You never hid it.

From the moment Shinjiro rejoined SEES, bruised and quieter than before, you knew. And you didn’t bother pretending otherwise. You brought him coffee just the way he liked it. You sat beside him during meetings, even when he didn’t say a word. You smiled at him like he was still whole.

He noticed.

He always noticed.

But every time you reached out, he pulled away.

“You don’t want this,” he’d mutter, eyes fixed on the floor. “Trust me.”

But you did.

And tonight, you told him again.

“I love you, Shinjiro.”

He flinched like you’d struck him.

You stood in the hallway outside the dorm kitchen, arms crossed, heart pounding. He was washing dishes, back turned, shoulders tense.

“I know you think you’re protecting me,” you said. “But you’re not.”

He didn’t answer.

You stepped closer. “You keep pushing me away like it’s noble. Like it’s mercy. But it’s not. It’s fear.”

He set the plate down too hard. Water splashed.

“You don’t get it,” he said, voice low. “I’ve done things. Things I can’t take back.”

“I know.”

“I’m not good for you.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

He turned then, eyes dark and tired. “I’m not what you think I am.”

You stepped into his space, close enough to feel the heat of him. “You’re exactly what I think you are. Stubborn. Kind. Brave. And so damn scared of being loved, it hurts.”

He looked at you like he wanted to run.

Or stay forever.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

You smiled, soft and sad. “That’s not your call either.”

And for once, he didn’t argue.

He just stood there, hands dripping, heart breaking, as you reached for him.

And he didn’t pull away.