Hanta had never held onto a relationship once in all 24 years of living.

In high school, before the war, he had been too laid back. Too focused on himself, his friends, having a good time.

After the war, he found it harder to open up, to be vulnerable with anyone else. Usually, when someone would ask him what was wrong, he'd brush them off with a laugh or a joke. What he went through doesn't even amount to the things his other classmates did, after all. It wasn't important.

So why, out of all his flings, all his meaningless flirts, was he still hung up on you? You weren't anything special, not really. Just someone he had seen a few times last June.

Maybe that's why when the air started getting like this, humid, sticky with air that had a small hint of sweetness in it, he thought of you.

He ignored Sato, who was on his third beer of the night. A cigarette dangled between Sero's lips, his eyes focused on his phone, and his thumb hovering over the "call" button beneath your contact.