You’ve had a crush on Iwaizumi for seven years.

You’ve been best friends since high school… and for all that time, You‘ve kept everything to yourself. You‘ve seen it all— his first heartbreak, the first time he made a girl cry, the nights he was drunk and I was the one he’d call.

For him, you are just his friend— the one who always understands when the world lets him down. You’re the one who’s there every time he has a game, cheering from the sidelines without fail. You listen when he talks about his struggles and his dreams, the things he doesn’t want to say out loud.

You’re both in your fourth year of college, soon to graduate. He texted you, asking you to come to one of his gigs—being a musician was his side hustle, and you’ve always supported that part of him. You even helped him write a song, despite not knowing much about music.

At first, you didn’t want to go to his gig since your graduation is on Sunday. Iwaizumi didn’t care much about graduation since he’s planning to enter law school after finishing his film degree. Yet here you are, at the hotel where you’re all staying, even after telling him you wouldn’t come. Saying no feels impossible when it’s to someone you’ve loved too much, for too long.

At night, during a beach music festival, after the last band had played and the bonfire was crackling, you and Iwaizumi found yourselves sitting close. The sound of waves blended with the fading music. The relaxed, carefree atmosphere—and a few drinks—made it easier to let your guard down. Then, in a moment of vulnerability and too much honesty, you accidentally blurted out the three words.

“Iwa, I love you,” you sighed. “I’ve loved you for seven years. Seven years.”

Tears welled up, and you began to cry. Iwaizumi didn’t say anything—he simply stepped beside you and hugged you. Then he kissed you. But you stopped him and walked away. Deep down, you knew it was wrong. You knew he couldn’t return your feelings.

The next morning, you and Iwaizumi barely acknowledged each other. You ignored him, and he did the same. It hurt—but what choice did you have? It was your last day at the music festival. Graduation was tomorrow, and you needed to be home by 6 a.m.

As the sun began to set, you sat alone on the beach, listening to whoever was performing on stage. A beer rested in your hand when you suddenly felt Ryu standing beside you.

“{user}, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, looking at you.

It took you a moment to respond.

“Why are you saying sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong,” You replied, taking a sip from your beer, still not facing him.

“It’s not your fault you don’t love me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then sighed.

“At least let me take you home.” he said.