The next morning, the memory of the previous evening clung to me like a second skin. It had been beautiful—one of those nights that felt like a dream. I kept thinking about the popcorn, Gojo-sensei's jokes, the shared laughter with Maki, and those stolen glances with Toge. I thought about the movie, about how his fingers had brushed mine. About how he had looked at me.
It had been perfect.
Maybe too perfect.
And perhaps that's why something inside me felt… unsettled.
That night, I'd had a dream. Strange. Vivid.
I was walking alone down a dark corridor. The walls were made of mirrors. Every time I turned to look, I saw myself with different eyes: in one mirror, I was laughing. In another, I was crying. In another still, my face was marked with Toge's cursed seal. And when I finally turned around—he was there.
Only him.
He was smiling at me.
But every step I took toward him… made him drift further away.
I woke up with my heart tight and a lingering melancholy clinging to my skin.
In class, I was distracted.
My gaze lost outside the window.
The voices around me were muffled.
The seat next to mine was empty.
Gojo-sensei hadn't shown up.
After a while, Maki stood and said:
<
A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, followed by light chatter and tired laughter.
<< So, what do we do now? >> Yuta asked, stretching his arms overhead.
That's when I raised my hand.
<< Why don't we go train? In the dojo? >>
There was a brief pause, then a chorus of agreement.
<< Finally, a gorgeus idea! >> Panda exclaimed, hopping down from his chair.
We all made our way to the training room.
The air inside felt different—charged, alive.
The wooden floor creaked beneath our steps, and the sunlight streaming through the windows cast warm reflections across the walls.
We started with some light warm-ups. Panda stretched in his usual comical way, spreading his arms like a giant stuffed toy.
<
<< Panda, please, >> Yuta laughed, tossing him a bottle of water. <
Maki, as always, was focused, but there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
I laughed—genuinely laughed—with my hands on my hips, my mind finally beginning to lighten.
Then Maki turned around.
<< Alright, pair up. Rebecca with... Toge.>>
I turned slowly, locking eyes with her.
She winked.
He was already there. Standing. Already looking at me.
I sighed. Maybe it was fate.
We stepped toward each other—slowly.
The floor seemed to echo every step, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
Everyone around us was busy preparing, but I saw only him.
The dream still clung to my thoughts, but his presence now felt real.
Warm. Tangible.
His expression was calm. But his eyes…
His eyes said something else.
And so, we stood—face to face.
Close enough to share a breath.
Ready to begin.
The training session took an unexpected turn.
More intense.
More alive.
Toge and I circled each other slowly, studying one another. His eyes never left mine. They weredark, liquid, filled with something I didn't dare name. They burned. They searched. And they spoke. I knew that look. I had once loved that look. And now… now it stole the breath from my lungs.
There was tension in the air—but not the kind that comes before a violent clash. It was the tension of two hearts that had drifted apart and now didn't know how to come back together. It was restrained desire, unspoken questions, need.
I moved first, feinting.
He blocked it with elegance, a slight smile on his lips. That smile cracked the cold still lingering inside me. His body was fluid, confident, but I could feel—he was trembling too.
I danced around him.
My steps were light, precise. I deflected each of his blows with grace, as though I were fighting off the ghost of that dream that had left me empty and full all at once.
With each movement, we brushed.
Fingers grazing his forearm, our shoulders drawing too close.
His breath against mine.
Every touch sparked.
Toge sought an opening, but I was faster. I dropped low, surprised him, struck him in the side.
Lightly. Controlled. But enough.
He let himself fall backward, a look of both amusement and awe on his face.
I had won.
I stepped toward him and offered him my hand. He took it—and once he was back on his feet, he didn't let go.
His fingers stayed wrapped around mine.
Warm. Trembling.
His gaze dropped to our joined hands, then rose to meet mine again. He looked… vulnerable.
Honest.
He pulled out his phone and typed:
"You're… unreal."
Then added:
"And beautiful. I can't take my eyes off you."
I held my breath.
My cheeks flushed, but I didn't look away. I leaned in slightly, gently took both his hands in mine.
Held them tightly.
