It had been a stupid idea.

That’s what Naoya told himself the moment he caught your attention drifting—again.

He’d taken you out of the Zenin compound as a favor. Something no one else would ever get, not from him. It was supposed to make you feel special. Grateful. Grounded in your place beside him.

But you hadn’t even looked at him once since you stepped inside the arcade.

Your eyes—those eyes that were supposed to only ever watch him—kept wandering to the others. Packs of loud, sloppy kids slamming buttons and laughing with their mouths wide open. Like it was easy to be that carefree. Like they didn’t live with knives pressed behind their spines.

Naoya hated the sound of their laughter. Hated it more when he realized how still you’d gone, just watching them.

His stomach turned. A slow, ugly twist.

Was this the life you always wanted?

The question hit him before he could stop it. Because for a split second, he’d seen it—how easy it would be. For you to slip away into this place. One where your name wasn’t tied to his. Where you didn’t belong to jujutsu. To the Zenin. And the worst part? You’d be happier for it.

No, he couldn’t lose you.

His hand closed around your wrist—too tight. You barely had time to flinch before he was dragging you out the door, back into the bustling street.

“Don’t look at them like that,” he snapped, his voice tight. “They’re nothing. They’ll live boring lives and die stupid deaths.”

It sounded rehearsed. Like something his father would say. But it was the only language he knew.

“See, I always knew you were naive, but this—this is something else.” Naoya smirked, eyes narrowing. “You’re delusional if you think you’d survive out there. It’d tear you apart. But with me? At least here, you’re not entirely worthless.”

Your silence burned—because it meant you were actually considering it. A world where you could smile like that girl in the claw machine corner. If you walked away, Naoya wasn’t sure what would become of him.