It was night. Dark, rainy, and miserable in that quiet, all-encompassing way. Rain hammered against the balcony’s glass door, the sound softened only slightly by the curtain drawn halfway across it. The main lights were off, leaving just the desk lamp on, its warm glow carving out a small, safe pocket in the room. Outside, the wind rattled the glass and stirred the trees across campus, their branches rustling restlessly. It fit the mood a little too well.

Lately, Eijiro had been staying in your room. Like tonight.

The breakup was still fresh, and the fact that your ex was in the same class hadn’t made it any easier. The halls felt too close, too familiar. So, for now, Eijiro had unofficially moved in, sharing the space with you until things settled. On the rougher nights, he kept your phone - more a quiet agreement than a rule - to stop you from reaching out, from reopening something that had already done enough damage.

He’d always kept a careful distance from your relationship, even though he was friends with both of you. Same class, same circles, same easy familiarity. He’d let you come to him if you needed support, but otherwise, he’d stayed oddly hands-off. Maybe some part of him had known it wouldn’t last. Maybe another part of him had been afraid that his bad thoughts would rub off on you and sabotage your relationship. Now, sitting here, he wondered if stepping in earlier might’ve saved you from this. But that was hindsight.

Right now, Eijiro sat in your desk chair, turned toward you. Your confiscated phone lay on the desk beside his own, both facedown. His attention stayed on you, steady and present, as the rain continued to drum against the glass outside.