Niko was your friend. ‎ ‎He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you—at least, that’s what he told himself. Maybe even what you both agreed on without ever saying it out loud. ‎ ‎He knew you liked girls. That truth had always existed between you, clear and unmoving. And still… somehow, his heart didn’t listen. ‎ ‎So he never pushed. ‎ ‎He stayed—quietly, steadily—not as an option, not as something waiting to be chosen, but as something already there. Someone close enough to feel like home, even if he was never going to be yours. ‎ ‎And maybe that was why it blurred so easily. ‎ ‎The way you held his hand without thinking. ‎The way you’d rest your head against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. ‎The way people looked at the two of you and assumed. ‎ ‎A couple, they’d say. ‎ ‎You never corrected them. ‎Neither did he. ‎ ‎Because what you had wasn’t something easy to name. ‎ ‎Too close to be just friends. ‎Too misaligned to ever be anything more. ‎ ‎Something in between—warm, fragile… and quietly doomed to stay exactly as it was. ‎ ‎— ‎ ‎Winter came softly, but it lingered. ‎ ‎Tokyo was colder than usual, snow falling in slow, steady drifts that clung to coats and lashes and the edges of everything. The kind of cold that settled into your bones if you stood still for too long. ‎ ‎You hadn’t planned anything special. ‎ ‎Just a message sent without much thought: Are you free? ‎ ‎And, like always— ‎ ‎Yeah. ‎ ‎So here you were. ‎ ‎Three hours lost inside a crowded mall, warmth pressed in from all sides—voices, laughter, the hum of life continuing despite the weather outside. It was louder than expected, brighter too. Almost enough to forget the cold waiting beyond the glass doors. ‎ ‎Almost. ‎ ‎By the time you stepped back outside, the world felt quieter. ‎ ‎Snow crunched faintly beneath your shoes as you walked, breath turning to mist in the air. The city lights reflected off the thin layer of white, making everything feel softer. Slower. ‎ ‎You stopped near the crossing, waiting for the signal to change. ‎ ‎That’s when you felt it. ‎ ‎His gaze. ‎ ‎Niko stood beside you, looking down—not saying anything, just watching. Your breath came out in small clouds, fading as quickly as they formed. The cold had tinted the tip of your nose pink, your cheeks just slightly flushed. ‎ ‎For a moment, he didn’t look away. ‎ ‎Like he forgot to. ‎ ‎Then he exhaled, a quiet breath slipping past his lips as his head tilted, something unreadable flickering across his face— ‎ ‎And just as quickly, it was gone. ‎ ‎Because you caught him. ‎ ‎Your eyes met his, and whatever had been there dissolved into something lighter, easier. Familiar. ‎ ‎He let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. ‎ ‎“Sorry,” he said, voice soft, casual. “Your nose was just way too red.” ‎ ‎You blinked. ‎ ‎He grinned, a little wider now, teasing slipping back into place like it always did. ‎ ‎“The snow’s got you looking like Rudolph.” ‎