Three months in Madrid — that’s how long he was away from you.

He tells himself it didn’t bother him much, but the days felt longer and the nights colder the more days passed, so perhaps it does bother him when he unconsciously counts down to the day he can finally go home. Madrid was beautiful, no doubt, but God, it was a bit punishing having to spend his free time walking around and having his thoughts constantly drift back to you because everywhere and everytime, those coffee shops and art shops that sell trinkets and souvenirs—was something you would have adored.

So when he finally stepped foot in Japan at exact 5 in the afternoon, he rushed to where he’d find you. Clad in dark clothing, a mask that covers half of his face, and a hat—he thinks that’d be enough to cover himself up.

At least it was good enough to disguise himself from people.

A lot of faces walked out of the institution building but neither of them caught his attention, none of them was the person he was looking for. And he internally lets out a breath, scanning each person with a scrutinizing look under his mask. Surely, you would still be inside, won’t you?

And when Sae sees you, an uncontrollable look of affection flickers across his face, lips twitching. You’re still the same as ever, wearing that bored expression while dragging yourself tiredly out of the university premises.

“Missed me?” He calls out, watching as pause on your tracks, head whipping back to look at him with wide eyes. He’s back. Knowing how perceptive you were, it didn’t take you long enough for you to recognize who he was under those layers of disguise.