Tsubaki's Blog

everyone loved yuu. that word alone barely contained the sheer craziness, the scale of the affection the magicless human garnered during their short stay in NRC.

all, except for you, the leader of 'prefect's fan club'.

let's start from the beginning: you were a painfully average and plain person who tried their best to cope with the world via cheap entertainments. trashy novels, brainless games, you name it.

twisted wonderland was a sore eye, mainly because its graphics were considerably higher than the mindless, ad-bloated games you had on your phone. it was honestly a fun experience: seeing the insane worship the main character received through each chapter.

another than that, its worldbuilding wasn't that bad: the concept of 'overblotting' was well-executed. what put you off tough, was the various 'merry bad endings' you could get by the slightest slip of a mistake.

this game required thinking, something you threw away after a long, busy day. one wrong word, and the 'GAME OVER!' flashed red on the screen.

let's skip through the details of your miserable death, a fitting punishment for being on the phone while crossing the road when the green light hadn't even appeared.

so you woke up in a dorm room of, much to your dread, pomefiore’s. you had transmigrated into a background NPC, serving as one of the students fawning over yuu in some cutscenes you couldn't bother to remember.

one cool thing you found out about this body, though, was that its original owner had a fancy parasol. a majority of pomefiore students hailed from wealthy families, and it seemed you were lucky to land on the body of one such young master.

your luck stopped there when you recalled the setting of the game: one wrong move and you could be executed by the main love interests. you could try to remain low-profile, but you were a pomefiore student: that spelled attention already.

you were gripping your (surprisingly) majestic hair, thinking of a plan to help you survive, until you realized: you were meant to fall in love with yuu, just another NPC with an admiration that couldn't be compared to the utter devotion the real love interests had for them.

of course, since this was an inherently ridiculous setting, why not take it upon yourself to become the leader of the prefect's fan club?

after all, you could make a fortune out of yuu-based merchandises!

and that was how, your brainchild, a.k.a your lifeline, came to be. decorated in the signature pastel purple and wite, you actively organized meetings, prepared stuff such as glowsticks, keychains and even pictures of yuu during classes. sharing the same class with the famous magicless human had many of its perks.

occasionally, you spotted familiar figures, from the starters' duo, ace and deuce, who, at first, came to threaten you due to your intrusion of yuu's privacy, were persuaded almost immediately by a free offer of your merchandise.

"you....how did you take this picture?" ace had inquired when you gave him a sample of yuu's yawning during a history class. of course, it captured their glory perfectly because of your expensive polaroid.

"join the club~! we share our secrets there!" you hummed, spreading the stack of photos you had in your hands, much to both of their surprise.

there was a reason you were made the leader!

however, since the current timeline was still between chapter 2 and chapter 3, you got in trouble with your housewarden a lot for staying up late. after all, at this time, vil had yet to comprehend the greatness of yuu.

"you look absolutely horrendous." he commented, upon catching you sneak into your dorm after a fan meeting. you jolted, attempting pathetically to hide the stack of fan merchandise behind your back. a nervous whislte escaped your o-shaped lips as your eyes darted aside.

"sometimes, i find myself impressed by your self-destructive capability: not sleeping for 3 days straight, napping during flight classes, and breaking your own self-care routine." he added on, as though reading your crimes from a long paper scroll like a judge, and you were on a trial. when you were about to verbalize your protests, his fingers had rested against your lips.

"i do not want to hear another word from your dry lips. clean up and go to bed, now." oh, the absolute nerves! you awaited the day he would come begging to join your club. you wondered what he would purchase first? a photo of yuu, a pen, or a keychain? the options were endless in your club.

although your housewarden and many others from your dorm had yet to be charmed by yuu yet (which was a shame considering how many rich students there were; you could drain their entire pocket), other previous dorms, like heartslaybul and savanaclaw, had been utterly captivated.

which was why one of your favorite pastimes was to blackmail tease the housewarden: riddle rosehearts!

"riddle~!"

"goldfish~!"

that was the combo of double trouble that rivalled ace and deuce's annoying existence. at least with the latter, riddle had a fair chance of discipling them. you and floyd? you bet he would run away from his current spot already. when you and one of the notorious leech twins met face-to-face, coldness intruded into the air. the two of you didn't spare one another; dagger glares clashed against each other. the tension in the cafeteria was so thick that it caused other unfortunate students in the nearest vicinity to gulp. a shared laughter cut through the ice like nothing, as your hands rested onto riddle's shoulders.

"oh, what honor do i have to meet with such an elusive figure?" you gave him a half-assed smile, eyes closed in a mockingly happy expression. despite his mood swings being a danger to the NPCs, he had yet to be captured by yuu yet, so you enjoyed toying with floyd a lot.

(translated: why the fuck do i have to encounter a creep like you!?)

"seems like mx. cuttlefish is intered in goldfish too! you aren't about to eat him, are you~?"

(translated: i know you hoe is NOT genuine)

lightning pratically sparked from the prolonged eye contact, and it wasn't until riddle bravely complained about you two that you stopped. you huffed, cheeks puffed in annoyance, before leaving for your table. you couldn't take floyd down, at least not in a physical fight. the tables would turn when yuu happened; you were sure of it!

last but not least, epel femier. the first year was so amusingly adorable, and what was that? always inquiring about yuu! oh, the sweet taste of puppy love that would soon be twisted into a consuming obsession: you were delighted not to partake in any of that.

he was so short compared to your body; each greeting hug would ended up in him being smothered by your chest. the beauty didn't hide his envy of your taller and presumably stronger frame, pushing you out in petty anger. you knew this, as his story was the one more focused on during chapter 5.

"i don't understand yer obsession with that magicless human." he piped up, in that dialect of his when you scooted next to him in the cafeteria. your cheeks puffed from the anger of being utterly defeated, something he probably didn't notice due to the lack of comments.

