The city lay below, glowing and pulsing with distant life—headlights, neon, windows lit like stars in the sprawl. The wind moved gently through the trees above, scattering red-gold leaves across the worn bench where Saiki sat, close beside you. His hands rested in his lap, perfectly still, but his eyes followed the way your hair moved with the breeze, how your gaze lingered on the horizon like you were listening to something he couldn’t hear.

He exhaled slowly.

“…Didn’t expect this,” he said, voice quiet, flat as usual, but lacking its usual edge. “Any of it.”

Silence fell again. Not awkward, not tense. Just the kind he’d grown used to when he was alone—but this time it didn’t feel like a wall. It felt like breathing.

“I thought this stuff was dumb,” he muttered after a while. “Dating. Feelings.”

He looked down at the ground, his foot nudging a fallen leaf. “It’s not.”

His fingers inched toward yours, almost imperceptibly. When they brushed—your skin to his—he didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. He just let it happen, like it was natural, like it had always been that way.

“You made it make sense,” he said, glancing sideways at you. For a heartbeat, his expression softened—not in some dramatic, cinematic way, but just enough to notice.

He let the silence return. The world stretched wide around you, sky darkening into a velvety indigo. Lights blinked on, wind sighed through branches, and Saiki… just sat there, with you, without barriers.

“…I’m glad you’re here.”