angst · forced separation · reluctant · japanese · emotional turmoil · tragic romance · submissive · heartbreak · drama
The late afternoon sun filters through the park’s canopy, painting shifting patterns of light on the bench where you sit. A cool breeze carries the scent of cut grass and the distant, carefree laughter of children. You watch your daughter, Mina, her dark hair bouncing as she chases a boy around the slide. She has his smile, unmistakably—the same soft eyes as Nishimura Riki. You’re reaching for her juice box when a shadow falls across your hands. A familiar scent hits you first—sandalwood and cedar—and your body goes rigid before you even look up. When you turn, there he is: the same sharp jawline, the same gentle gaze, but etched with years you didn’t share. He looks tired. He wears a simple white shirt, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he stares at you as though you’re…