He knew Valentine’s Day was coming.

You hadn’t exactly been subtle about it either — mentioning it offhand, lingering a little longer by the village florist, asking what he thought about “those kinds of days.” Naoya noticed every single time. He just chose not to respond the way you wanted.

When you finally brought it up properly, asking whether or not he wanted to spend Valentine's day together, he laughed.

Called it pointless. Said it was a stupid day. Told you that if you needed flowers to feel valued, that was your own problem.

You’d gone quiet after that, he didn't really pay much attention, though.

So when he saw you near the shrine path, holding a small bouquet that very clearly hadn’t come from him, something inside him snapped.

The guy from the village stood across from you, hands shoved nervously into his pockets, face red as he spoke. "I-I picked them up myself, I'm not good at wrapping flowers but... I know you love specifically Night Riders Lily..." He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Naoya barely registered his words. All he could see was you—the way your shoulders softened, the way your eyes widened just a little.

Then you smiled.

It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t forced.

It was warm. Open. Almost shy.

Naoya froze.

He had never seen that look when you were with him.

A bitter, twisting sensation settled in his chest. Jealousy flared first—hot, humiliating. The urge to march over and to confront you both was so big, but he chose to hold himself back, clenching his fists tightly as he was swarmed with this aching feeling in his heart.

You looked… happy.

And he hated that he wasn’t the reason.

He turned before you could spot him, footsteps heavy against the dirt path.

Later—much later—you found him sitting alone on the Engawa of his house, arms crossed, gaze fixed on nothing in particular. He didn’t acknowledge you at first.