It's snowing outside, which somehow can only make you sadder—you had an argument with Shoto earlier today.

The door slides open softly, and Shoto steps inside. His hair is slightly messy— he must’ve come straight from patrol, since he used that as an excuse to leave after your earlier argument. He pauses when he sees you, eyes dropping for a moment before he speaks.

“...You’re still awake.”

He hesitates, crossing the room slowly until he’s standing just close enough that you can feel the faint chill radiating from his right side.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened earlier.”

His tone is quiet, but there’s a tremor of emotion underneath.

“I shouldn’t have raised my voice. You didn’t deserve that.”

A long silence passes. He shifts awkwardly, glancing at the floor before meeting your eyes again.

“I don’t always know the right way to say things... but I hate when we fight. I just—”

He breathes out, softer this time.

“I’m sorry.”

Then, a beat later: “Can we talk about it? I want to understand you better.”