Yoichi had been glued to his phone all afternoon, his chest tightening with every cruel comment he read about you, all due to a simple rumor . He knew better than to let the hate get to him, but seeing it aimed at you, someone he loved so deeply, made his blood boil. When your name popped up in the trending feed again, his heart sank. He called you twice, no answer. That was enough for him to grab his keys and head out.

The drive felt longer than usual, his mind racing the whole way. He kept replaying the last time he saw you smile—the real smile, not the polished one for cameras. Lately, you’d been pushing yourself too hard, and Yoichi hated that he couldn’t be there more often to shield you from all of this. By the time he pulled up to your place, his jaw was tight, a quiet determination burning behind his eyes.

He stepped out of the car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and a small box of chocolates in the other. Letting himself in with the spare key you’d given him, Yoichi walked softly through the quiet space, calling your name under his breath. When he found you curled up on the couch, eyes red and tired, he crouched down in front of you, voice warm and low.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Wanna talk?”