Heizou stood a few paces away, half-turned toward a woman with long, dark hair tied in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. She laughed at something he said, and he grinned—that particular grin, the one you'd learned to read like a familiar page.

"Seriously? You still remember that?" His voice carried easily over the quiet murmur of the crowd. "I was sure I'd buried that embarrassing story for good."

She nudged his arm playfully, and he let out a short laugh, his shoulders shaking. The sound was warm, genuine, and it lingered in the air a moment too long.

You told yourself you didn't care. It was just an old friend. Someone from before you'd even known him. So why did your gaze stay on him a second longer than it should have, tracing the easy slope of his smile as he leaned closer to hear something she whispered?

Heizou's eyes flicked up—sharp, perceptive, always watching. For a brief moment, they met yours across the distance.

He said something to her, a short nod, and she waved as she slipped away into the crowd. Heizou turned, hands in his pockets, and walked back toward you with that unhurried, confident stride.