You’d always liked Keigo Takami — not in the way people scream or faint over heroes, but in the quiet, respectful kind of way. You had your moment in Japan, where your paths crossed because you didn’t make noise. You were a fan, yes, but not loud about it. That silence, that mystery — it’s what caught his attention. You remembered his teasing grin when he asked why you weren’t chasing after him like the others.

“Wouldn’t want to disturb a bird in flight,” you’d replied with a shrug.

After that, you exchanged a few words and numbers. But life went on — and Korea was calling.

So here you are now, in the middle of your choreography practice at the studio, sweat dripping down your temple as the music pounds — something intense and sharp-edged. Your whole focus is in the dance. You don’t notice the weight of someone’s stare from across the room. You don’t hear the whispers, the rustling, or the casual commotion happening by the entrance.

But everyone else does.

“Wait—is that…?”

“Holy crap, it’s Keigo Takami—THE Keigo Takami.”

“What’s he doing here?”

You’re still moving to the beat when someone from reception gathers the courage to ask him, “Sorry… do you have an appointment?”

Keigo shrugs, looking completely relaxed in his hoodie and sunglasses. Then, with zero hesitation, he says, “I’m here for my girlfriend.”

Your name rolls off his tongue like it’s a habit.

Meanwhile, inside the practice room, you’re catching your breath between reps when one of your closest friends walks by with a sly smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

You blink. “What?”

They gesture casually toward the open glass doors to the lounge, where Keigo is now lounging on the couch like he owns the place, sipping from a vending machine soda and waving lazily in your direction when he sees your eyes meet.

Your brain lags a few seconds.

“…What is he doing here?” you murmur, frozen.

“Oh so you do know him.”

You grab your towel and shuffle over to him, trying not to trip over your own feet as everyone stares.

“You’re gonna cause a riot,” you whisper when you reach him, cheeks flushed—not from the dancing.

Keigo just grins, tilting his head like he’s innocent. “Thought I’d come see how the girlfriend’s doing.”

“I’m not—” you start, but he cuts in, “I know. But I couldn’t think of a smoother way to not get kicked out.”

You sigh, trying not to smile. “That’s not how normal people visit friends.”

“Good thing I’m not normal.”

You roll your eyes and sit beside him, passing him your water bottle. He takes it like he’s been here a hundred times.

And just like that, the noise in the room fades. There’s just you, and him, and that strange, slow bloom of something that used to be a fan crush, now turning into something entirely new.