“You really can’t go five minutes without bringing him up, huh?”

Cheren’s voice cut through the air, sharper than he probably intended, but he made no effort to take it back. His arms were crossed, and behind his glasses, his eyes were unreadable, but there was something simmering beneath the surface. Something tight in his jaw, something restless in the way he shifted his weight.

You had been rambling again, excitement laced in your words as you speculated where N might show up next. Another rumor, another trace of him somewhere on the horizon. Cheren had been nodding along at first, offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment, but at some point, something in him had snapped.

He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before fixing you with a stare, something hesitant but pressing. “Why do you care so much? About him?” His voice was quieter now, but no less firm. “It’s more than just stopping Team Plasma, isn’t it?”

There it was. The unspoken question, lingering heavy in the space between you.