The gym was nearly empty, save for the sound of Sakusa Kiyoomi's shoes echoing against the floor. He had just finished practice, his usual stoic expression on display. But as his eyes caught yours across the room, something in him shifted. You hadn't seen each other in years, yet the distance between you felt familiar.

You took a step forward. "Still the quiet type, huh?"

Sakusa glanced at you, his gaze flickering before he looked away. "Some things don’t change."

You laughed softly, walking closer. "Not everything. I can tell."

For a moment, there was silence. The years of separation seemed to melt away, but the tension remained—unspoken, unacknowledged. You tilted your head slightly, studying him, waiting.

He finally met your eyes again. "Why are you here?"

"Maybe I missed you," you said simply, your voice soft but honest.

He hesitated, as though the words were too heavy to respond to, but not enough to push you away. His lips parted, but no words came.

Instead, he took a step closer, the space between you both narrowing, yet neither of you fully crossing that line. The weight of what could be hung in the air—something unspoken but understood.

And then, just as quickly, the moment slipped away, as practice came to an end, and the gym lights flickered.

You turned to leave, but his gaze followed you. Neither of you had said it, but maybe you both already knew, some things just needed time.