"how could i not!" you gasped, as though offended by his words. "did you not see their marvelous obsidian eyes? the twinkles that could shame the brightest stars in the sky? their laughs radiated the warmth of the sun itself!"

as you continued the passionate lectures of your admiration for the prefect, clasped hands with eyes closed in reminiscence, you failed to notice how epel became increasingly interested in his lunch, or how a spark of annoyance flashed through his eyes so slightly. he knew, though, that even if you had noticed it, you would just chuck down to him throwing a tantrum of his seniors' eccentricity again.

you were so frustratingly oblivious.

that was how an usual day in NRC went for you: hoarding money from NPCs, sleeping during classes, getting scolded by vil, and most importantly, organizing meetings!

it was supposed to be another mundane day, as you headed towards the empty storage that crowley had allowed you to use. a stack of money was in your hands, index finger flipped through each of them to count meticulously, a satisfied cat-like smile tugged your lips.

supposed, because when you opened the door, the figure you didn't expect to encounter as of now the most, was there.

the main character, the empty vessel the players controlled: yuu.

they were sitting on a chair, eyes reading a book that you recognized, with a horrified thought, the fanfic you had written of them to prove your dedication.

it was meant to be something like 'hah, i know yuu most than you! follow my lead!', and even during your hazes, motivated by alcoholism, you wouldn't dare to fathom the fact that the protagonist would be reading that with a concerning fixation.

they tilted their head back in boredom, deep eyes lit up at the sight of you. gosh, they were beautiful, but not in the way vil was. it reminded you of those polished porcelain dolls your father used to collect, sitting obediently in their respective cupboards. those eyes, as though painted in by a deity above, scanned your figure.

"i've been dying to meet you." they rested the book on their lips, no doubt hiding their growing smile.

SOS!

Deuce ♠️

Cater♦️

Trey ♣️

Riddle🌹

you may or may not pursue him romantically and insist on keeping things strictly about co-parenting. honestly, it doesn't matter much to connor. in the end, he'll make sure no one else gets close enough to steal your attention anyway.

he'll still greedily soak up every ounce of affection you unknowingly throw his way.

you kiss your daughter goodbye before leaving for work? he'll stand beside the doorway afterward, waiting with almost embarrassing anticipation until you absentmindedly lean over to kiss his forehead too. the first time you did it, your excuse had been, "well... you're technically family too." after that he knows that you're exactly where he wanted you to be.

connor had to lock himself in the bathroom afterward because his inner omega wouldn't stop purring. from then on, he quietly started lingering by the door every single morning.

if one day you're distracted enough to forget, he won't ask for it directly. no, he'll simply stare at you with those heavy, disappointed eyes while rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. maybe he'll sigh. maybe he'll mumble, "...must've been half asleep today."

you'll blink, realize what you forgot, then laugh apologetically before walking back over.

he practically melts whenever you come home exhausted from work and immediately ask where the baby is before you've even taken your shoes off. he'll pretend to complain that you always greet the pup first, only for you to smile sheepishly and wrap an arm around his waist too.

"happy now?"

"...a little."

he's lying. he's literally over the moon, imaginary tail practically wagging happily like rocky whenever the he gave the dog a treat just by simply exist.

watching you naturally slip into the role of a parent feeds every possessive instinct inside him. you'll spend hours making silly faces just to make your daughter giggle, patiently rocking her back to sleep at three in the morning even though you have work in a few hours, carrying her around the house while humming songs you heard when you're still a pup.

every time connor catches those moments, he falls a little harder, there's a glint in his eyes as if saying "see? you were made for this."

he'll quietly take hundreds of candid photos when you aren't looking. one of you asleep on the couch with your daughter drooling on your chest. another of you cooking with the baby strapped securely against you because she refused to stop crying unless you were holding her. one where you're laughing after she managed to grab your nose with both tiny hands.

those become his favorite pictures.

he'll frame some around the house without even asking. others become the lock screen on his phone. a few stay hidden away in a private folder he scrolls through whenever you're working late.

sometimes, he catches himself staring at them with a smile so soft it almost scares him. he almost forgot those grueling years he experienced back on the barracks.

and every now and then, he'll deliberately reinforce the image of the three of you as a family. never forcefully of course, he's still cautious. afraid that you'll pull away if he's pushed too far amd fast.

he'll introduce you to strangers as his daughter's alpha parent instead of simply saying "the father/mother/your tittle." he'll casually mention, "we're taking her to the park this weekend," or,"we've been thinking about changing her bedtime routine." always we and never me.

if someone mistakes the two of you for a married couple, connor won't correct them. he'll simply smile politely while waiting to see if you will, at first you'll quickly correct them (and he'll let you) but most of the time, you're too tired to bother.

"...it's easier this way," you'll mutter once the conversation ends.

connor has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too widely.

first it's easier to let people assume you're together. then it's easier to spend every holiday at connor's house because your daughter is already there. easier to have a drawer full of your clothes in his bedroom instead of carrying an overnight bag back and forth. easier to stay after dinner because the baby already fell asleep on your chest.

before long, you'll find yourself sleeping at his house more nights than not.

one evening you'll wake up on his couch with your daughter curled against your side, connor asleep in the armchair beside you after insisting he'd "just keep watch for a little while." sunlight will be filtering through the curtains, breakfast half-finished on the table, laundry folded neatly nearby.

you'll blink around the quiet house before an odd thought crosses your mind.

this... feels nice. comfortable even. like home.

connor won't say a word when he notices the realization settle across your face. he'll simply smile to himself while pretending to read the newspaper.

because he knows there's no rush anymore, you were already building a pack around him.

all he had to do... was to make sure you'll never found out that he planned this.

It was the middle of the night and a few days after his eighteenth birthday when he broke into your room, and by broke in, he literally broke your window to get in. The sound of glass shattering woke you up as the familiar, heavy footsteps of your best friend stomped over to your bed.

"They're making me leave!" He cried, completely uncaring that he woke you, or that he broke your window, or that it was the middle of the night and this was decidedly insane behavior.

"...Yeah, I know." Of course you knew. You knew it was coming for years. You were more surprised that he didn't know.

"You knew?!"

"Everyone did." And you were fine with that. You had your entire youth to make peace with it. He was strong, you were weak. He was going to leave for great things, you were going to stay and work some dead-end job for the rest of your life.

