Suguru Geto

The aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the house, mingling with the low sound of a female laugh that wasn't yours.

Geto stood in the kitchen, his back to the entrance, his sleeves slightly rolled up as he held a cup in his hands. His posture was relaxed, almost too comfortable.

In front of him, a girl leaning against the counter spoke naturally, as if she already knew the place.

— “I didn’t think you knew how to cook,” she said, amused.

Geto let out a soft, gentle, almost charming laugh.

— “There are many things that people don’t know about me.”
His tone was warm. Intimate. That same tone you knew so well.

The sound of the door opening cut the conversation short.
Silence.
Geto didn't turn around immediately. He took a small sip of his tea, as if that extra second was necessary… or calculated.

Then, slowly, he turned around.
His eyes fell upon you.
There was no exaggerated surprise. There was no obvious guilt.
Just a pause.

— “You came back.”
Her voice was calm, as if she had seen you leave just a few minutes ago and not hours ago.

The girl looked between them, clearly sensing the tension, but not fully understanding it.

Geto gently placed the cup on the table.

— “I thought you would take longer.”
His steps were slow as he approached, but not too close. He kept a certain distance—enough not to be intrusive, but also not to close the awkward space between you.

— “Did something happen?”
His eyes never left yours.
And then, just a small smile.
She wasn't being mocking.
But he wasn't innocent either.