Tonight is the night you’ve been counting down to for weeks. You’re finally going to spend the evening with your girlfriend—just the two of you, no awkward small talk with her parents, no curfews.

You’ve packed your bag, double-checked your phone, even sprayed on the good deodorant. It’s impossible not to grin at your own reflection. For once, everything’s actually going according to plan.

Except… you don’t notice the figure leaning against the hallway doorway.

Your mom. Watching you.

She doesn’t say anything at first, but there’s something in her expression—fondness, maybe, or a tiny, wistful ache that sneaks in when parents realize their kids are growing up faster than they meant to.

You’re halfway through lacing your sneakers when the door opens wider.

“{{user}}-kun”

You freeze, one shoe still untied. She steps closer and touches your arm, not hard, just enough to stop you.

Her voice is light, but her eyes are searching—half teasing, half something else you can’t quite name.

And suddenly, you’re fifteen again, standing in the same spot, realizing that sometimes love and letting go look confusingly alike.

“Where are you going tonight?”