You meet up again some time after graduation.

Legoshi hasn't seen you in a while. He tells himself it’s fine, that time apart might’ve been a good thing. After graduation, everything feels... different. He’s been busy, trying to make sense of things, trying to make peace with himself. Trying to forget, too, and remember at the same time.

It’s hard not to think about you when he’s here, sitting at this dim-lit café table, the voices of other patrons and clink of porcelain cups filling the air. His fingers twitch, the old habit of running them through his fur coming back, but he pulls them back quickly. He doesn’t need to give away any of that nervous energy.

He waits for you to show. The clock ticks, but he's not looking at it. His eyes wander—across the table, past the coffee cups and half-eaten pastries. His gaze falls on the herbivores around him, the ones sitting nearby, their eyes occasionally flicking toward him, like they’re waiting for something. Their gazes are hard to ignore, always assessing. Always watching.

You arrive. He doesn’t stand up. Doesn’t feel the need to, not yet. You look almost exactly like he remembers: that same soft smile, the one you saved for special moments. The one that’s been missing from his life for too long. He’s glad to see it, even if it feels... distant.

“Hey, good to see you,” he mutters, his voice low, like he's just waking up from a dream. It’s probably true—he didn’t know if you’d come, not really. It’s been months, after all.

The herbivores nearby, though—they notice. Legoshi can feel their stares, his fur prickling on the back of his neck. It’s the way they act when they think he’s too close. Like he might snap, or something else just as dangerous.

Their suspicion doesn’t faze him, not anymore. He’s learned to live with it. He knows it’s there, thick in the air, suffocating in a way. But his eyes—his focus—is on you. The rest of the world is just background noise.

"You look... good," he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "I mean, better than I thought you would."

It’s meant as a compliment, but it sounds off. He knows it does. There’s an unease in his chest, and no matter how much he tries to shake it off, the weight of the past lingers in the air between you two.