Finally, toward morning, I fell asleep.
A light, restless sleep — but enough to drag me into unconsciousness for a few hours.
I slept until late afternoon, exhausted, pulled into a dreamless void.
When I woke up, the light was dim. It was raining.
Raindrops bounced against the windows like gentle fingers knocking without rest.
Then I heard a knock.
Three soft taps.
The others had come to bring me dinner. Panda, Yuta, Maki. And Toge.
They stepped in quietly, speaking in hushed voices, as if trying to respect the silence broken only by the falling rain.
Panda set down a steaming bowl on the bedside table, Yuta gave me a wink, and Maki sat beside the bed.
I stood at the window. Watching the rain fall.
It looked like tears. Endless, countless tears.
Even the sky seemed sad.
For me. For Toge.
For what we had been and what now remained — suspended, fragile.
In the glass reflection, I saw Toge.
Standing still.
His eyes fixed on me.
Then he approached.
Without a word, he placed a hand gently on my shoulder.
A light gesture — barely there — yet it passed through me like a ripple.
I turned.
I looked at him.
But he couldn't meet my eyes.
He lowered his gaze, slowly, as if just standing there made him guilty.
Then, with a quick but silent motion, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to me.
A letter.
His unmistakable handwriting.
"Read it after we've gone," it wrote on the phone.
I looked at him.
Nodded softly.
He stepped back halfway.
Then walked out, returning to his room.
And the rain kept falling.
As if it knew everything.
***
I was alone again.
The room had fallen back into silence.
Only the rain, like trembling fingers, kept tapping softly against the windows.
The letter in my hands felt heavier than it should.
My fingers were cold, yet sweating.
My hands trembled slightly, as if they already knew what I was about to read.
I sat on the bed, knees pulled close, my back hunched.
I traced the edge of the envelope with my fingers, then opened it slowly.
The sheet inside was thin, folded with care.
His unmistakable handwriting — slightly slanted, firm and trembling all at once.
"Rebecca,
I don't know how to speak. You know that. But I can write. And right now, writing to you is the only way I have to say everything I'm carrying inside.
That day... the day I left you... it was the hardest of my life. I wanted to hold you, I wanted to stay. But every time you got close, I felt afraid. Afraid that something might take you away. Curses don't care who they touch — but they always reach for the ones you love. And I… I love you.
Yes. I love you.
I've loved you since the first time I heard your voice say my name. Since Kyoto, that night, when we climbed to the shrine together. Do you remember?
The air was warm, it smelled of pines and ancient rain. You laughed softly. And then… when our lips searched for each other, when our bodies came together, I realized it wasn't just love.
It was home.
If I close my eyes, I can still feel your skin under my fingers. Your breath in mine. I would have done it a thousand more times — not because it was beautiful, but because it made me feel alive. Human. Yours.
But I was afraid. That's part of my curse too: the silence that protects, but isolates. The silence that keeps you safe, but distant.
Now I watch you from afar, and it feels like looking at a dream I can't touch. I see you laugh with the others, and it hurts in a way I can't explain. Because I know what it means to truly make you laugh. I know how your eyes crease when you're happy. And knowing I'm no longer the one making that happen... it kills me.
I'm not writing to ask you to come back. I'm not that selfish.
I'm writing only to tell you that, every night before I fall asleep, my last thought is you. That I think of you when it rains. That I dream of you when I tremble.
And even in silence… I still love you.Silently, like all things that are true.
— Toge"
When I finished reading, the paper slipped from my hands.
They were shaking.
I brought my fingers to my lips, then to my eyes — but it was useless.
The tears came anyway, warm and quiet, like the drops of rain that had been tapping at my window for hours.
I cried.
A lot.
Not out of weakness, but because those words had split me open.
Because I still wanted him.
I still wanted him so badly.
I would have made love to him again a hundred times over, if only he had let me stay by his side.
And even now, reading that letter full of love, memory, and sorrow, I felt that something had broken.
It wasn't just the distance.
It was the choice.
He had chosen to leave.
To leave me alone.
I couldn't understand.
I just couldn't.
To me, when two people love each other, they overcome anything.
They fight together.
Endure together.
They don't walk away.
So even with the fever on my skin, my heart tired, my eyes blurred from crying,I picked up the letter, folded it carefully, and placed it in the drawer beside my bed.
Then I lay down, eyes still damp, and let myself drift into sleep.
I didn't reply to the letter.
Not yet.
***
The next morning, warm sunlight filtered gently through the curtains in my room, but I had no intention of getting up. The fever was gone, my body had regained strength, but my head... my heart... they were still curled up on the floor.
That's when I heard a knock. Sharp. Determined. It was Maki.
"Open up. I'm not taking 'no' today."
I sighed and dragged myself to the door. The moment I opened it, she walked in like a hurricane.
"Enough, Rebecca. Enough with this silent suffering thing. It's never gotten you anywhere. You've cried enough, and he knows that. But now it's your turn. You get up. You get yourself together. And you go back to being the girl you were before everything fell apart. No—better."
She looked at me with those fierce eyes, but they were filled with affection. Honest anger. Real worry.
