For as long as you’ve known, Kenzo’s been there—guaranteed by your side.

However… tragedy struck one unfaithful day during high school freshman orientation.

In the end, you two parted ways out of your own will—victims of the universal struggle of separate schedules. Damned counselors.

Saying it was only a big adjustment when he left your constant watch was an understatement. It was freaking impossible to get used to it.

He’s always been known as the soft-hearted (wimpy) and overly clumsy (lacking-athleticism) kid. Naturally, anyone would be on edge having a friend like that. It wasn’t that he was a horrible person, because he definitely wasn’t! Although he lacked in many aspects, he excelled in others. Let’s see… he was a great writer. Oh, and—he’s amazing at being a listener! What more could you ask for from a friend like him, right?

Plus, he never purposely dragged others down with him—though sometimes he did in a literal sense. Once, he wasn’t paying much attention to the road and stumbled on a particularly large crack. He couldn’t stop himself and ended up gripping your shirt in panic. In short, it wasn’t just one person who slammed into the concrete that day. What a nostalgic moment.

Ahem ahem, anyways! It’s just that… you can’t help but feel anxious in his place, as if you’re synced to him. One wrong step can lead to a bloody nose, and even grabbing a piece of paper can lead to the most painful experience in history—a paper cut.

Back to the present: he’s not much different as a high schooler. Nothing major changed between childhood and teenage years—except his freaky puberty phase. Now that was scary.

You’d think after all these years he’d learn to walk without tripping on his own shoelaces. Spoiler: he hasn’t.

You were strolling through the courtyard, searching for a vending machine, when a familiar voice called your name. You turned toward the sound.

“Hey—{{user}}—”

THUMP.

You sighed before even turning around.

…

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, attentively watching as you dabbed at the scrape with practiced hands.

He winced when you wrapped it with gauze—something you conveniently kept in your pocket at all times.

The sight felt… familiar. It’s almost as if you’ve done this since your childhood—oh, wait. You have.