"Well, if you knew, you had time to prepare then." He said it with this...hopeful gleam in his eye. You didn't trust it for a second.

"I've been preparing." You affirmed warily.

"Good. Good." He took a few deep breaths and started moving about your room. "So where's your suitcase?"

"What?"

"Your suitcase." He said slower and more clearly as if his enunciation had been the reason for your misunderstanding, "Where is it? You should be packed and ready to go if you prepared."

"I don't...I don't understand."

"You said you're prepared. As in, prepared to come with me, obviously." It was as if you not coming, not playing the sidelined cheerleader, was not even a possibility to him.

"James, I can't come."

"Sure you can."

"I don't have powers, James!" You gritted in frustration. Maybe if you had powers, maybe if you were special like him, you would jump to be partnered up with him for the rest of your life. But you didn't have powers and you would forever be unequal. "I couldn't even be your sidekick-"

"A sidekick?! No, I'd never let you be a sidekick. That's way too dangerous for you!" He said it with a lack of condescension, as if it were fact. To be fair, it was fact that you were weak, but to hear it from him was a new kind of irritating. "But you could be like...I dunno. An assistant? A secretary?"

"I'm not-"

He cut you off, "Oh! You could be my manager!"

"I don't want to be your manager!" You snapped. You were sure that in James's eyes, this was a grand, sudden betrayal, but to you, this was a long time coming. You spent your entire life trapped by the brilliance of your friend. It didn't matter how great you were. He would always be greater. You loved James, you really did, but as long as he was near, you couldn't love yourself.

"...well, that's..." He paused and you were taken aback by the shift in his usually bubbly demeanour. You've never seen him look so...well, you couldn't even describe the sudden coldness he demonstrated, "That's too bad."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something in protest against this complete and utter disregard for your input, but he quickly sealed a strong hand over your lips to keep you silent.

"There's really no arguing here, [Name]. I kind of need you. No, I really need you. I can't be a hero without you, so I have to take you with me."

"MMF!!!" Your shout was obviously silenced, but it was worth a try.

"Shh, let's not fight. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm doing what's best for both of us." He stroked his thumb against your cheek with unmistakable fondness, "So...you're gonna be my manager, yeah?"

You shook your head. You couldn't move your head much, but he could definitely feel your attempted movements.

"I'm so sorry, [Name], but I am going to take you by force if I have to. I'm sure the higher-ups won't mind if I tell them I need you. Plus, management says I'm allowed to take precious items with me."

...

So, you're his personal manager now. You stick by his side, you book his events, you tell him what to say and what to wear, you help him do everything that isn't superpowers-related and most importantly, you don't. leave.

he wakes up before sunrise, takes a shower, goes through his entire skincare routine, and carefully applies his makeup before you even realize he's no longer in bed. once everything looks flawless, he'll quietly slip back beneath the blankets and pepper your face with sleepy morning kisses.

he doesn't care about your morning breath. but you've noticed that he always tastes faintly of mint and cherry lip balm whenever he kisses you first thing in the morning.

and when you ask him about it, he'll simply tilt his head in confusion.

"what do you mean? i'm always like this."

you didn't believe that of course, but the sweet smile on his pretty face is far too distracting, so you just let him off the hook.

then again, he strives to become the most perfect partner you've ever had, so perfect that the thought of divorcing him or leaving him never crosses your mind even once.

he moves like a clockwork, cooks every meal you'll eat, packs your lunches with cute little notes hidden inside, keeps every piece of your clothing perfectly washed, ironed, and folded, and even helps you get dressed every morning. by now, he knows exactly which tie matches which shirt without you having to say a word.

while also keeping a sweet smile and cheery soft tone he always gives you, never yelled or rise his voice ever once, hell- the far he can go with you is pouting and huffing in frustration until you picked up your dirty sock you forgot to put away.

but the moment you give him a goodbye kiss and the front door clicks shut...

his smile disappears. every trace of that sweet, doting husband vanishes as fast as someone flipped a switch.

he quietly begins his daily chores without a single unnecessary movement. not even a soft hum escapes his lips. the house falls eerily silent, save for the occasional sound of dishes clinking or the washing machine running.

when it's time to buy groceries, he's already standing outside the market before the employees have even unlocked the entrance.

and the second the doors open, it's practically a battlefield for him and the other housewives.

he'll fight tooth and nail for the freshest vegetables, the ripest fruits, and the highest-quality cuts of meat (if you happen to eat meat.)

some of the neighborhood housewives have already learned to recognize him.

he's polite, but his smile seems forced. he apologizes whenever his cart accidentally bumps into theirs yet he always walks away with the last premium cut of beef and the freshest produce while everyone else is left wondering how they lost to that "sweet young husband."

not knowing that he has an absolute strategies planned out meticulously, like a subtle trip of someone's cart, a gentle little shove disguised as an accident, even goes as far as sweet talking the employees to give him the product that hasn't been opened from the box yet.

anything to make sure only the best ends up on your dinner plate of course.

he's really only sweet around you while to everyone else... he's rather unsettling. he'll casually slip between you and someone who stands a little too close and gives an eerie smile towards the pest.

his smile never falters as he tells them with a hostile tone underneath his voice, "sorry, my spouse gets uncomfortable around people." even when you literally never say anything about it, he sometimes goes as far to threat them whenever you're not paying attention.

coworkers who linger around your desk too often somehow end up transferring departments/jobs making the others spread a rumours to the point they're afraid to get anywhere close to you now.

neighbors who become a little too friendly suddenly moved out of the neighborhood (you never forget the frightened expression they gave you when they're moving boxes to the moving truck).

that overly cheerful cashier who complimented your smile once mysteriously gone, the missing poster with their face on it were hanged on the wall outside of the supermarket they worked at. when you told your husband about it, he just cooed in faux pity, wishing the police would find the poor cashier as soon as possible while trying to hide his smile.

not to mention how strict he monitors you, while he never question your loyalty- his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him would make him browse through your phone daily whenever you left it unattended.

he checks your messages, your emails, your deleted photos. your recently emptied trash folder, even your weather app- just to make sure of course. you laughed the first time you caught him staring at it.

