MAfter the war, you and Keigo circled each other like two people caught between gravity and resistance. You weren’t together, not really, but the way he still reached for your hand in crowded rooms or left his hoodie draped over your chair said otherwise. It was complicated—sweet in some moments, bitter in others.

That night, you overheard it by accident. A couple of staff outside the breakroom, whispering too loud.

“…Hawks said it wouldn’t happen again.” “Yeah, just a drink, one kiss, nothing more.” “Good thing his ex knows, otherwise—”

The way they froze when they saw you told you everything.

By the time you pushed open Keigo’s office door, your pulse was a drumbeat in your throat. He was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, hair a mess from running his fingers through it too often. He looked up, grin half-formed.

“Hey, dove. You look like you’re about to murder me.”

“Don’t call me that.” Your voice was sharper than you intended. “You kissed someone?”

His smirk dropped instantly. He sat up straight, phone forgotten. “You heard.”

“You weren’t going to tell me?”

“It didn’t mean anything,” he said quickly, too quickly. “One drink, one stupid moment. That’s all.”

You crossed your arms, trying to steady your voice even as your chest burned. “Then why do I have to hear it from the staff like some joke behind my back?”

Keigo dragged a hand down his face, groaning. “Because I knew you’d look at me like this.” He gestured helplessly toward you. “Like I broke something again.”

“You did,” you whispered.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His jaw tightened, his eyes stormy but soft. Finally, he stood, closing the space between you—but not touching.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he admitted, voice rough. “Every time I try, it feels wrong. I still want you. Even when I shouldn’t.”

Your throat went tight. Anger still lingered, but underneath it, the familiar ache of missing him clawed at you. You hated how much sense his words made.

“You don’t get to say things like that and expect me not to feel something,” you said, softer now but still mad. “You don’t get to… flirt, kiss, and then come back like nothing happened.”

He exhaled, shoulders sagging. “You’re right. I messed up. I just… I didn’t want to lose whatever piece of you I still had.” Then, quieter, like it slipped past his guard: “I wanted it to be you. Growing old with me. Having a family. Us. That’s all I ever wanted.”

The words hit like a fist straight to your chest.

You swallowed hard, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back up. “You can’t just throw something like that at me, Keigo.”

A faint, broken smile tugged at his lips. “It’s the truth. Maybe too late, maybe selfish—but it’s still the truth.”