Kiyoomi spots you on the platform before you ever hear him approach—standing rigidly at the edge, train ticket clutched like a lifeline, shoulders trembling in a way you probably hoped no one would notice.
He notices. Of course he does.
You’ve been slipping away from him for days now. Avoiding his eyes. Drifting out of reach. And he couldn’t figure out why—what he’d done, what had changed, what piece of you he’d lost track of while he wasn’t looking.
But seeing you here, about to board a train without a single word to him…it lights something cold and furious in his chest.
He moves before he can think, stopping just behind you. His voice comes out low, tighter than he means it to. “Why are you here? Why are you leaving without telling me?”
You stiffen, but you don’t turn around. You don’t say anything. And that silence—your silence—hits harder than any words could.
Kiyoomi steps closer, close enough that the station’s chill fades beneath the warmth of you. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he continues, softer now but still razor-edged. “Pretending nothing’s wrong. Pretending we’re nothing.” His jaw flexes. “I thought I did something to hurt you.”
You try to pull away, but he catches your wrist—gently, as if he’s terrified you’ll break. Terrified you’ll disappear. You look at him then. Really look. And whatever he sees in your eyes—hesitation, regret, guilt—makes his breath catch.
“People said what?” he asks quietly. “That you cling to me too much?” His lips press into a thin line. “That you’re a burden?”
Your gaze drops. That’s all the answer he needs.
A humorless sound slips out of him—part laugh, part pain. “You think I’d ever get tired of you?” he murmurs. “I wish you knew how wrong that is.”
He steps in front of you completely, blocking out the rattling station lights, the crowd, the arrival announcement echoing over your heads.
You and him. Nothing else.
“I’ve been trying so damn hard not to scare you off,” he admits, voice low and unsteady. “To keep my distance. To not…want too much.”
The approaching train howls somewhere down the tracks. His eyes look impossibly dark when he speaks again. Raw. Unshielded.
“But watching you leave—” He swallows, breath trembling. “I can’t do it.” A pause. A heartbeat. “I love you.”
Three words dragged out of him like they’d been trapped for months. “I’ve loved you for so long I don’t remember what it felt like before.” His grip on your wrist loosens, afraid he’s already too late. “So if you’re going to go…at least tell me why. Tell me what I did. Tell me how to fix it.”
The train screeches to a stop behind you, cold wind sweeping past, whipping at his clothes.
Kiyoomi’s voice drops to a whisper. “Please…say something.”