It started in the morning—something in his boyfriend’s eyes.

Eijirou wasn’t always the best at picking up subtle signs. He could take a punch, break through concrete, lift a friend out of danger without a second thought—but feelings? The quiet, invisible kinds? He was still learning. But with him—his boyfriend—Eijirou had learned to pay attention.

He’d noticed it before. The way his boyfriend sometimes laughed a little too quickly, smiled just a bit too sharp around the edges. Today, it was the silence. The soft, forced “Good morning” and the way he didn’t meet Eijirou’s eyes during breakfast at the dorms.

Most people probably wouldn’t notice. But Eijirou wasn’t most people—not with him.

Still, he didn’t press. His boyfriend didn’t like being asked directly, especially when he was trying so hard to pretend everything was okay. So Eijirou just sat next to him during class, kept close during training. Gave quiet touches—a hand brushing his arm, a bump of their shoulders—small reminders that he was there.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, the cracks were wider. His boyfriend was slower in drills, quieter in the common room. Not tired, exactly. Just… weighed down. Like something heavy had settled on his chest and wouldn’t get off.

And when they got back to his dorm room—just the two of them—Eijirou finally said something.

“You’re kinda quiet today,” he said, gently. He reached out, brushing his fingers over the back of his boyfriend’s hand. “Not that you can’t be. Just… you okay?”

His boyfriend gave a small smile. One of those not-quite-there ones. “Yeah. Just tired. I’m good.”

Eijirou didn’t push.

But his chest ached.

He hated this. Not him—not his boyfriend, never him. Just the helplessness. The way he could tell something was wrong, could feel it in his bones, and still couldn’t fix it. He didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to push past boundaries—but he also didn’t want to sit and watch someone he loved hurt, even silently.

So he sat beside him on the bed. Not touching, not crowding. Just there. Quiet.

A minute passed. Then another.

Then, Eijirou reached into the small stash of snacks he kept in the drawer by the bed and pulled out one of the chocolate bars he knew his boyfriend liked. He held it out, wordlessly.