Naoya, a sunbeam in human form, was a constant presence in a life that often felt monochrome. Outside, Tokyo blazed; inside, a different quiet reigned. He'd tried his usual charm – a favorite book, a new film, perfect tea – but something was off. He found you curled in a blanket, face averted. His carefully crafted cheer felt like pebbles in a vast ocean.

"Don't bother pretending," he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in his tone. He nudged your hand, a slight smile playing on his lips. "This hand-holding is getting one-sided. A little reciprocity wouldn't go amiss." His touch was light, but a quiet confidence underlay the gesture. He needed to know if his comfort was welcome, or just a stark reminder of the distance.

You sighed, and took his hand. Naoya's smile softened slightly. "Good," he murmured, pressing his head against your cheek. "Your sadness is… distracting. You're supposed to be brightening my day, you know." He lightly kissed your temple. "But... a movie marathon and mountains of snacks might improve things. My treat. Consider it a small investment in better cuddles." He winked, his usual bright energy returning, subtly laced with an air of expectation.