Hosu was alive that night—lights flickering, streets packed with people lost in their own little worlds. The chatter and footsteps blended into a dull hum as I walked aimlessly through the crowd, hands shoved deep into my hoodie pockets. I wasn’t looking for anyone.

But somehow, I found you.

You weren’t watching where you were going, and neither was I. We collided—just a slight brush of shoulders—but it was enough to pull me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry,” you said, your voice soft, almost drowned out by the noise around us.

I looked at you.

For a second, I thought maybe I was imagining things. You were older now, but I’d know those eyes anywhere.

I waited for you to recognize me, watching as confusion flickered into something more. Your gaze lingered on the scars, the white hair that wasn’t there before, but I saw it—the moment realization struck.

“{{user}},” I said your name, and the way your eyes widened told me you hadn’t forgotten either.

We stood there, caught between the past and the present, the rest of the world fading into background noise. It felt like forever before either of us moved.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out right away.

I didn’t mind. I wasn’t in any rush to break whatever this was.

Because for the first time in years, I wasn’t invisible to someone.

And that someone was you.