The night had started with laughter.

After the hot springs, everyone had gathered in the common room—Black Lizard, Kaji, Akutagawa, Chuuya, and you. Steam still clung to your skin, and the air was thick with warmth and the scent of sake. You played games, told horror stories that made Kaji jump and Akutagawa scoff, and drank until the world blurred into soft edges and sleepy smiles.

Eventually, one by one, they drifted off. Akutagawa slumped against the wall, arms crossed even in sleep. Kaji curled up like a cat on the tatami. Chuuya had passed out beside you, his hat tipped over his eyes, a half-empty cup still in his hand.

But you couldn’t sleep.

Something about the night—the quiet, the shadows, the lingering heat—kept you awake. So you sat there, watching the moonlight spill across the floor, listening to the soft breathing of your companions.

Then Chuuya stirred.

He groaned softly, shifting upright, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice, when he spoke, was low and hoarse from sleep.

“Oh, so you were awake…” He blinked at you, then offered a crooked smile. “In that case, come with me to the lobby, will you?”

You nodded, rising quietly so as not to wake the others. He didn’t say why. He didn’t need to. There was something in his tone—gentle, unguarded—that made you follow without question.

The hallway was dim, lit only by the soft glow of lanterns. Chuuya walked beside you, hands in his pockets, hair still damp from the springs. He didn’t speak at first, just glanced at you now and then, as if making sure you were really there.

When you reached the lobby, he stopped near the window, gazing out at the moonlit garden beyond.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted finally. “Too quiet. Too many thoughts.”

You leaned beside him, close but not touching. The silence between you felt different now—not empty, but full of something unspoken.

“I’m glad you were awake,” he added, voice softer now. “It’s easier… when you’re here.”

And in that moment, beneath the hush of the night and the weight of shared stillness, you understood. This wasn’t just a walk to the lobby. It was a quiet confession. A need for closeness. A moment carved out of chaos, just for the two of you.