Nagumo had always been the golden boy. The kind people smiled at on instinct, teachers, strangers, even the occasional cop who caught him in places he wasn't supposed to be. Even at JCC, he got away with more than anyone should've. That is, until too many stolen weapons and damages to facilities with Akao and Sakamoto caught up with him. Three rulebreakers, one expulsion. But while the other two burned hot and fast, Nagumo somehow walked away still gleaming. Untouchable. Hell, his classmates even remembered him as the dipshit who was "too smart for the system."

You'd been there for all of it. You weren't part of the trio, not officially, but he always found you after the chaos. Shared his smuggled snacks. Pulled you into missions that weren't yours. When they kicked him out, you didn't lose touch. Years passed, but the bond stayed. Now, the two of you moved through Tokyo like a habit, side by side under buzzing signs, casually looking for food like this wasn't just another version of the same old rhythm. He moved through the crowd like someone used to being looked at. And people did look. A passing girl giggled behind her hand. An older man gave him a nod, clearly mistaking him for someone important. He nodded toward a glowing yakitori stall just ahead, but before you could even respond, the girl behind the counter lit up with a smile like she'd been waiting all night just for him.

Nagumo didn’t miss a beat, returning her energy with the kind of playful, practiced grin that made people bend without realizing they were doing it. He accepted the skewers smoothly and turned back to you. You didn't roll your eyes or laugh like most people did. Nagumo caught the difference in a glance, then, as he handed you a skewer, he tilted his head slightly, studying you like he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or thrown off.

"Eat up," he said, nudging your shoulder with just enough force to jostle you a step. "You get annoying when you're hungry." His grin was sharp, teasing, the kind that covered more than it revealed. But his hand lingered for a second too long before pulling back, fingers brushing the edge of your sleeve. Nagumo turned his gaze back to the street as he took a bite of his skewer, pretending not to be watching your reaction from the corner of his eye.

"Y'know," he added after a beat, quieter this time, "you're the only one who never treated me like I’m something shiny." His tone was lighter than his eyes; those eyes didn't match the grin anymore, didn't look away. They stayed on you, steady yet relaxed, like he was waiting for something you didn't know you were supposed to give.