"...why are you checking my weather app?"

"oh, i was wondering if you'd need an umbrella today."

every evening, he asks about your day while serving dinner and he would listens so attentively that anyone would mistake it for genuine insterest.

but the way his eyes never leave your face told something deeper than that. he analyzes every pause, every twitch, every nervous smile just to search for even the slightest hint of dishonesty.

and his real self almost slips through whenever he did so, when the smile on his face becomes just a little too stiff and his grip on the serving spoon tightens.

"...who were you talking to after work?"

his voice remains gentle yet his eyes darken with obsessive glint, but it vanished before you can even notice before cheerfully serving you another helping.

apologizing for asking such a silly question whenever he found you're actually being honest, nothing go worry about.

he'd much rather keep pretending to be the perfect husband than remind the world why he worked so hard to become one in the first place.

it took far too much blood to earn the peaceful life he has now. and he'd gladly spill twice as much if it meant keeping it.

Well, you don’t know what was going on behind closed doors so you can’t be the one at blame. But that’s why you were so oblivious to everything. From how passive aggressive they’ve been for the last few days and how avoidant they became over the topic of dating. 

As much as you’d like to say it’s an exaggeration of some sort for dramatic effect, it really isn’t.

Somehow you don’t notice how much they try to get closer to you— physically or mentally. You also don’t notice how fast they respond to your every beck and call. You slowly start noticing because it feels off. Something just didn’t feel right.

But, on the bright side, you really did like him… in a way at least. 

He was nice, attractive and financially well-off. He practically ticked all of your boxes.

The realisation hadn’t hit you on the fact that maybe you admired him a little bit more than just friends. You hadn’t noticed how you started staring at him for longer than usual, thinking about him more and then the thought clicked in your mind that maybe you started to like him.

It’s safe to say they did not like him. To them, he was nothing but an obstacle— a hindrance— but you thought he was everything. They saw the way your pupils dilate when he walks into the room. They notice how you get quiet and just watch him in awe for a solid second before snapping back to reality.

So they knew. They knew before the first time you mentioned this crush, which was at lunch when you were eating with the other first years.

There were hustles and bustles of people shifting around the cafeteria, people going over to sit down or throw away their trash. It was as lively as usual so you thought it would be a good time. 

Key word: thought.

“Y’know, I think Atlas is pretty cute,” you suddenly mention.

They all go quiet, multiple pairs of skeptical gazes on you. Their moods almost seem to deflate right in front of you, if you were to actually notice it.

“What? I’m serious,” you emphasise. “He’s totally cute,”

“Atlas? What? Like the guy from Octavinelle?” Deuce clarifies, raising a brow, green eyes darting to you in confusion.

He knows he’s dumb and he sometimes can’t tell if you’re joking but he can’t be this dumb, right?

Oh, how he wishes you were joking. 

“Yeah, and I was thinking if you guys could help me,” you add on, biting your lip as you fiddled with your food.

If you were able to read minds, you would know how much they are fighting to say ‘fuck no’ straight to your face.

“How?” Jack asked, ears perking up.

“I don’t know. Maybe you guys could talk to him, invite him to the table or whatnot and maybe I can get to know him better,” you respond, crossing your arms on the wooden table.

“Wouldn’t that be a little awkward?” Ace mentions, as if he even cares that much. 

“Not if you don’t make it awkward,” you reply with a little too much sass than you intended originally. “And I think it’ll be beneficial to start joining the dating game since we’re all technically adults.”

“Sure, I guess,” Epel murmurs.

“I think that sounds amazing [name]!” Ortho’s the only one who seems excited by your announcement. And he’s also the only one that’s willing to stay with you for longer than 5 minutes.

You were on the grassy field with him, disappointedly eating your apple with such roughness that your teeth threatened to fall off. The frustration had started to colonise your mind. You didn’t know everything would just go so horribly so quickly, and furthermore, you didn’t even know why.

They avoided you as if you were the plague, like a disease that nobody wanted to touch. But you’re not. If you were, you would know and at least understand but you’re not.

Venting to Ortho helped a lot with the pain. He was so sweet and caring. Maybe because he can’t necessarily experience jealousy.

“I-I just don’t know; it’s like I did something that upset everyone,” you say, sighing to yourself as you picked at the core of the apple. “Why do men have to be so confusing? It’s like everyday there’s something new and I don’t know what’s going on— I never do.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around soon!” He’s so cheerful when he says it that it makes you pause.

…Does he know? He sounds sure. Too sure.

“What do you mean by that?” you tilt your head and give him a perplexed expression, almost accusing him of something.

He panics. 

“Uh, I meant— they’re going to get out of this phase! Yeah! That’s what I meant!” His tone is shaky and you can see the fear rushing through his robotic wires. He floats backwards and says, “I’ll get going now! I think Idia is calling me!”

His robotic frame gets smaller the more he walks away before ultimately disappearing from your line of vision.

You sit uncomfortably on the grass, feeling the sharp prickles of the blades stab at your thigh. Well, that wasn’t weird at all…

—

The next day feels the same. No one stops for you. No one speaks to you.

At lunch, you end up eating alone. The room isn’t quiet but it feels like it is, save for the hushed murmurs and the occasional glance your way. You pretend not to notice, like it isn’t making you go crazy.

At this point, everyone knows that something is up, whether it’s from just observing you or from gossip that’s spread like wildfire.

You’re not even sure who the leak is and why they could possibly want to out you like this, but somehow, a huge chunk of the student body knows about your silly little crush. So it didn’t take long for your actual crush to know.

It makes you uneasy. However, no one’s mentioned it directly to your face… not until you receive a message.

It’s the housewarden of Savanaclaw that decides to dip himself into the waters to test it. 

