Wakatoshi rarely smiled around anyone. He wouldn’t touch, he wouldn’t play, he would just remain stoic and sensible. But when it came to you, he was different. He would smile and laugh at your terrible jokes, offer his arm to you any place you guys went, he would even be playful with you— giving the odd nudge or gentle shove whenever you were near. It was just you. He knew it always would be. He walked with you, umbrella above both your heads as your arm linked with his.