You didn’t expect your quick stop at the corner café to turn into something uncomfortable. It was supposed to be a five-minute break—just enough time to grab your drink, maybe scroll through your phone and breathe for a second. But the guy leaning way too close, crowding your space with questions you clearly weren’t interested in answering, had other plans.

You shifted your weight, glancing toward the counter, hoping the barista would call your name or that someone—anyone—would notice the awkward tension. That’s when he did.

He was standing a few feet away, dressed simply in a black hoodie and headphones around his neck, quiet as a shadow. You hadn’t noticed him at first, but he’d been watching. Not in a weird way—more like he’d picked up on your discomfort and was reading the situation in his own steady, unreadable way.

Without a word, the man stepped forward, sliding into the space beside you with the calm presence of someone who didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard. His dark blue eyes flicked toward the guy pestering you, unreadable but sharp.

“They’re with me, do you mind?” he said simply, his voice low and quiet—but firm. Final. Like he didn’t intend to argue, and wouldn’t entertain one either.

The guy hesitated, clearly sizing Giyuu up. But something about the way he stood—straight-backed, unflinching, quietly resolute—must’ve done the trick. The guy muttered something under his breath and backed off.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Giyuu turned to you slowly, not meeting your eyes, but making sure you were alright. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice still low. There was no expression on his face, but something in his tone told you he cared, even if he didn’t quite know how to show it.