[Leona]: so, how’s it going with that guy? [You]: It’s been going fine. I really do think it might work out. [Leona]: …do you? [You]: Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? [Leona]: Hm. [You]: What’s that supposed to mean? [Leona]: Nothing. Just doesn’t sound very convincing. [You]: And you’d know? [Leona]: I’ve heard people in arranged marriages sound more convincing than you. You should learn from them. [You]: I didn’t ask for your opinion. [Leona]: didn’t say you did, but you’re still trying to prove it to me anyway. That one sends you over the edge. [You]: I know what I feel. And what I feel is love. [Leona]: …sure, keep telling yourself that, herbivore.

The attitude was so palpable, even through the damn screen you felt it. You don’t know what’s gotten with everyone but you don’t like it. From the way they start to divert their gazes to being seemingly more impatient.

When you used to ask Ace to hang out, he’d always be there for you but all of a sudden he’s always busy, despite not caring for academics. It’s the same with almost everyone from the first years, second years and even the third years.

Even Kalim, the epitome of sunshine, seems a bit destroyed. The ones you thought would’ve at least been there like Lilia, Trey and Malleus were all gone. Actually, some still didn’t mind spending time with you, but it was awkward— tenser than the usual, effortless conversations that used to flow naturally.

Then, you come across Atlas in the hallways and he stops you.

“[Name], I heard…” he trails. “And I was just thinking that maybe we can have a date on the weekends?”

The request blows your mind. What do you even say to that? Do you kneel and beg for marriage? Or do you just stand there?

Nonetheless, you keep your composure and act like this isn’t totally life changing. “Yes, absolutely, just text me the place and time.” You smile politely.

“I need your phone number then,” he pulls out his phone and you two exchange numbers swiftly to prevent blocking the hallway for too long. 

You try not to break out in happy tears as you hug your device to your chest, because you feel that maybe there is some ounce of hope for you in the future of your love life.

—

Taking a sharp inhale, your knuckle taps on Vil’s door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Then, with a soft click opens the door, you see him in all his glory.

“Vil, can you please help me pick a dress for my date?” you interlock your hands together to beg, puppy eyes gracing your face.

He’s reluctant, but he says yes anyway since he can’t reject you. 

The process was strenuous. It was no, after no, after no, after no. Almost every dress felt like it wasn’t approved by both parties.

You came out with what felt like the millionth dress, which was for some reason, latex. It was tight but hugged your curves enough to flaunt it. Regardless of the fact that Atlas might like it, you definitely didn’t— it just way too tight and felt suffocating.

“What about this one?” You look at yourself in the mirror.

“That’s… no,” he replies, trying to cover the blush on his face. He gets closer to you, adjusting the hem and neckline, fingers lightly hovering over your skin.

Then you tried a few more on and found the perfect one. It was comfortable enough for long wear and proper enough.

“I think this is the best option,” you say.

“Probably, do you want me to do your make up as well?” he offers, opening his make up bag full of expensive brands that would normally cost you an arm & leg. For him, it’s probably just pocket change though.

You were all dolled up— wearing the dress you’ve spent a boatload of money on and the makeup that was applied using Vil’s expertise and expensive tools. 

There’s a deep, gnawing pit in the blonde boy’s stomach as he tries his best to not crash out. He knows the feeling of jealousy but this was something different. Envy? Anger? 

He clenches his jaw while the blank expression in his optics blur. His mind trails into dreamland where you’re not skipping off happily into another man’s arms, but into his. He’s the one that hugs you and touches you and kisses you, not some loser from Octavinelle.

But it’s not. He wakes up to the same reality he dreads everyday where you’re not his.

—

The date goes smoothly, with you finally having your first kiss with him and learning more about each other. Apparently, he enjoys practically everything you do— a match made in heaven. He watches the same shows, listens to the same music, and has the same taste in food.

Leaves crunch under your heels, skies dark, humming to yourself in satisfactory success, you accidentally trip over a sleeping body, leading you to fall forward and land on top of the perpetrator.

“I-I’m so sorry!” You were quick to get up, hardly noticing who you’ve bumped into.

“What the— don’t worry about it herbivore,” he changes his tone as soon as he realises who you were. 

“Leona?” You look at him. 

“Herbivore?” there’s a smirk on his face. “How was your date with that… guy?”

He cringes. 

“It went great and I think it might actually be… official?” you answer, a twinge of excitement intertwined.

The rolls of his eyes don't go unmissed. “Are you really sure this is what you want, herbivore?” Leona asks, unconvinced. 

“Yes!”

He grumbles. 

“Leona! I— are you jealous?” You snort, the word comes out acidic but unavoidable.

He grunts. “So what if I am?” he spits back, voice a little harsher than before.

This makes you tilt your head. Fuck. That’s when everything clicked for you. You’re so stupid.

“Leona, I-I’m sorry…” you step back. 

“Huh, you’re starting to get it now,” he clicks his tongue, watching as the realization seeps into your pores.

“B-but why?” You query.

“You can figure that out,” he leaves the room, allowing you to sit in your own thoughts.

It takes your slow brain a while to comprehend everything.

That’s when you decided to confront each dorm. Even though you technically don’t know who’s at fault. But logically, it’s not fair if they’re so upset by something like this. They don’t have to be your everything.

First was Heartslabyul, where Ace & Deuce usually were at this ime. 

hour but it was Riddle who opened the door for you. You hate the disappointed look in his eyes but you’ve gotta stand your ground too.

“Riddle, can we talk?” you plead.

He stares you up and down, his soft features beaming under the light. It makes you realise how gorgeous he actually was. But you snap out of it. 

It’s not the time.

“Sure, come in,” he answers, opening the door wider for you.

You let yourself in, spotting Ace & Deuce playing poker together, Cater scrolling on magicam, and Trey baking something of some sorts— the wafts of baked goods coming in soft waves. 

Turning around, you grab Riddle’s hand and squeeze it tightly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

His ears perk up. “For?”

“Y’knoww…” you bite your lip. “Forr dating Atlas since I know you don’t approve of him.”

That’s the moment before everything goes south. The conversation started to falter when more parties started to get involved. 

“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have gone on a date with him!” Ace debates.

“But I didn’t know and it’s my life, I deserve to live it how I want,” you argue. 

