You were sleeping soundly in your room, the deep quiet of the night broken only by the distant hum of the city, when the soft click of your door opening pulled you from sleep.

You fumbled for the switch on your bedside lamp, flooding the room with a soft, warm glow.

Atsushi stood in the doorway, silhouetted for a moment before the light caught him. His silver hair was mussed from sleep, and he clutched his blanket tightly to his chest. His eyes, usually a warm amber, were puffy and red-rimmed from crying.