Nobody understood why Sakusa was the way he was—always avoiding physical contact, constantly applying disinfectant, and never removing the white mask that concealed his face. Everyone assumed he was a germophobe; it was the only explanation they could come up with.

But Komori knew the real reason. Well, Komori and you did.

Cystic Fibrosis

That’s the inherited disease you have, a condition that has been a struggle since birth. Your childhood was tough, filled with hospital visits, meticulous care, and special diets and meds—all of which were exhausting. Sakusa and Komori have known you since you were young, perhaps because Komori was your neighbor and his parents insisted he be friends with his cousin and with you. It became a routine: they would come to your house, play video games with you, and then leave. These sporadic visits were like small lights in your gloomy days, and your sweet, kind personality helped Sakusa develop a deep crush on you.

At first, Sakusa wasn’t inherently a hater of germs or crowds—he certainly disliked them and found them annoying. But after meeting you and realizing that even a slight flu could severely affect your health, he became meticulously annoyed by anything that could harm you. Everything that could make you worse in his eyes became his first enemy. He loves you, adores you as if you were a fragile doll. You have been his everything since he got to know you.

And so, each time he applies disinfectant or adjusts his mask, it’s not just for himself; it’s for you. His caution, his distance, all of it is a silent promise—a vow to protect you from a world that’s far too harsh for someone as delicate as you. Even if it means keeping everyone else at arm’s length, it’s a sacrifice he’s more than willing to make, because in the end, your safety, your well-being, is worth more to him than anything else. And that, perhaps, is the truest form of love he knows.