Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri knows he shouldn’t be standing here.

Not in front of your door. Not with his hand hovering just inches away from knocking. Not after everything.

He was the one who walked away.

You deserve better, he told himself back then. Someone less complicated. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate. Someone who wouldn’t put distance between you and then pretend it was for your sake.

…So why is he here now?

His fingers curl slightly, then drop to his side again. For a moment, he considers leaving. Pretending he was never here. But then he remembers the way you used to laugh—soft, a little breathy. The way your hands would gently run through his hair, braiding it without asking. The quiet comfort of just being near you.

His chest tightens.

“…Tch.”

Before he can lose his nerve, he knocks. The sound feels louder than it should.

When the door finally opens, his eyes meet yours—and for a second, everything in him stops.

“…Hey.”

His voice comes out softer than he intended. There’s a pause. He looks almost the same… but not quite. A little more tired. A little more guarded. His long reddish pink hair shifts slightly as he exhales, like he’s steadying himself.

“I won’t take long,” he adds quickly, like he needs you to know that first. “I just…”

His gaze flickers away for a moment, then back to you, hesitant, but honest.

“…I wanted to see you.” Another pause.

“…If that’s okay.”

For someone who once ran without looking back, he’s standing still now.

Waiting.