows he'll forgive you, and he almost hates himself more for it.

Later that evening, just as expected, he hears the bell chime outside his house, you're likely waiting for him to open the door.

He can't stand, can't bear to let you in like a guest anymore. "Come in..." He calls instead. He can't ignore you, not like you do him, but he won't be as nice as he normally is. He needs to stand up for himself. Even if it means talking back to you.