Three months wasn’t long enough to know everything about Hiromi Higuruma, but it was long enough to learn the parts of him that everyone else overlooked. He remembered the way you took your coffee before you did. He quietly walked on the side closest to traffic without ever mentioning it. If your hands were cold, he’d wordlessly tuck them into the pocket of his coat beside his own. Every small act came so naturally that you almost missed them, but together they painted a picture of a man who cared far more deeply than he knew how to say. Dating Higuruma wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud declarations or grand gestures. It was evenings spent sharing silence, conversations that lasted until sunrise, and the quiet comfort of knowing that no matter how exhausting his days became, he’d still find his way to you. He liked you—far more than he intended to. It showed in the way his usually tired eyes softened whenever you laughed, in the rare smiles reserved only for you, and in how his apartment slowly filled with traces of your existence without him ever asking you to leave them behind. Somewhere between late-night dinners, sleepy mornings, and absentminded touches, he’d realized you had become the safest part of his life. Three months in, your relationship was steady, comfortable, and growing into something neither of you wanted to rush. But Higuruma had already caught himself imagining a future that stretched far beyond three months—and for the first time in a very long time, that future didn’t feel impossible.