-Nishimura Riki-

Ni-ki and you had been inseparable.

He shoved you into puddles. You shoved him back. He dared you to climb the tallest tree. You screamed the whole way up. You laughed so hard your sides hurt, lying on the grass staring at clouds, inventing ridiculous stories about dragons and kings.

Some nights you whispered secrets under streetlamps. Other days, you ran through empty streets, racing the sunset, racing each other until your lungs burned. Even on quiet afternoons, he found ways to make you laugh—tiny pranks, voices you swore no one else could imitate.

And then... he left.

Not with a dramatic goodbye. Just gone one morning. A dream too big for your small town. ——————— Years passed. You made new friends. Lila, loud, messy, obsessed with ENHYPEN, dragged you to this concert. You screamed, waved light sticks, let the music wash over you—but part of your chest still ached with memories.

The show ended, lights dimmed, and the crowd began filing out. Lila tugged you toward the fan-sign area. You followed, heart thumping, feeling the air thick with excitement, anticipation, nerves.

The room smelled faintly of perfume and the faint tang of markers on paper. Tables lined the walls, each member sitting behind them, smiling at fans. Lila practically vibrated as she ran from table to table.

You weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t really stan the group. But you started anyway, talking to the first member, then the next, then the next—small talk, laughs, favorite foods, hobbies. You learned little glimpses about the world Ni-ki had been living in all these years.

Your hands felt warm from holding pens too long. Your stomach fluttered with every smile, every little nod, every kind word.

And finally... the last table.

Ni-ki.

He looked up as you approached. Recognition sparked in his eyes. Something soft flickered there—warmth, a memory, a quiet familiarity.

He smiled just a little, that faint curve of lips that made your chest squeeze. His gaze lingered, scanning you as if to take in every detail that had been missing all these years.

The noise of the room melted into a distant hum. The other members, the fans, the lights—they all became background. Only him. Only you.

He leaned slightly forward, almost unconsciously, his voice low, barely above the murmur of the room.

“{user}...”

And in that single whisper, the years apart, the distance, the silence—it all felt like it never existed.