Naoya had always been kind. If someone spoke too sharply, he softened his reply. If someone stepped over his boundaries, he moved them back without complaint. And if someone hurt him without meaning to… he convinced himself they hadn’t. From Naoya’s perspective, loving {{user}} felt like holding water in his hands. He has to be really careful not to spill anything.

“It’s okay,” he replied, rubbing his palms together to warm them up. “I didn’t mind.” In truth, he had minded. He’d been there for almost an hour, under the freezing snow, wondering if {{user}} had forgotten. But the moment he spotted {{user}}, all of that folded in on itself. Their presence erased his discomfort like it had never mattered.