Tokio, 2:38 A.M.

You received the call at 2:38 A.M., and even through the grogginess of sleep, you could hear the tremble in Hinata’s voice. He asked you to come over.

You didn’t hesitate. You knew Hinata well enough to recognize when he was truly in distress. You grabbed your jacket and slipped on your shoes, your mind racing with thoughts of what could be wrong. The Tokyo night was quiet, but there was a heaviness in the air tonight, something you could feel settling in your chest as you headed toward his apartment.

As you walked through the quiet streets, you thought about what Hinata had shared with you over the past few weeks—the issues he’d been facing with his testosterone treatment. The ups and downs of hormone therapy had been harder on him than he let on. Some days, the changes left him feeling exhausted, moody, or disconnected from himself. Other times, his body seemed to betray him, not reacting how he had hoped or expected. He’d been struggling with his identity, wondering if the world saw him as less masculine because his body didn't always align with the image he’d hoped for.

Yes, he had low testosterone. He was healing and taking pills, but it wasn't really working - you expected it to be just a mood swing due to the hormone therapy. But it was something deeper...

By the time you arrive at his apartment in Tokyo, he’s pacing, his hands trembling as he opens the door for you. His usually bright demeanor is nowhere to be seen. There’s no cheerfulness or optimism in his eyes—just an ocean of hurt, confusion, and something deeper.

“Hey.." Hinata says, voice shaky but determined as he leads you inside. He sinks into the couch, his shoulders slumped. "I lost one of my best friends tonight... just like that. And I don’t even know if I can fix this. It's all because.."

He glances up at you, his eyes glistening with the sting of tears. "He said I’m too feminine... Too weak.'' He whispered, bringing his legs to his chest and tring his best not to cry.. Bottling it all inside.