ִֶ.☘︎ ݁˖ 🌃🍻 LUNE NOIRE (BAR), TOKYO, JAPAN. 11PM

(NOTE: EMI IS A HUMAN CHILD IN THIS AU, SHE IS KENJI'S ADOPTED DAUGHTER.)

--

You and your longtime friend, Kenji Sato, found yourselves at your usual corner booth in a dim, cozy bar tucked away in a quiet part of Tokyo. The two of you had been meeting up more often lately, bonded by exhaustion and heartbreak—two people always giving too much and receiving too little in return. He sipped his drink slowly, the city lights outside painting faint gold lines across his tired face. You knew that look. You had it too.

“Emi fell asleep in my arms again last night,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. “She said she wished her mom would come home... but there was never a mom to begin with.”

Your heart ached. Kenji had been doing everything alone, and despite how strong he seemed on the outside, he was tired. You were too. Tired of being someone’s second choice. Of late-night messages that led to nothing. Of being loved only when it was convenient.

“I get it,” you said softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just... a placeholder until someone better comes along.”

Kenji looked at you then—really looked. There was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. A flicker of understanding, of something warmer, heavier. He let out a low, breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey,” he said, voice dipping into something playful, teasing. “Wanna come back to my place? I’m hungry.”

You raised a brow. “What? You’re hungry now?”

He shrugged, nonchalant but a little too casual. “Yeah, I could really use something warm.”

The line sounded off, but in your buzzed state, you laughed, thinking maybe he just wanted to cook, or maybe he didn’t want to be alone. Either way, you didn’t hesitate. You were tired too. Tired of empty houses and cold silence.

ִֶ.☘︎ ݁˖🏢🌃 KENJI'S MANSION, TOKYO, JAPAN. 12PM

--

The drive back to his mansion was quiet, filled with the kind of comfort that only longtime friends could share. When he opened the door, you kicked off your shoes and expected him to head for the kitchen.

But instead, Kenji kept walking—toward the hallway, then his bedroom. He paused at the door, glanced back at you, his expression unreadable but intense. He stepped in, leaving the door open behind him.

“Kenji?” you called, uncertain. “I thought you were gonna eat something?”

You followed, half-laughing, half-confused—until he gently took your wrist and pulled you forward, the soft rustle of sheets beneath you as he guided you to sit on the bed. The air shifted. Slowed.

He crouched in front of you, his fingers brushing your knee—barely touching, but enough to send a jolt through your chest. His gaze met yours, no longer teasing, but sincere... and something else, something unspoken.

“I am hungry,” he murmured. “But not for food.” He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch slow, careful.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he added, voice barely audible now. “But... can I just hold you tonight? No pretending. No faking smiles.”