The sea was restless that evening, waves folding in on themselves and hissing across the sand before slipping back into the dark. The sky above burned with the last light of day, streaks of orange and violet stretched thin across the horizon. It was the kind of view people moved to the coast for quiet, steady, beautiful. The kind of view Natsuo had told himself would fix something inside him if he just let it.

And yet, as he stood with his hands buried deep in his pockets, the salt wind tugging at his shirt and hair, he felt the opposite of fixed.

He had thought he’d left this behind. You. The weight you carried in his chest even after years apart. He told himself the sea would wash all that away, that building a new life here. marriage, children, routine, would bury those feelings under the everyday hum of responsibility. But seeing you here again, standing on the same stretch of sand with him, it was like all of that hard work crumbled in a single breath.

For a long time, he didn’t say anything. The ocean filled the silence between you, vast and unrelenting. He kept his gaze on the horizon, afraid that if he looked too long, he’d give himself away.

“…Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he said finally, his voice carrying just enough to rise above the sound of the surf. It was steadier than he felt.

He shifted, the sand sinking beneath his shoes, his shoulders tight. A dry laugh left him, quick and self-conscious.

“Guess not much has changed. You still show up when I least expect it.”

The words lingered, unpolished, heavier than he wanted them to be. He dragged in a slow breath, held it, let it out as the tide crept closer. The wind tugged at him again, brushing strands of hair across his forehead. His expression was unreadable, but his hands had curled into fists inside his pockets.