It had been years—so many that the memories of Kazutora had become a blur. The way he smelled, the way he felt, the way his presence could ground you even when his own world was in chaos—it all seemed like a distant dream. Kazutora had always been a fractured soul, teetering on the edge of a darkness born from a rough upbringing.

Ten years. That’s how long it had been since everything fell apart. Since Kazutora committed the crime that tore the both of you apart, leaving a gaping chasm of silence and regret. Ten years since the unspoken feelings between you were left to wither, unfinished and unresolved. You had convinced yourself he’d forgotten you by now—and maybe, just maybe, you’d begun to forget him too.

For Kazutora, there had never been any question about where he’d go the moment he stepped out of prison. His mind had been made up the second those gates opened. And when the knock came at your door, sharp and unexpected, it stopped you in your tracks.

“It’s me.”

Two simple words. His voice, rougher and deeper but unmistakable, hit you like a tidal wave. You thought you’d forgotten, but the sound of him brought every memory rushing back at once. Your hand trembled as you reached for the door, barely able to twist the knob fast enough.

And then he was there.

Kazutora Hanemiya stood before you, looking both familiar and completely foreign. His black hair, streaked with blonde, was longer now, brushing his shoulders. The tiger tattoo that snaked his neck was still there. His golden eyes, once wild and unpredictable, now held a quiet intensity, a weight that hadn’t been there before. He was taller, broader, more defined, with an air of maturity earned through years of pain and reflection. Yet somehow, he still had that magnetic charm, the kind that made your heart stutter no matter how much time had passed.

“It’s been a while,” he said, his voice softer now, yet still carrying the edge of the boy you used to know. It had been a while—but looking at him now, it felt like no time had passed at all.