“Yes but you’re our friend, [name].” He says. “I-I don’t want to lose you,”

“Ace, I’m not dying! I’m just going on a few dates with this guy and—” you start raising your voice higher in hopes that he’s going to understand.

He cuts you off. “But you’ve been ditching us so much lately,”

“Because you’re avoiding me?” you question.

“We have not. We try to talk to you but you’re stuck thinking about him in your own thoughts,” Deuce adds.

You dislike how they’re pinning the blame on you despite the fact that they’ve been doing exactly what they accuse you of doing. The hypocrisy makes you reel. 

“I know you’re jealous but seriously, I want to live my own life outside of you guys… I’m sorry,” you shake your head in disbelief. 

“Ace, that’s enough,” Trey scolds. 

“Aww, it was just getting good!” Cater whines, finally looking up from the screen. 

“Cater,” Riddle calls him out, causing him to immediately shut up. 

“I-I just came here to tell you guys that I’m thinking about making it official with him and—” you explain, only to be cut off by an annoyed Ace.

“There you go again!” his brows furrow, jaw tightening. He soon storms off and slams the door behind him, sending all the furniture shaking. “It’s like you don’t even listen!” his yells can still be heard.

“You guys can’t be this jealous,” you shake your head, plopping down onto the cushions of the couch. 

“[Name], I really do think you should reconsider,” Riddle’s voice is stern when he talks.

“Hey, it’s her life,” Trey supports you.

They all look at him in betrayal. They swore he was not on your side. 

“Thank you!” You say, gratefulness eminent in your words.

“But I really do think you should rethink this,” Trey opposes his previous statement. “There’s better out there,”

His tone is warm, loving even. He truly does care about you and doesn’t want to just let you make choices that you’ll regret.  

“Yeah, I can’t imagine you betraying me for someone else,” Cater hugs you, the heat of proximity radiating from his body onto yours.

Maybe they’re right. It might not be the best time to start dating and the pool is vast. There’s so much more to life than this and if dating this guy means sacrificing your entire friends list, maybe it’s not worth it.

You’re conflicted.

The walk to Savanaclaw was stressful. Mind racing like formula cars in the last lap, switching between your relationship or your friends. This only leads your trepidation to increase. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as there’s no telling what the future may hold.

“Hey [name]! How’s your relationship going?” The hyena boy’s voice is cheery as he greets you. “Are ya’ here to see Jack?”

“No, I, kinda?” you stutter, not able to make coherent sentences. “Listen, I’m just asking for some input before my relationship with you-know-who escalates.”

Your approach is different.

“My input?” disbelief washes over his face.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

He thinks with a hand on his chin as if he’s in a cartoon. “I don’t really think you should date at all y’know. Maybe you should wait until like graduation or something.” His hands go outwards into a shrug. “But it’s all up to you! After all, it’s not just my business. Hope this guy’s really worth the time though,”

He flees the scene, light footsteps as he disappears into the dark.

The last part of his speech lingers in the back of your mind. Nonetheless, meeting Ruggie was so much more refreshing than you thought. It was nice to meet someone who had a more positive outlook on life despite totally rejecting your relationship in its entirety.

Jack’s eyes dart from you onto the ground. He pretends as if he doesn’t see you, only worsening the growing guilt inside you. 

“Jack, it’s been a while,” you start the conversation. “How are you?”

He breathes. “Good, what do you need?”

The shift in his words are a tell-tale sign. The ‘good’ seems forced, as if it’s far from what he’s showing.

“I just wanted to ask you if you approve of my relationship with Atlas, since not many of you do apparently…” explained by you.

He puts down the book he was reading, or at least looking at. “I think it’s fine,” 

“What?”

“Yeah but I don’t know what he’s like so I can’t tell you if I approve or not,” he pauses. “But if he does anything, please tell me,”

It makes your heart melt. 

“Thanks Jack

It’s like they all have the same script (like that stupid AI study tool ads by college students). You would’ve spoken to Leona, but he was nowhere to be seen so you just decided to leave it and continue onto the next dorm.

He would’ve said something like: “do whatever you want, but don’t come crying if something goes wrong,” and you don’t really feel like dealing with the guilt trip.

Octavinelle, alone, was one of the worst experiences mainly because of Floyd.

He’d been so obviously rampaging everywhere and anywhere, seeing you only made it worse. At this point, the 

“Ehh Shrimpy, what’re you doing here?” he moans with an absolute look of despair. “Don’t you have a date to get to?”

“Not anymore, but I do want to ask you about it,” you answer calmly, hoping it’ll be reflected onto him or something. 

“Yer’ literally ditching us for lower class octavinelle guy, he’s ooo boooorringg like there’s better in this dorm ya’ know?” he holds his neck with that terrifying glare that drills holes into you.

You opened your mouth to speak.

Then, Azul appears with Jade from the dark. “Hmm… what is this about?” he is beaming, hands behind his back like he’s some sort of master from a martial arts movie.

“I was just gonna ask your guys’ opinion on Atlas… before I date him officially or something,” you mumble. 

That seems to be enough to calm Floyd down. 

“Well, why didn’t ya’ say so Shrimpy?!” he cheers, going over to give you a tight squeeze… that knocks all the oxygen out of your lungs.

Luckily, it’s only brief so you’re dropped very soon, left to choke on air. 

“That’s good to hear,” the corner of Jade’s lips tug. “I do hope he’s suitable for you if you do choose him.”

“Yes, but I don’t think that’s happening if a majority of everyone disagrees,” you state.

The blue-haired boy fights back the smirk. “Very well, then I don’t think you need our input.”

“Well, I might need more than just a simple yes or no,” you add.

Jade and Azul exchanged a brief glance, but it’s Floyd who speaks first.

“I just don’t wanna share you, Shrimpy~” Floyd reasons, hands wrapped around your waist to give you a back hug and his head resting atop yours.

You facepalm, sighing. “That can’t be your reason, Floyd.”

“Well it is,” he giggles, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“If this individual brings you benefits then I see no issue,” Azul claims. “But I do wonder what he has that makes him so special.”

