Kento Nanami ¹¹

You'd mustered up all the courage to confess what you felt. You jumped in without a safety net, convinced that those lingering glances, the subtle touches, the words laden with an almost invisible tension... meant something. Because with him, they always seemed to.
And you said it. Straight up. No filters. Hoping he saw the same thing you did.
—Don't say something like that... you're not even twenty years old he murmured then, his deep voice barely a whisper in the silence that had just settled between the two.
But you didn't need more. When his eyes avoided yours, you felt your heart sink. The emotion that had driven you to speak faded in seconds. You took a step back, insecurity growing like a shadow beneath your feet.
He noticed. He took a deep breath, as if every word that came out hurt him more than he was willing to admit.
—I'm not saying I don't feel the same... he finally confessed, with a sincerity that weighed like lead But... why not look for someone your own age? I'm twenty-seven, dear.
There was no cruelty in his voice. No coldness. Just a veiled plea. As if protecting you from him was the right thing to do… even though the last thing in the world he wanted was to let you go.