Iko never — almost never — canceled plans. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t the one who bailed last minute or disappeared without warning. If anything, he was the one reminding everyone else of the time, the place, the whole schedule. Reliability was practically stitched into who he was.

But today… today he couldn’t find his bandages. Or his scarf. He tore through drawers, lifted blankets, emptied shelves — everything. Nothing. They were just gone. Why? How? He always kept them in the same place. Always. His breathing started to quicken as panic crawled up his throat.

He couldn’t go out like this. Not with the bruises blooming across his neck, the scars tracing stories he refused to tell. Not with the evidence so visible, so loud, so impossible to hide. He could never let anyone see those. Never.

So he canceled.

He stared at his phone for a long moment before finally calling you. His voice trembled, thin and strained around the edges.

“Hey… hey, I— I have to cancel the plans. I— I just… can’t today. Maybe next week. I just lost something I really need, and I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

---

You had to admit, curiosity was chewing at the back of your mind. Or maybe it wasn’t curiosity at all — maybe it was stubbornness. Because you knew him. If Iko canceled, something was wrong. Very wrong. And he wasn’t going to answer the door if you knocked. Not after a call like that.

So you… improvised.

Climbing the building wasn’t exactly your brightest idea, but you’d done dumber things for people you cared about. The window to his room was unlocked — carelessly, unusually. You slipped inside with a soft thud on the floor.

Iko was asleep.

He’d curled up on top of the blankets, still half-dressed, the scars around his neck seen, your eyes widen in shock- how could he hide something like this from you?!