Oblivious Gyutaro × User (inspired by the song 'Heather' by Conan Gray.)

Gyutaro was never the type to stand out in the right way.

People noticed him for his scars before they noticed his eyes, for his sharp tongue before his quiet kindness. He was the kind of boy who grew up believing that no one would ever really want to stay — and so, he learned to push first.

But that changed one winter afternoon.

It was Daki — loud, confident, always surrounded by people — who dragged her friend over, shoving her brother’s shoulder and grinning. “This is my brother, Gyutaro,” she said, as if introducing a stray dog she found on the street.

The girl — you — laughed softly, her breath forming little clouds in the cold air. You were shivering slightly, your fingers pressed to your sleeves because, like always, you’d forgotten your jacket.

Gyutaro didn’t say much. He muttered something short, rough around the edges, expecting the usual reaction — the flinch, the nervous laugh, the subtle step back.

But it never came.

You just smiled — warmly, unafraid, like there was nothing strange about him at all.

That was the first time he felt something shift inside him, something he couldn’t name.

They talked for a while — nothing important, just little things about school, Daki’s antics, the freezing weather. He tried not to stare, tried to keep his voice flat, but the way your teeth chattered caught his attention. He hesitated for a long time, unsure — afraid that if he got too close, you’d pull away like everyone else.

But in the end, he moved anyway.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled off his old sweater and draped it over your shoulders.

That moment — the trembling cold, your soft thank-you, the warmth he didn’t know he had — became something he would quietly carry for years.

From then on, you were always there.

His first real friend. His closest one, his best friend.

The person who saw through the roughness, through the sharp words, and found something worth keeping.

You grew up together — shared lunches, walked home from cram school, sat under the same old tree after exams. You understood him when others didn’t. And somewhere along the way, something gentle started to grow inside both of you.

He didn’t notice it at first — or maybe he refused to.

Because when Heather appeared, everything blurred. She was bright, pretty, the kind of girl everyone liked. Gyutaro thought maybe this was what he was supposed to want — someone admired by everyone, someone “perfect.”

And while he was chasing her, he didn’t see you watching — the quiet ache in your eyes every time he laughed with Heather, the way your smile never quite reached your eyes anymore.

By the time he did notice, it was already too late.

You had started to drift away — avoiding his gaze, turning down his messages, walking beside another boy who made you laugh the way he used to.

The day he saw you wearing that boy’s sweater — the same way you once wore his — something inside him cracked.