And in that moment, I understood: she was right. I was tired of wallowing. He had made that damned decision—I had to accept it. Painfully, yes. But still, I had to.
I nodded. Slowly, but firmly. I chose to stand up again. To take my life back, even if it would be hard. At least I'd try.
I got up. Went to the bathroom. The cold water woke me up completely. My face, red from days of fever and tears, looked more alive now, more defined.
I picked black jeans, tight-fitting, hugging my legs like they were sewn on. My curves discreet but present. A light, short-sleeved black shirt with flared cuffs and a subtle neckline. Nothing vulgar. Just… woman.
I straightened my long, smooth hair until it looked like glass. The makeup was stronger than usual: sharp eyeliner, a hint of dark eyeshadow, lightly tinted lips. The mirror said I was still here. But my eyes would say when—and how—I was coming back.
When I stepped into the classroom, it was as if the air itself changed density.
Yuta turned first. Then Panda, who opened his mouth but said nothing. Maki smiled—proud, fierce.
And then there was him.
Toge.
Two rows back, sitting beside Panda. I saw him like the rest of the room had disappeared. His eyes lifted to meet mine slowly, and in that instant... everything stopped.
He looked at me like he was seeing a goddess walking the earth. His pupils dilated just a bit, and for a second, he held his breath. His chest rose gently, like that one glance had cost him all the air in the world.
I smiled. Calmly. Composed. I greeted everyone with the brightest voice I could find.
"Good morning!"
My voice was steady. Light. True.
I sat beside Maki and Yuta. I could feel his gaze still on me. It didn't leave. It was like a caress that didn't dare touch—but didn't want to stop trying.
While Gojo sensei walked in and started the lesson, I stole a few glances. Toge was still. But his eyes didn't waver. They were fixed, steady. Every movement I made felt watched—memorized, like a sacred ritual.
It was the look of someone who knew what he'd lost. And for the first time… feared they might not get it back.
Gojo-sensei was in an unusually good mood that day. He entered the room with his usual dramatic stride, glasses low on his nose, a giant mug of coffee in hand, and a grin that promised anything but a quiet lesson.
He glanced toward me and smiled.
"Well, well, well. Looks like our feverish heroine is back. Rebecca, you're my favorite victim today."
"He tells everyone these words before an interrogation," Yuta whispered in my ear.
Everyone laughed. Me too. But inside, I felt something shift—something proud, determined. I wanted to prove I wasn't just back—I was better.
"So tell me…" Gojo sensei perched dramatically on a desk, one leg dangling, glasses still on the tip of his nose. "If a manipulative-type innate technique user goes up against a semi-special grade curse, what's the most efficient way to contain it?"
I raised an eyebrow, paused a second. Then smiled.
"Depends on the nature of the curse. But generally, creating a limited psychic control field and binding it with a targeted energy channeling formula could reduce its power by 60%."
Gojo clapped, mockingly impressed.
"Bravo. All hail you. But let's see if you can answer this one: if you had to choose between an angry Yuta and an A-class curse… what would you pick?"
Laughter.
"The curse. At least it doesn't carry a katana."
Yuta burst out laughing and pretended to hit me with his notebook. Gojo nodded.
"Fair. Katanas only speak when it's already too late."
Class after class, question after question, I felt more alive. Each sharp answer, each playful glance, each shared laugh—it was like piecing myself back together, one shard at a time. It wouldn't happen overnight, I knew. But I was trying. I was breathing again.
And Toge kept watching me. Always.
When the lesson ended, Maki tugged me up by the arm.
"Come on. I told you—no's not an option. Cafeteria."
We all headed out together. Sunlight filtered through the corridor windows, the air thick with the scent of food and soft conversation. In the cafeteria, we took our usual seats: me beside Maki, Yuta across from us, Panda a few chairs down.
Then it happened.
Toge.
Without a word, he walked over with his tray. He circled the table.
And sat beside me. Beside me.
Maki froze mid-bite, her eyes slightly wide. I turned to glance at him, then at her—as if seeking backup. She simply bit harder into her sandwich.
Toge pulled out his phone and started typing. He handed it to me.
"How are you? The fever's gone, right?"
I nodded and smiled softly.
He typed again.
"You were glowing today. Because you were laughing. When you laugh, your eyes light up. You're beautiful."
"Thank you," I said, polite and simple.
I paused for a moment. A quick shiver, like a drop of water running down my spine.
"Panda! Pass the salt!" I said quickly, trying to shift the mood.
"Why? Are you going to cook now? Guys, take cover!" Panda joked.
Yuta laughed, Maki tried to keep a straight face—and failed miserably.
The conversation warmed up instantly. Panda recounted a mission where he got stuck in an elevator with two stray cats that wouldn't stop meowing. Yuta teased him like an older brother.
"Why do animals always follow you? Do they think you're a theme park?"
"Maybe because unlike you, I'm not scary!" Panda shot back.
I laughed—truly laughed. Again. But I still felt his eyes on me. Toge's. They weren't heavy. Just… present. Warm. Like he was saying: I'm here. I'm not running anymore.
He typed again.
