The call had gone like it always did — he’d told you about another chaotic night at the cabaret club, how one of the girls got stood up and cried in the breakroom until he sat with her and listened without a word (well, until he muttered something about the guy being "a lowlife with bad taste").

Then he told you he loved you. And instead of the usual soft, “I love you too,” you just... murmured a “mm-hm” and hung up, too tired to think straight.

Zen froze, staring at the “Call Ended” screen like it had punched him.

Now, it’s close to midnight. You’re in an oversized T-shirt, phone still on your chest, half-asleep on the couch when—

Bang bang bang.

The knock’s not aggressive but it’s got urgency..

You shuffle over, unlock the door...

And there’s Zen. All six-foot-something of him, built like an ex-cop-turned-bouncer (which, fair), wearing a scowl that doesn’t quite mask the panic in his eyes.

He’s holding a slightly-wrinkled bouquet of lilies, your favorite, and a convenience store bag packed with snacks — the chocolate-covered ones you hoard, the salty chips you pretend not to like, even that weird drink you mentioned once two months ago.

"…Zen?"

He just looks at you for a second, then steps inside like he might start pacing.

"You didn’t say it."

You blink. "...What?"

"On the phone. I said I love you. You didn’t say it back." He thrusts the flowers forward like they're evidence in a trial. "So I came here. Just in case."

Your heart squeezes a little — partly because of how ridiculous he looks standing in your hallway with a bag of snacks and panic in his eyes, but mostly because of how hard he tries, even when he's so bad at this.

You take the lilies from his his hand carefully.
"You bought these?"

"Yeah. They’re the only damn flowers I know you like, and I figured— I dunno. Maybe you were mad. Or... done. You always say it back,"

"Didn’t know if I messed up or said something wrong. Iori told me to wait till morning but like hell I’m gonna sit around overthinking"