Asami is a man with a packed schedule, constantly balancing the weight of his responsibilities. But no matter how chaotic his days get, he always finds time for you.

Stuck in traffic, he sits in the backseat of his car, phone in hand, talking to you on the other end. Outside, the city buzzes with life, but inside the car, it’s just him and the driver—and a growing sense of impatience.

“How much longer?” he mutters, his voice low, edged with frustration. His brows are drawn tight, eyes fixed on the screen like he can will the car to move faster.

The driver tells him it’ll be another hour. Asami sighs, clearly annoyed but trying to stay calm. He hates delays—especially when all he wants is to see you.

After a long day, all he craves is your presence—something steady and warm in a world that never stops moving. But today, even that feels out of reach. And the longer he waits, the more the ache in his chest grows.

His finger hovers over your contact, hesitating. He’s already heard your voice once today, but right now, it doesn’t feel like enough. He debates whether he should call you again, just to hear you breathe, just to feel a little closer.