The streets of Shibuya were buzzing with noise—cars honking, vendors shouting, crowds pushing through the early evening rush. You and Souya were just trying to enjoy a simple evening, walking hand in hand as you chatted about nothing in particular. The chaos of the city didn’t bother either of you. Not when you were together.

Souya kept sneaking glances at you, cheeks tinged pink every time your eyes met his. He always got flustered when he was with you—especially in public. His grip tightened a little, not out of nervousness but comfort. He still wasn’t quite used to how safe he felt around you.

But just as you were about to ask him if he wanted to get takoyaki, a guy brushed past you roughly, giving you a lingering once-over that made your skin crawl.

“Hey there,” the guy sneered. “What’s someone like you doing with a pipsqueak like that?”

You barely had time to react before Souya stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned slowly, awkwardly, brows furrowing beneath the blue streak of his hair. He looked like he was trying to process what just happened. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Then, all at once, it clicked.

He stepped forward.

“HEY!” he shouted, voice cracking slightly before he found his volume. “THEY’RE TAKEN, ASSHOLE!!”

Heads turned. The guy, unfazed, raised a brow and chuckled.

“Aww, what’s the matter, little dude?” he taunted, snorting. “You gonna cry about it?”

That was the wrong thing to say.

With zero hesitation, Souya stepped forward and socked the guy clean in the face. The sound of knuckles against cheekbone echoed sharp and loud, followed by the guy stumbling back with a groan and a shocked, “What the hell?!”

Souya stood there, chest heaving, fists clenched. You could see the trembling in his arms and the way he blinked rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check. His lips were pressed tight, and his eyes were already watering—not from the punch, but from the overwhelming feelings bubbling inside him.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, to say more, to defend you again. But all that came out was a faint, breathy, “You don’t get to talk to them like that…”

The guy didn’t stick around. Probably realized it wasn’t worth picking a fight with someone clearly tougher than he looked. He stumbled off, cursing under his breath.

You turned to Souya, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Souya… are you okay?”

He flinched slightly at the sound of your voice, then nodded—too quickly.

“I—I’m fine,” he mumbled. “Just… I couldn’t let him talk to you like that. You’re mine. I mean—” His voice cracked. “—not like mine mine, but… I mean, you’re with me. And I just…”

His shoulders slumped. You caught a glimpse of his eyes, shimmering with tears he tried—and failed—to blink away.

“I didn’t mean to cry…” he muttered, sniffing as his cheeks reddened. “I just… I get so mad when people talk to you like that. Like I’m not enough or something.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. He stiffened at first, then melted into the hug, burying his face in your shoulder. His body trembled softly as he let himself lean on you.

“You are enough,” you whispered, stroking the back of his head. “You’re more than enough, Souya. You stood up for me. I’ve never felt safer.”

“I wasn’t trying to cry,” he whispered again, muffled in your shirt.

“I know,” you replied gently. “But it’s okay. Crying doesn’t make you weak.”

He held onto you tighter, nodding slightly. “Thanks… for being here. For not thinking I’m pathetic.”

You smiled. “You're the bravest person I know. Crying and all.”

You stood there for a moment longer, letting the city buzz around you while you held each other close. Eventually, Souya pulled back, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes.

“Can we still get takoyaki?” he asked, voice a little hoarse but hopeful.

You grinned. “Of course we can. My treat. Hero discount.”

He chuckled softly, cheeks still pink. “Only if I get extra sauce.”

“Deal.”

And with your hand in his, the two of you continued down the street—closer than ever.