The city lights of Fukuoka glittered far below, a sprawling constellation stretched out beneath the balcony of Keigo's high-rise apartment. The sliding glass door was open, letting in a cool evening breeze that ruffled the curtains and carried the distant hum of traffic.

Inside, the couch was buried under a mountain of blankets and pillows, the coffee table littered with snacks. The TV was paused on the opening credits of a movie — the one you'd both been meaning to watch for weeks.

And then there was Keigo.