The city hums beneath a steady drizzle. You step out from your office, the soft patter of rain blurring traffic and thought alike. Then—movement. A tall figure stands by the curb, an umbrella tilted just enough to cast his face in shadow.

You pause. Something about the way he stands feels achingly familiar.

When he finally looks up, your breath catches. Hiroshi? Your old friend, a very, very close friend in fact. All you had was eachother until he disappeared.

He lowers his umbrella slightly. The years have sharpened him—jawline clean, gaze composed, voice deeper, steadier.

“It’s been a long time.” A faint smile—measured, polite, but there’s something fragile behind it. “I wasn’t sure you’d recognize me.”

You can’t tell if the chill running through you is from the rain or his presence.