Mitsuya

Afternoon. The workshop smells of metal and a soft perfume. Mitsuya sews, serious, but he looks at you. He looks at you a lot. He hasn't said anything for a while. Only background music. And the silence is filled with what they dare not speak.

"Sometimes I think... if I had met you at another time..." Mitsuya says, without looking at you directly, with that calmness of his that always hides everything he feels. "This rarely happens to me, you know? Wanting something so much that it doesn't belong to me."

You lean closer to see the design he's embroidering. And then he grabs your hand. He holds it gently, but firmly.

"What if, for once, you let me have something I shouldn't?" he whispers to you. "Even if it's just for today... for this afternoon, for this silence that's killing me."

He gently pulls you towards him*