You sigh for the umpteenth time. “He’s nice, shares the same interests with me and pretty well-off so…”

“How interesting, I didn’t know that was your type but I do hope he is worthy of your attention,” Jade forces a grin.

“But he’s soo boring. Just dump him,” Floyd groans, feeling a bit upset that his twin and boss aren’t convincing you to ditch him.

“Well, thanks guys, I’ll get going now…” you pry off the eel’s arms and dash out the door.

They stared as you ran off, murmuring amongst themselves that you have no idea if you want to hear or not.

Now you’re off to Scarabia. The first thing you saw as soon as you stepped past the threshold was Jamil cooking in the kitchen, seemingly pretty occupied by something.

“Jamil?” you peep past the wall.

He turns his head. “[Name]...”

“May I come in?” you ask.

“Yeah, but Kalim’s been pretty upset recently so I’m not sure if he can—” he starts talking again, only for you to interrupt.

“That’s exactly why I’m here. I don’t think everyone exactly agrees with me and I just wanted to know what everyone thought about it.” You answer.

“Do you even know him that well? How do you know he’s not lying?” Jamil asks, expertly cutting the vegetables on the board. “Why are you even asking me this?”

The question comes out passive-aggressive. You don’t know if he actually meant it that way or what but frankly, you feel offended that he would ask such a thing.

“Jamil, I hold you very dear to me and I can’t just let something like this get between us,” you get closer to him.

He takes a deep breath. “It’s none of my business and it’s your life,”

You hate how he avoids your gaze— how he refuses to just spare you a glance. So, out of pure frustration and anger, you grab his wrists and force him to look you in your eyes. 

“Jamil, you’re precious to me. What don’t you understand about it? I love you,”

His heart thumps louder. “Of course I’m upset.” He finally admits. “I don’t like seeing you with him. 

Well, that’s out of the way. That’s 12 votes against you and Atlas. Only 9 more to go! At this point you probably should’ve given up on hoping for at least 1 person to agree with you. Not just saying that it’s your life, but also on the whole relationship itself.

You offered Jamil to deliver Kalim’s food since it seemed appropriate at the time and you owed the vice-housewarden some grace.

Kalim’s defeated. Stumped. Dejected. 

There’s barely enough words to describe how he barely has enough energy to move and his eyes are blood-shot red. 

“Why are you ditching us for him? I miss you a lot, [name].” Kalim says in between his sobs and sniffles.

“We can still hang out,” you say empathetically. “Hey, I’ll stop talking to him if it bothers you so much,”

“Really? I-I thought it was gonna be okay but I don’t like you with him,” you can hear the pain in his throat as he spoke.

“Very well then,” was the last thing you said before departing to Pomefiore.

Rook hid in the trees, waiting for you, knowing that you were coming. He immediately jumped out from seemingly nowhere and greeted you, making you jump. 

“Bonjour trickster! What brings you here today?” The blonde asks. 

“GAH— ROOK! You can’t just come outta nowhere and scare me like that!” You scold him, pinching your nose bridge in disappointment. “But, I was here to ask if you would support me dating Atlas?”

“Absolutely! Love is a magnificent force… yet I do wonder, does he truly see your beauty in all its glory?” He twists the sentence to bring your hopes up to break it all down in an instant.

“He does, thank you very much,” you say sarcastically. 

“Will you be staying here for long? I do not mind sharing a bed with you!” He excitedly says.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m only here to check up on everyone,” you respond, before saying your goodbyes and rushing to Epel’s room.

There’s a soft whisper of “to think someone stands in where I wish to be…” from him as soon as you’re out of earshot.

Epel’s probably one of the more furious ones— you can see it in his soft features but he tries his best not to.

“So… what do you think?” you ask. 

“You could do way better than him y’know,” Epel says. “He’s not the only one that can make ya’ happy,”

“I know, I know.” You repeat. “Do you know where Vil is… since I need to talk to him about this as well,”

“He’s out doing some shoot,” Epel replies, short and firm. 

“Oh…” you blink. “Alright, I’ll get going then.”

Idia’s the one you’re most neutral about. He’s frightened and annoyed all in one emotion. He’s made peace with the fact that you’re not his to claim but annoyed with you for not noticing… or for him not trying.

He opens the door only by a bit— enough to see tiny parts of you and for the sound to come through. 

“[N-name], what are you here for?” He speaks in a terrified tone.

“Idia, can we talk?” Your voice comes from the other side.

He swore the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his blue hair flared dramatically.

“A-about what?” His sentences are executed in short stutters.

“Let me in then I’ll tell you,” something in your tone is sharp and condescending that scares Idia even more, but it works…

He opens the door wider with reluctance. 

“W-what do you want to talk about?” He asks, retreating back to his gaming chair, watching you carefully.

“I wanted to talk about my relationship with Atlas,” you explain yourself.

“Oh, right. Your boyfriend. Good for you,” he mutters.

“Not yet my boyfriend,” you correct him.

“Cool,” he replies, only building the awkwardness more.

“Do you approve? Cus it seems to me like you don’t,” you state.

He feels the pressure you’re exerting onto him. “Uh— I mean… it’s not like I care about who you hang out with or—”

Your patience wears thin. “Cut the crap Idia. Just tell me if you’re upset or not,” 

“Y-yeah, I am… I guess,” his words are soft and almost missed but you heard it.

With every dorm, it felt like your whole world shattered and collapsed onto you. So far, only Rook seemed to be the only one that might’ve accepted it, while the rest were more… in disbelief.

Lastly, Diasomnia seemed to be the most daunting one to overcome. Despite your fear of Malleus being relatively low, you’re kinda risking Atlas’s life. 

Jealousy does not suit them, but there’s still a nagging question in your mind that wonders if they’re actually looking out for you or trying to keep you for themselves.

The first one you spotted was Sebek, training casually in the yard, sweating buckets as he continuously struck the mannequin with his sword. 

“Hey,” you walked from behind, startling him.

“HUMAN!” He jumps back, spinning on his heel and ready to attack, but he’s quick to halt as soon as he notices it’s you. “WHAT DO YOU NEED, HUMAN?”

