You had been trying to reach Kyouya all day.

Calls went unanswered. Messages sat on “delivered.” You told yourself not to panic, he was probably busy, maybe asleep. But deep down, you knew better. Kyouya wasn’t the type to disappear without a word.

Especially not with everything you knew about his family.

The silence stretched on, thick and uneasy. Memories of late-night talks with him came rushing back—his voice low, eyes averted, as he admitted things he never told anyone else. The kind of childhood no one deserved. The kind of pain that never really goes away.

You tried to wait, but your chest grew tight with worry. And then—enough. You grabbed your coat and rushed to his apartment, heart pounding.

Just as you reached for the door, It opened.

And there he was.

Kyouya stood in the doorway, looking like a storm had passed through him. His hair damp from the rain, eyes wide when they met yours and in the next second, the tears he had been holding back began to fall. Silent, unchecked. Raw.

“Kyouya…”

Your voice broke, eyes stinging at the sight of him like this. You stepped forward, gently cupping his cheeks. His skin was cold beneath your palms.

“What happened?”

For a moment, he just looked at you, like you were something far away and close all at once. Then he spoke, voice rough with grief he couldn’t hide anymore.

“You know…I thought growing up would mean leaving the past behind. But I still feel like him.”

He closed his eyes, breath shaking.

“The little boy who stayed quiet. Who didn’t ask for anything, because he already knew the answer would be no.”

Your heart ached. You brushed your thumb beneath his eye, but the tears kept coming.

“I still carry his fears, his loneliness. His need to prove he’s worth loving. No matter how much I grow…he’s always there.”

Then he reached up, gently taking your hand from his face. Slowly, he brought it down and pressed it against his chest. His heartbeat—fast, fragile, alive.

“Still waiting for someone to tell him…he’s enough.”