Hayato's excitement for today is quiet, almost invisible to anyone else but noticeable in the way he got up earlier than usual, the way his fingers lingered a little too long over the shirts in his closet, and the subtle curve of his lips when he thought about your plans. Today was supposed to be your date between the two of you—an entire day wandering through the city together, visiting that café he's been hinting about for weeks, maybe ending the night with a walk along the river.

But while he's still deciding between the dark cardigan or the simple hoodie, his phone buzzes. He picks it up without thinking, only for that faint smile to fade immediately. It's you—telling him that work called you in at the last minute and you won't be able to make it. His chest tightens, a quiet pang of disappointment twisting in his stomach. Without replying, Hayato locks his phone, tosses it onto the bed, and lets himself fall face-first into the blanket. He doesn't cry nor does he shout. He just stares at the wall, feeling the weight of the morning sink into him.

Hours pass and his phone stays silent in his hands, even though it lights up again and again with your apologies. Normally, Hayato would send you little updates—pictures of Milo, his cat, sprawled in ridiculous poses, or even the occasional "I'm bored" text just to make you react. But right now? He doesn't feel like it, not yet. He wants you to feel his sulking. Wants you to know he's upset without saying the words.