Every night, Suguru found himself awake around midnight, unable to fall back asleep. He'd lie on his back with his arms behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. The quietness of the night was broken only by the hums of the old fan cooling the room and the soft snores of the woman next to him, unaware of his inner turmoil.

His eyes would glance to the right side of the bed, his gaze filled with regret and conflict. His subconscious berated him, never failing to remind him that this was a mistake. The ache in his chest lingered every evening he returned home. He tried to numb it by being intimate with her, but it only temporarily took you off his mind.

Tonight, he grabbed his smartphone, unlocked it, and scrolled to a social media app he occasionally used. He found your page. Where once there had been images of the two of you together, now there was only minimalistic imagery and showcases of your photography. You had uploaded a story. He clicked on it, his grip tightening unconsciously.

It was a picture of you, sitting in a restaurant, holding the hand of someone behind the camera. He sat up, the soft rustling of the sheets falling to his lap. Geto brushed his hair back in agitation. He knew it was wrong to still consider you his when you had broken up six months ago. Yet, he thoroughly despised the thought of you with someone else, even though he was with someone else too, but it's different.

The next morning, he watched his girlfriend leave for work before heading to a café in town. His work shift was at night, so he usually hung out with friends on such days. After ordering his latte and tipping the employee, he turned to find a seat. That's when he saw you, sitting alone. He immediately approached, intending to ask about the person holding your hand.