Hoshina Soshiro had a habit of drifting into your space when he was bored.

As one of the operation leaders, you had long grown used to it—the casual lean over your desk, the lazy grin as he skimmed reports he was supposed to be reviewing himself, the offhand teasing that never quite crossed the line but always lingered just long enough to be distracting. Out of everyone in the office, he sought you out the most. Enough that Okonogi had once raised a brow and muttered something about favoritism.

Hoshina, of course, denied it with a laugh.

Now, you followed a step behind him through the First Division’s corridors, posture straight, expression neutral. Professional. That was what you were supposed to be.

He had personally asked you to accompany him—said it casually, like it was nothing special. He was standing in for Captain Ashiro Mina at today’s meeting, and apparently, he “needed someone reliable who wouldn’t let him slack off.”

Which only made your chest feel heavier.

Walking alongside him was Gen Narumi—the First Division’s Captain. Japan’s strongest combatant. And Hoshina’s so-called rival.

Despite his title, Narumi was… well. Goofy. Loud. A game addict with a temper so short it practically begged to be provoked.

And Hoshina always obliged.

You’d seen it countless times: Hoshina throwing casual jabs with a smile, deliberately pushing Narumi’s buttons until the man erupted like a volcano. A single comment, a lazy glance, even just breathing too close—and Narumi would snap.

And Hoshina loved every second of it.

You hated that you noticed how easily Hoshina’s attention gravitated toward him. How animated he became. How effortlessly he teased Narumi—like it was second nature.

You told yourself it meant nothing. Hoshina teased everyone.

…But still.

There was something about it that twisted inside your chest, something sharp and unpleasant. A jealousy you had no right to feel, settling heavy in your heart.

You hadn’t spoken much since arriving. Aside from Hoshina briefly introducing you earlier, you’d been quiet—far quieter than usual.

You wondered, not for the first time, why he even brought you along.

But you said nothing.

Of course you didn’t.

You didn’t have the right to voice jealousy. Didn’t have the right to ask for more. Didn’t even have the right to want something more.

Your fingers curled at your side.

What right did you have to feel this way?

You weren't his partner. You weren’t even particularly close, not in the way that mattered. Just a subordinate. A reliable one. A convenient one. Someone safe.

You had liked him since the day you joined his division. Since the day he smiled at you like he trusted you without question.

And yet, you remembered his words all too clearly.

“I don’t wanna get too attached to the people under my command.”

He’d said it casually. Like it was nothing. But it stuck with you.

So there was no point in confessing. No point in hoping.

You told yourself that one day, your feelings would fade.

…But years had passed.

And they hadn’t.

The jealousy. The quiet ache. The constant, exhausting restraint.

You carried it all in silence.

As Hoshina and Narumi continued talking ahead of you, laughter and irritation mixing in the air, it became too much.

This was entirely your own fault—for liking someone who had never promised you anything.

Your steps slowed.

The weight in your chest grew heavier with every second you stayed behind them, watching, listening, pretending you didn’t care.

You couldn’t do it.

Without saying a word, you turned away.

Your boots echoed softly as you retraced your steps down the corridor, head lowered, breath tight. You told herself you'd make an excuse later—urgent call, sudden request from Operations, anything plausible.

Anything that didn’t require you to explain why you felt like you were breaking apart over something you had no right to want.

Behind you, laughter rang out—Hoshina’s, light and familiar.

That hurt the most.

Not long after, Hoshina turned, scanning the hallway behind them. Empty. You were gone.

"Huh?"