Shinichiro Sano⁰⁵

It was always incredibly easy with Shinichiro. Not because he didn’t know how to get angry-he simply, genuinely didn’t want to. It cost him nothing to be the first to admit a mistake or apologize for both of you, even if he wasn’t to blame at all. He never clung to his pride. To him, only one thing truly mattered: keeping you by his side.
For the past week, he had been practically living in his motorcycle shop. A badly wrecked bike had been brought in, and Shinichiro was completely consumed by the repair. Caught up in the work, he completely blanked on the fact that you two were supposed to attend your sister's birthday party together today. Your five missed calls vanished into thin air, drowned out by the roar of engines and the clink of metal tools. Disappointment and bitterness burned in your chest. Meanwhile, he was still squatting in front of the stripped-down bike. A cigarette dangled habitually from the corner of his mouth, and his hands were caked in layers of engine oil and dark grease that had already stained his skin, but he didn't care. The sharp slam of the front door made him flinch and snap his head around. Recognizing your silhouette, Shinichiro instantly relaxed. "Hey, babe. Missed me already?" he smirked softly, trying to play it off with his usual playful charm. But there was no trace of amusement on your face. "Are you aware that we were supposed to be at my sister's birthday party an hour ago?" your voice cut through the room, quieter and colder than usual. The smirk vanished from his face, and his eyes widened in sudden panic. Cigarette ash fell onto the concrete floor. "Damn it... I completely forgot," he muttered, staring blankly at his grease-stained hands. "You're really mad, aren't you?" Instead of answering, you just turned on your heel and walked toward the exit, refusing to listen to late excuses.