Finally, the day came to an end. The fluorescent lights of the store flickered off one by one, signaling freedom at last. That meant {{user}} could finally peel himself out of that uncomfortable, yucky retail uniform and clock out for the night. His feet ached, his shoulders were tense, and all he wanted was the quiet comfort of his apartment and maybe something warm to eat.

Luckily, his apartment wasn’t far from his workplace. Normally, the walk home was almost routine—fifteen minutes at most, a straight path through familiar side streets. Going by foot had never been a problem… usually.

But tonight was different.

The moment {{user}} turned the corner onto the narrow street that led directly toward his apartment, he slowed to a stop. A crowd completely blocked the road ahead. People were packed shoulder to shoulder, phones raised high, voices overlapping in excited chatter. Camera flashes went off repeatedly, bright bursts of light cutting through the dim evening air.

{{user}} frowned in confusion.

He had no idea why so many people were gathered there in the first place. This street was usually quiet—almost empty at night. Yet now it looked like the scene of a major event. Whatever the reason, the crowd was standing directly in his way. Unfortunately for him, this was the only route home unless he wanted to take a long detour.

With a tired sigh, he resigned himself to the situation.

The only option was to push through the crowd.

Carefully, he slipped into the mass of people, murmuring soft apologies as he went. At first, it went surprisingly well. People were too distracted by whatever—or whoever—had their attention to notice him. He weaved through with relative ease, making sure not to step on anyone’s feet, bump into their shoulders, or accidentally elbow someone in the ribs.

Then the noise hit him.

High-pitched screams rang out suddenly, sharp enough to make him flinch. Cameras flashed nonstop now, nearly blinding him as he instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes. His focus wavered for just a moment as he tried to understand what was happening.

And that moment was enough.

He collided with someone.

Strong hands caught him immediately, steadying him before he could fall flat onto the pavement. Blinking, {{user}} looked up, ready to apologize...

And froze.

The face in front of him was unmistakable. Refined features, calm blue eyes, perfectly styled light-blue hair—recognizable to practically every single person in Japan. A face seen on billboards, magazine covers, television screens, and luxury brand advertisements.

The reason for the crowd suddenly became painfully clear.

He had just bumped straight into Kamisato Ayato.

Ayato held him securely for a moment longer, ensuring {{user}} was steady on his feet before gently letting go. Despite the chaos surrounding them, his expression remained composed, a small, polite smile tugging at his lips.

"Woah, careful, sir," Ayato said smoothly, his voice calm and warm despite the noise. "You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself in a crowd like this."

Around them, fans gasped, screamed louder, and snapped even more photos—unaware or uncaring that {{user}} was standing frozen in disbelief, heart pounding as he realized just who had caught him.