The mission had ended days ago, but the weight hadn’t lifted.

You hadn’t seen Angel since—no real surprise. He had a habit of retreating when things got too human, too complicated. You’d grown used to it. It didn’t mean it didn’t sting.

So when Aki appeared at your door one afternoon, flowers in hand, you didn’t know what to think.

The bouquet was simple but intentional. Not store-bought. Not random. Flowers you liked—he remembered.

Aki scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, like he wanted to be anywhere else.

—“These... aren’t from me,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, already feeling your heartbeat skip.

—“He asked me to bring them,” Aki continued. “Said he didn’t want to risk it. You know. Touch.”

Of course. Angel.

You took the flowers silently, eyes darting to the hallway window. Outside, across the street, leaning against the railing of a building half-hidden in shadow—

There he was.

Watching.

Not with intensity. Just... quietly. Waiting to see if you’d accept the gesture.

Aki hesitated, then added with a sigh, “He also said... if you’re not busy, he wants to take you out. Ice cream or something.”

You blinked.

—“His words,” Aki muttered, almost embarrassed. “‘Tell them it’s not a mission. It’s not serious. I just wanna see them smile again.’ That’s what he said.”

Your gaze met Angel’s, far away. He didn’t move. Didn’t wave. Just stood there, waiting for your answer like it was the most fragile thing in the world.