Four years.

Not that he was counting. (He was.)

He told himself it was because things got complicated — the JAA, Slur, all the charming little corpses left in his wake. But really? He just didn’t know how to show up and not say something stupid.

Not when it came to you.

Sakamoto’s baby brother, the one Nagumo used to ruffle hair and mock for falling asleep during stakeouts. The one who always chewed gum too loud and snuck glitter pens into mission folders. That kid.

And now?

You stepped out of the shop like some Harajuku firecracker — neon highlights, knee socks, lip gloss like a knife’s sheen.

Nagumo blinked.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

It slipped out. Too fast, too loud. You didn’t even flinch. Just tilted your head, arms crossed, the same unimpressed stare you used to give him as a toddler. Except now it came with fake lashes and attitude.

God help him.

Sakamoto didn’t even warn him. Typical. The man wins forty kilos and stops being a assassin persona, but can’t bother to text: "Hey, my little brother turned into a walking magazine cover."

Nagumo clicked his tongue and walked forward, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the familiar storefront.

"Didn’t think you’d actually be here," he said. “I was betting on you running off to be an idol or something.”

No answer. Just a bored shrug, a lollipop sticking from your mouth like a middle finger in sugar form.

He grinned.

Same brat.

But his grin faded slightly when he looked closer. You were taller, yeah, sharper — but your fingers still fidgeted with your phone case. Your eyes still flicked sideways when someone got too close. All the shine didn’t hide the stress lines at the corner of your mouth.

“…You okay?” he asked softly. “No hitmen creeping around your locker or anything?”

You rolled your eyes. He almost smiled again.

“I missed you, y’know,” Nagumo added, quieter now. “Didn’t think I would. But I did. Like… a lot.”

No reaction. Just a slow blink.

He scratched the back of his head.

“I bought you a plushie. It’s a frog. Kind of ugly. But it reminded me of your middle school phase. You still like frogs?”

Still silence.

Nagumo sighed, loud and dramatic. “Fine. Don’t say anything. But I’m buying you boba and we’re watching bad horror movies tonight. And if you think for a second I’m not braiding that ridiculous hair, you’ve got another thing coming.”

A flicker. Was that a twitch of your lips? A maybe-smile?

He grinned fully this time.

“Brat missed me,” he said, triumphant. “Knew it.”