"I miss you. But I know that's not enough."
I didn't reply. But something inside me shifted.
We kept talking, laughing, teasing. It felt like a kind of normal we'd never had before. A truce. A pause between the pain and whatever might come next.
And in that pause, he and I… sat side by side. In silence. But close.
***
Later, the plan was simple: an afternoon of training in the main courtyard. But the moment I stood up, my body reminded me it wasn't fully recovered. A slight dizziness, weak legs…
So I mustered up some courage and approached Gojo-sensei.
"Sensei, would it be alright if I skip today's training? I'm not back to 100% yet."
Gojo eyed me over his glasses, then smiled.
"Hmm… approved. But only if you sit next to me and keep me company while I watch them suffer."
"Generous offer, sensei."
I sat beside him on the wooden bleachers overlooking the field. The sky was clear, the sun warm. The others began their warmups, and the scene felt like a fleeting moment of peace in a messy world.
Gojo sensei, of course, didn't waste time lighting up the mood.
"Maki! Is that a stretch or are you summoning a D-class curse?"
"I hate you so much!" she shouted, throwing a bottle in our direction.
Panda was trying a new attack combo. Gojo chuckled.
"He's dancing a samba with a rhinoceros!"
I burst out laughing. Loudly. Like I hadn't in days. Every joke chipped away at the wall I'd built around myself. I was thawing—finally.
Then, in a quiet moment, Gojo sensei's gaze turned serious. He took off his glasses and looked me dead-on.
"Can I ask you something personal?" he said, voice softer.
I nodded.
"Between you and Toge… there's something smoldering. Not a flame anymore—just smoke. I see it. I won't pry. But… you're both burning slowly. And neither of you is trying to put it out."
His words left me silent. It wasn't judgment. Just… truth. Observed gently by someone who saw more than he let on.
I took a deep breath and turned to him.
"Sensei… I'm sorry, but I don't feel like talking about it. It's been painful. I hope you understand. But what do you say… we go to the movies tonight? Any film. I just want to laugh again. To breathe. And I'd like to do it… with all of you."
Gojo straightened up, clearly pleased.
"Finally, someone who appreciates my cinematic taste! Of course I'm coming. But I'm driving."
"Why?"
"Because there's no such thing as movie night without dramatically eating chips while driving into the sunset." he said with the most serious tone.
I tilted my head, puzzled. He did the same.
We both burst into laughter.
***
That evening, we went to the movies. A horror film—naturally chosen by Gojo. He found them hilarious. I didn't. They made me anxious, uneasy. But I said yes anyway. I needed to live, not hide.
Maki showed up holding Yuta's hand, effortlessly stylish: wide-leg jeans, chunky black boots, tight olive shirt under an oversized jacket. Her hair in a high braid, rebel strands framing her face. She looked beautiful—in her own fierce way.
I wore something that felt like me, nothing over the top. High-waisted black flare pants, a soft cream blouse just slightly open at the neckline. Hair down, makeup light but there. A soft red lip. Just a touch of mystery.
Toge and Gojo were waiting outside the building.
Toge wore ripped jeans that clung to his muscular legs, white sneakers, a petrol-blue shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, and a thin scarf covering his curse mark. His hair was tousled, wild, perfect without trying. When he saw me, his eyes held a look somewhere between love and hunger.
He was beautiful—in that way only people who don't know they are can be.
Gojo sensei… was Gojo sensei. Loose black pants, oversized purple hoodie with a sarcastic print, and his trademark white sneakers. Sunglasses, of course. Though his piercing blue eyes were visible underneath—and dangerous.
Inside the theater, I sat with Maki at the center. The lights were dim, soft chatter around. Toge stayed a few rows back, talking to Panda, but his eyes never left me. They followed me like a melancholy song that lingers even after the music fades.
Gojo had disappeared to get popcorn. He insisted on the "family size."
"So we can fight over the last piece," he said.
Soon after, Toge came over. Said nothing. Sat beside me.
Maki looked at me for a second, lips curled in a half-smile. I said nothing. But my heart leapt like it had thrown itself into the air.
He typed something on his phone.
"I know you don't like horror… but you came anyway."
I looked at him. Smiled.
"It's okay, as long as I'm with good company."
He typed again.
"You're stunning tonight."
I turned to him and whispered, barely audible.
"So are you. Really."
The film began. Lights dimmed completely. Gojo reappeared with two enormous tubs of popcorn.
"Make way for the culinary experience. Rebecca, here. Maki, I know you—this is yours."
He handed them out dramatically, then sat behind me. Now and then, he whispered comments:
"Did he slip on blood or an ice cream cone?"
"Why do people in horror movies always split up? Haven't they seen enough horror movies?"
I laughed. Maki laughed. Even Toge laughed quietly beside me, hiding it with his hand, shoulders shaking.
In one particularly ridiculous scene, a doll suddenly came to life. Gojo pitched his voice high:
"I'll love you forever… or rip you to shreds!"
We all burst out laughing.
Toge passed me a small handful of popcorn. I took it. Our fingers brushed.
It wasn't everything. But it was something.
And for that night…
That was enough.