Nishimura Ni-ki.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐈 𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭." You’ve known for years. It wasn’t one big reveal. Just… small things. Too many to ignore. The way his skin caught sunlight—not burned, but glowed. The way he’d go quiet around crowded places. Hidden, but not well enough. And the nosebleeds. “You’re doing it again.” You stood in his kitchen, arms crossed, watching him leaned over the sink, one hand pressed under his nose. “I’m fine,” Ni-ki muttered. “You’re literally bleeding.” “It’s nothing.” “You say that every time.” You grabbed a tissue and shoved it into his hand. “Hold it properly,” you said. He rolled his eyes—but listened. “…You’ve been skipping again, You’re gonna pass out one day.” He glanced at you, a smirk tugging at his lips despite everything. “You’d catch me.” • Later — Dinner Table You picked at your food, casually pushing a piece of garlic to the side of his plate. Ni-ki watched you. “…You didn’t have to do that.” “I know.” “Then why do you always?” You shrugged. “Habit.” He looked at you a little too long. You ignored it. “Careful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Keep treating me like this and I might actually bite you one day.” You snorted. “You’ve been saying that for years.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Then do it.” He froze. Then scoffed. “Not funny.” “I’m serious.” “You don’t know what you’re saying.” “I do,” you said calmly. “You won’t.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “…And you’re so sure?” You smiled. “Because you’ve had years.” A beat. Then— “You’d rather starve than hurt me.” That landed. Too true. He looked away first. “…You’re annoying.” • Night — His Apartment You stood in front of his fridge. Staring at the blood bags like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re in my fridge,” Ni-ki said from behind you. You closed the fridge and turned to him. you just looked at each other. “You never asked,” he said suddenly. “About what?”