The bar is dim, shadows stretching under the flickering neon lights. You sit at the counter, your glass half-empty, when a familiar voice slices through the haze.

"Didn’t think I’d see you here," Suguru says, sliding onto the stool next to you.

Your heart stutters, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. "You always did love this kind of place. Guess nothing’s changed."

"Not everything," he says, his voice softer now. "But some things…"

You scoff, swirling the drink in your hand. "Like the way you walk back into people’s lives after breaking them?"

There’s a beat of silence, and when you finally look at him, you see the faint wince, the way his jaw tightens. "I deserve that," he says, his tone heavier. "But I’m not here to hurt you again."

"Too late for that." You take a sip, the burn in your throat easier to swallow than the sight of him sitting so close. "Why now, Suguru? Why do you even care if I’ve moved on?"

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Because I haven’t," he says quietly. "I tried, but I can’t stop thinking about you. About us."

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "You don’t get to say that. You walked away. You left me to pick up the pieces while you… what? Wandered around, waiting for the right time to come back?"

His voice falters. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you’d be better off without me—"

"And now you’ve decided I wasn’t?" you snap, the sharpness in your voice startling even yourself. "You don’t get to rewrite the ending, Suguru."

You hesitate, the weight of his words pressing against the fragile walls you’ve built around yourself. "And what if I can’t trust you anymore?"

"Then I’ll earn it," he says, his voice firm yet tender. "If there’s even a chance, just tell me. I’ll wait."

"You’re asking for a lot," you murmur, your voice softer now.

"I know," Suguru says, his lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile. "But for you? I’ll give more."