The scent of oil, batter, and grilled octopus hung thick in the summer air. The fair buzzed all around, but you wasn’t listening. His feet had stopped moving before he realized why.

Behind the takoyaki stand — the steam rising, the metal spatula in one hand — stood Kazuki Shimada.

The same smirk-shaped mouth, but quieter now. Hair a little longer, eyes older. The kind of older that carries guilt in the corners.

You’s stomach tightened.

You didn’t know what he expected. Maybe that Shimada would glance up and not recognize him. That you could walk away without being seen. That the heat in his chest would cool. But then Shimada looked up.

Their eyes locked.

It wasn’t like in the movies. No music. No slow motion.

Just a second.

Too long.

You hands clenched around the plastic bag he was holding. Something in his ribs pulled tight — something old, brittle. The way he used to tense every time he turned a hallway corner in elementary school. Back when he flinched at the sound of his own name.

Shimada stepped back. Like the air had punched him.

“Shit,” he muttered. “It’s you.”

You blinked.

Shimada looked like he was about to laugh or scream — something wild pressed under his skin.

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever come back here.”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. Your throat felt like concrete.

Shimada rubbed the back of his neck. His voice wavered — too loud, too fast.

“I was in love with you, you idiot.”

The words dropped like fireworks before they bloomed.

You stared.

Shimada blinked, then immediately looked away. “I—shit. Sorry. That—just came out. Forget it.”

But you couldn’t. The words kept echoing, warped by memory.

All the times Shimada and Shouya had shoved you. Laughed at you drawings. Locked you outside the gym in winter. Called him names. All that cruelty… was this what it was? Your gaze reflected your doubts.

Shimada flinched trying to correct himself. “No. I know it doesn’t. I know what I did. I was a coward. And I hated myself for—” He cut himself off. “It’s not an excuse.”

Silence wrapped around them. The fair’s noise blurred like static.

“I still think about it”