<< Toge… You were the one who said it was safer for us to stay apart. That it was the right thing to do. You can't just… not like this. >>
He swallowed hard.
His eyes grew glassy.
He was shaking.
He raised one hand, bringing it slowly toward my face. His fingers brushed my cheek—but I stopped him halfway, softly.
<< Please… don't hurt me again. >>
He bit his lip and looked down. Then wrote:
"I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. I just know I can't stand being away from you. I want you. Here. Now. In every way."
My heart exploded.
I wanted to kiss him, to throw my arms around him, to scream that I wanted him too.
But I stood still. Frozen.
And that's when Gojo-sensei made his entrance—swaggering into the room, clapping his hands dramatically.
<< Alright, kids! It's late! Training's over! Back to the dorms. The new first-years arrive tomorrow—we have to set an example… or at least pretend to! >>
He slung an arm around Toge's shoulders, whispering something to him quietly.
I turned sharply, silently thanking the interruption—but also hating it.
That moment with Toge…
It had been real.
It had been everything.
And now it was broken.
We walked away in silence, but it tore at me like a wound.
And our eyes…
They didn't stop searching for each other.
***
Back in my room, silence greeted me like a damp blanket.
The lights were low.
My bed was still unmade.
The scent of my shampoo lingered in the air.
I slowly slipped off my shoes, as though I needed time to return to myself.
Toge's words still echoed against my skin.
"I want you. Here. Now."
Unforgettable.
Then I noticed the envelope on my nightstand.
White. No stamp.
Just two words, handwritten: Secret Admirer.
I widened my eyes, exhaling with a slight scoff.
Another one? Seriously?
But this time… something was different.
The handwriting was elegant, careful—as if the writer had taken their time. No signs of haste or sarcasm.
No childish tone.
I sat on the bed, legs tucked beneath me, heart beating slow and steady.
I opened the envelope cautiously, unfolded the letter inside—neatly folded into four—and began to read:
I saw you in the crowd on an ordinary day,
you were silence and voice, dream and reality.
I didn't speak. Not yet.
But since then, I haven't stopped thinking about you.
Your smile, like the first light of dawn,
lit corners I didn't know I had.
Your voice… I imagined it a thousand times,
while writing to you in silence, from afar.
I don't want to steal your heart—I want to protect it.
I don't want to be seen—I want to be felt.
If you ever feel alone, remember this:
somewhere, someone loves you.
Without asking for anything in return.
I sat in silence for a long moment.
The letter trembled in my hands.
This wasn't a silly love note.
There was care here.
Respect.
Poetry.
And most importantly…
There was none of the arrogance I had come to associate with Kaito.
No—this felt different.
Softer. Real.
I felt a sting in my gut.
Something delicate.
The letter left me confused, surprised. But for the first time… I didn't tear it up.
I folded it carefully and placed it in my nightstand drawer.
I'd figure it out. Eventually.
I lay on the bed, my heart unsteady.
There, between warm sheets, with the fading light seeping through the window, I felt suddenly exhausted.
Not physically. Inside.
Like every emotion I had tried to contain had finally crashed into me all at once.
I closed my eyes and drifted back to Toge.
To those hands I had stopped.
To those words still seared into my skin.
"I don't know what's right or wrong… I want you. Here. Now."
I placed a hand over my heart, as if to steady it.
I wanted to believe him.
To hold him.
To scream that I wanted him too—that I couldn't go on without him.
But something held me back.
Fear.
Pride.
Pain.
The realization that he had chosen to walk away from me—just when I had needed him the most.
I was tired of being someone's second choice.
I needed truth.
Stability.
Someone who stayed—no matter what.
And yet, his eyes, his tears, the silent voice that screamed from within him…
Everything about him told me that pain was eating him alive.
I rolled onto my side, clutching a pillow.
I felt fragile—caught between love and fear.
That secret admirer's letter had moved me… but it was still Toge who owned every inch of my heart.
Maybe someday I'd find the courage.
Maybe not.
But that night, I lay there staring at the ceiling,
with tears that refused to fall
and emotions that made me tremble.
I was in love.
Madly.
Irrevocably.
But I was also… wounded.
And the heart, when it breaks, only makes noise inside.