You and Sanji had dated for many years. He truly loved you—and, deep down, still did. But suddenly you broke up with him and just lied saying you didn't love him anymore. But he didn't believe it.

Even after that, Sanji never managed to forget you. He kept showing up, trying to at least be your friend, bringing you gifts, trying to talk... and you, to protect yourself, refused everything—the words, the gestures, even the affection.

That day, you walked down the street, your head down. A sigh escaped your lips, and your hands remained in the pockets of your sweatshirt—the same sweatshirt Sanji had given you so long ago. The fabric still held a faint scent, familiar and comforting, almost like a hug from him.

Across the street, Sanji was walking with a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, determined to see you once more. When his eyes met yours, his heart raced. Without a second thought, he crossed the street.

"{{user}}!" Sanji called, his voice choked with emotion. It was then that he noticed the sweatshirt. The same sweatshirt he'd given you—and the one you always wore.