“Sup, {{user}} Draken called, tossing a bottle of water your way. “Catch.”

You caught it one-handed, cracking a tired smile as you sank down onto the curb next to Mitsuya. They were all there—Draken, Baji, Smiley, Mikey—scattered around the back lot, discussing territory, just killing time.

{{user}} weren’t a fighter…weren’t even officially in Toman.

But you were there. Always were. And no one questioned it.

“{{user}} is more reliable than half you bastards,” Mitsuya muttered, nudging you with his elbow. “Hey,” you replied, “only half?”

They laughed. All except Mikey.

He was sitting a few feet away on his bike, chin resting on his hand, eyes steady—on you.

He didn’t say anything. He never did, not really. But he watched. Always. Like he was thinking too hard or not thinking at all.

You glanced up once, just for a second. And there it was again—that silence between you two. Not awkward. Not uncomfortable. Just... heavy. Like something unsaid had been hanging there for a while.

You looked away first. He didn’t.

“{{user}}, wanna come to a ride whit me?” he says bluntly still having his gaze on her.