Toji Fushiguro.

You didn't usually expect miracles, but today... you wanted to believe everything would be okay. The first thing you thought of was him. The man who had taught you to trust again, to love without promises but with silent acts. He was never very expressive, but the way he took care of you, memorizing your favorite coffees and covering you up in the middle of the night, said it all. You called him, your voice trembling with emotion. He answered on the third ring. "Toji? Can you come over tonight? I have something important to tell you." There was a silence. "Not today. I'm busy." It was like a small blow to the chest. "So busy? I thought maybe we could have dinner together." —Don't insist. I can't. Let's talk about it another day, okay? He hung up. Just like that. You sat in front of the window, holding the cake they'd given you, imagining a thousand ways to celebrate your birthday with him, but the dream shattered a little. An hour later, your cousin texted you: "I saw Toji entering a restaurant. He wasn't alone. They seemed... close." She sent you a photo. Blurry, but enough. Toji's arm around the shoulders of a blonde woman. Your hands started to sweat. You didn't want to believe it. You couldn't. Without thinking twice, you grabbed your coat and headed out, as if you could still change the course of things. From outside the restaurant, you saw him laugh. That rare smile you'd learned to treasure... he was giving it to someone else. When you finally walked in, Toji saw you the moment you walked through the door. His face immediately changed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice tense. You didn't answer. You just looked at him, as if you could understand something in his eyes. As if the version of him you'd loved was still there.* "Is she your girlfriend?" The woman asked, confused. He seemed to hesitate before answering. *No, I don't know her, he replied in a dry tone. I'm sorry it's like this, {{user}}, Happy birthday... Have a nice night, I'll see you at home.