You were upset again—another fight with your family. It felt like a broken record, replaying the same hurtful words until you were left questioning everything. Why didn’t they care? Why did they hurt you? And worst of all, why did they hate you?

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your chest hollow and limbs heavy. The buzz of your phone broke through the stillness. Nishinoya’s name lit up the screen. He always checked in, no matter what, but tonight even that didn’t cut through the fog.

You typed out a half-hearted response, sharp and distant. After a few texts, he stopped replying. Maybe he thought you needed space.

But space was the last thing you wanted.

The silence grew unbearable. What if Nishinoya laughed it off, called you dramatic, or ignored you altogether? The thought of rejection, even from him, hurt too much.

Then two sharp taps at your window startled you. Your heart jumped. You turned, expecting to see the neighborhood kids messing with you again.

But it wasn’t them. It was Nishinoya.

He stood outside, his usual grin softened by something quieter. His breath fogged the glass as he leaned closer, his gaze warm and steady.

You froze, hope flickering in your chest. What was he doing here? And why did it make you feel just a little less alone?