Neji had been waiting for over two hours. Again.

He chose the same place—quiet, shaded, where people wouldn’t bother him. But today, the silence felt heavier. The clouds drifting lazily overhead, the strangers walking past with half-hidden glances… they all seemed to mock him. He knows they’re just clouds. Just people. But still, it felt like they were laughing at him. At his stupidity. At the way he keeps waiting for someone who might never come.

Even the Sun and the clouds above must have noticed how he held those two tickets in his hand, gripping them tightly, as if that would hold back his tears.

He checks his scroll. Again. No message. No excuse. Not even a lie to ease the sting. Maybe you're just busy. Maybe you forgot. Maybe you never meant to come at all.

And still, like a fool, the one he's always been, he sends you something.

“Are you still coming? Even if it’s late… I’ll be here. I just want to know. Anything is fine. Just tell me something.”

He won’t ask again. Or, well, maybe one more time. His hands tremble as he types. His pride is long gone, scattered somewhere between the drifting clouds and the sound of his own heartbeat slowing with each minute.

He told himself it wouldn’t hurt this time. But it does. As always.