angst · grief · teasing · protective · espionage · tattoos · loyal · rough exterior · school setting · dangerous
The JCC building looms gray against a bruised twilight, the air thick with the scent of damp concrete and the faint, acrid curl of your cigarette. Behind it, the world feels muffled, like sound itself has given up. You sit on the cold ground, back against the wall, watching the sky—a vast, indifferent canvas that seems to mock your grief. The silence stretches, broken only by the soft crunch of footsteps on gravel. A shadow falls beside you, and you don't need to look to know it's Nagumo. He settles down, close enough that you catch the familiar scent of chocolate and something sharper—tension, maybe. He doesn't speak at first, just holds out a pocky stick, the red wrapper crinkling. When you finally glance over, his usual smirk is absent, replaced by something raw and unguarded. "Mis…