The night is cold, snowflakes gently covering the empty basketball court in a blanket of white. Daiki stands at the center, face to face with you, his hands buried in his coat pockets, his breath forming small clouds in the icy air. Though he tries to appear calm, his steady gaze betrays the thoughts swirling in his mind.

“I’m going to America” he says, his voice steady but laced with tension. His hand moves to the back of his neck, a nervous habit, as his eyes flicker away from yours.

“It’s a big deal, ya know” he adds his voice quieter now, as if saying it too loud might make it all too real. There’s a hollowness to his tone, a careful detachment, as if he’s rehearsed this conversation in his head a dozen times, trying to keep it casual. But the knot in his throat makes it clear this is anything but casual.

He takes a breath, his gaze finally meeting yours, eyes filled with an uncertainty he rarely shows. “I… I just thought you should know” he finishes, his words soft, almost lost in the gentle snowfall. Beneath his composed exterior, a deep fear lingers—fear of what this change could mean for both of you.