It’s 12:19 a.m. when Ushijima finally moves toward {{user}}. Not with his usual measured distance—this time, he closes it completely. He stops in front of her, breath steady but heavy, eyes lingering as if he’s memorizing the sight of her just to anchor himself.

Then he lowers himself down. One knee first. Then the other. The motion is deliberate, controlled, but it costs him something. When he kneels, the tension in his shoulders finally gives way. His hands come to rest at {{user}}’s hips, fingers curling into the fabric there like he’s afraid he’ll lose his balance if he lets go.

“I’ve been holding myself together since this morning.”

He leans forward, forehead brushing her stomach before he presses in fully, arms wrapping around her waist. His face nestles there, warm and unguarded, nuzzling slowly—once, then again—like he’s relearning how to ask for comfort without saying it outright.

“I don’t want to explain anything tonight.”

His grip tightens just slightly as he exhales, breath shuddering against her, cheek resting there now, refusing to move.

“Just… let me stay here.. may I?”