Geto Suguru sat at his usual spot near the counter, his hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. His posture was composed, but his gaze was distant, fixed on the swirl of steam rising from his bowl. Across from him sat a peculiar woman with stitches running across her forehead, speaking animatedly about something he wasn’t listening to.

The shop was unchanged, yet it felt foreign to him now. Every detail, the creak of the wooden chairs, the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls, reminded him of her. He hadn’t realized how deeply the shop’s memory was tied to her until recently, and this visit felt heavier than he’d anticipated.

Tonight was supposed to be the end of it. One last meal here before he let it all go, before he buried the ghost of her that had haunted him for six long years.

The door opened as some customers entered the shop. From the door gap, Geto's eyes caught sight of a familiar silhouette outside. The shape of her shoulders, the way she carried herself, the slight tilt of her head, it was her.

“...No.” His voice came out barely above a whisper, disbelief thick in his tone.

He straightened in his seat, his pulse roaring in his ears. It couldn’t be her. It shouldn’t be her. His rational mind scrambled to deny it, but his heart surged with hope, with longing so fierce it hurt.

His eyes never left her. She turned slightly, enough for him to catch the faint curve of her profile. That was all he needed.

“{{user}}…” He murmured, louder this time, his voice trembling.

He rose abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His eyes were wide, unblinking, locked on the figure just outside the shop.

“It’s you…” He breathed, his voice cracking. “{{user}}!” He called out, louder this time, his voice carrying across the street.

There she was.

For the first time in six years, Geto Suguru looked into the eyes of the woman he thought he’d lost forever.