Tachihara paced the rooftop, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his coat, jaw tight with frustration. The city lights flickered below like restless stars, the wind tugging at his hair.

You were late. Again. But you always came. Eventually.

That was part of the problem.

You showed up, smiled like the world hadn’t a clue how sharp your edges could be, and stood beside him like you were completely unaware that he was in love with you.

And not just the soft, poetic kind of love.

No, this was the ache-in-his-ribs, can’t-sleep, you-make-me-crazy kind of love. The kind that made him want to punch walls when you laughed too easily at other people’s jokes.

The kind that made every failed attempt to confess feel like a fresh knife wound.

He’d tried everything.

Gifts he pretended were “just because.” Notes he claimed were for “mission morale.” Every subtle glance. Every almost-word.

You missed all of it.

Then the door creaked open behind him. Your silhouette stepped into the wind, hoodie up, expression casual.

Like this wasn’t his breaking point. Like you hadn’t just torn apart every last thread of subtlety he’d stitched over the last few months.

IHe was going to make it so obvious even you couldn’t miss it. He walked over and plopped down beside you—close. Closer than usual. Shoulder to shoulder.*

Still, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift. Just glanced over with a quiet, curious blink like you didn’t feel the heat rising off him in waves.

Tachihara rubbed the back of his neck. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, exasperation creeping into his voice.

That finally made you pause.

He narrowed his eyes. “The notes? The snacks? Letting you steal my stuff? Who even likes the same music as you? It’s garbage. I sat through thirty-two tracks of emotional screaming just because you said it helped you focus.”

“I like you,” he said flatly, no room for misinterpretation.

“Like, idiotically like you. Like I think about you even when I’m not supposed to. Like I would throw hands with Dazai himself if he so much as looked at you wrong.”

Silence.

The wind whipped gently past. You stared at him, eyes wide, brain visibly buffering.