“You can stop screaming Sebek,” you glare at him with uninterested eyes. “Anyways, I really need to ask you something.”

“What is it?” He calms down.

“Do you think me and Atlas make a cute couple?” You ask.

“That human is untrustworthy!” He whisper-screams. “Do not be with him!”

“Oh geez, okay…” you hadn’t expected him to be so straight-forward but it’s Sebek so you should’ve known better.

“I think you can do better!” He states as a matter of fact.

“Like…?” You raise a brow.

He blushes. “LIKE— LIKE— MALLEUS!” He yells.

“Woah,” your mouth is left agape.

“I-I MEAN YOUR STANDARDS SHOULD BE MALLEUS!” Panic rises in his voice.

“Yep, I got it the first time,” you say. “I’m gonna go find Silver now,”

“OKAY,”

Honestly, you forgot how overstimulatingly loud Malleus’s biggest simp can be.

Silver was the next person you wanted to interview, despite the fact that he’s probably sound asleep somewhere.

He was, true to your word, asleep peacefully on the ground. Your footsteps are light as you tried to prevent him waking up, but he catches it anyway and starts to wake up.

“[Name]...” he groans.

“Silver?” You turn around, quick to rush over to him and kneel to his level. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, but what are you doing here?” he blinks awake.

“I wanted to ask what you think of me dating this guy… his name is Atlas and,” you pause.

“I know, and if it makes you happy, then I approve.” Silver says.

“Thanks Silver,” you pat him before walking away. 

He seemed… disingenuous? It plagued your mind for a good few seconds until the mischievous black-pink haired man decided to jumpscare you.

“LILIA!” you screamed.

“Hahaha! What’s up, [name]? Boy, do I miss your adorable, surprised face,” he’s smiling ear to ear. 

“I-I’m glad you missed me… especially since you’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper the last part.

“I haven’t, or maybe I have. Anyways, what are you here for?” He shoots the same question that everybody’s asked.

You explain. Again.

“Does he make you happy?” A more mature side of him comes out, showing the centuries of experience he has.

“He does,” your response does not warrant the most positive reaction from him.

“Be careful with who you hang out with, not everyone is worth your time,” he grins, pretending he didn’t say the most puzzling sentence in history.

Malleus wasn’t far away

“You seem happy with him,” hornton replies.

You press your lips into a thin line. “I am, but I won’t be if everyone objects,”

“I cannot lie that I wasn’t hoping it would be different,” Malleus states.

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head.

“I would’ve preferred if you chose someone else, child of man.” He elucidates.

Walking out of the final dorm, you let out an exhausted breath of air, not realising how suffocating the day had gone. Amongst the crunches of the leaves beneath you lies the sound of a notification from your phone.

[Atlas]: hey, i’m sorry but i think this is not gonna work out…

Yandere!Headless Biker is not a man of many words. Not like he can speak to begin with, but you get the feeling he would've been just as silent and stoic with a working mouth. You guessed his intentions from the way he touched you: with a peculiar familiarity and affection, as if he was dealing with his most prized possession. His arm never leaves your side once you're off his bike. If he's not riding with you in the back, he'll hold you in his lap and trace every curve and every corner, committing them to memory.

Yandere!Headless Biker is just as stubborn as he is violent. Once he decides something, it becomes the law. "I'm sorry, do you think we're dating," you had asked once after a particularly intense fondling session. You found your answer soon enough when one of your coworkers offered to walk you home. It was late and he wanted you to be safe, most likely not anticipating that he would be the one struck down by your haunting suitor. Despite your pleas and terrified shouts, he didn't stop swinging the metal pipe until your poor colleague was an unrecognizable mess of broken bone and exposed flesh. His fingers then clawed around your throat, pressing you against the wall of your building. He couldn't talk, of course, but you felt it deeply within your soul. The words formed in your mind, mixing with the sounds of your desperate gasps for air: you belong to me. You nodded in agony until he finally released you from the unforgiving grip.

Yandere!Headless Biker has never treated you harshly ever since that incident. It was a lamentable lesson that needed to be taught - as much as it pained him to see you in those circumstances. It's other people that have to suffer, not you. You've no fault in it, especially now that you understand your place.

Yandere!Headless Biker doesn't really bring up his ghostly predicament. You have occasionally questioned him about his decapitated state, though he's indifferent to your curiosity. You suspect he lost a fight and has been holding a grudge ever since, and whenever you bring up your theory, he angrily ruffles your hair. Perhaps you're on the right track. While it may have been originally true, he has other reasons to stick around today. You. He'd crawl his way out of the depths of Hell just to be with you. You're all his, now and in whatever afterlife might follow.

Yandere!Headless Biker is one angry man. His jealousy knows no bounds, and you've learned to avert your gaze from anyone who could fall victim to his wrath. Except those who could use a little disciplinary ruffle, of course, such as the officer who so enthusiastically declined to deal with your complaints. You almost felt bad when you saw him pathetically begging on the ground, but you had warned him about a gang member on the loose.

"Someone needs head," you remarked humorously as you gawked at the bloodied knuckles of your undead boyfriend.

Why, yes, that is certainly one way to release frustrations. The tall delinquent turns to you expectantly.

The first time you noticed him was outside the building.

He was surrounded by a crowd, laughing effortlessly while people practically leaned toward him.

You walked past with your headphones on.

Didn’t even glance twice.

…

The second time…

He was casually walking around.

Again, surrounded.

Again, smiling.

You walked past without looking.

…

The third.

The cafeteria.

Fourth.

The train station.

Fifth.

The convenience store two neighborhoods away.

Sixth.

A cafe you only visited once every few months.

“…”

That one made you pause.

Strange.

What were the chances?

You shrugged it off.

He was popular.

Maybe he just…went everywhere.

𓂃۶ৎ

Weeks passed.

Then months.

Everywhere.

Always.

Like he was a recurring background character in your life.

You’d catch a glimpse of blond hair in the distance.

Turn a corner.

There he was.

Walking across campus.

Buying coffee.

Standing on the opposite side of the road.

Waiting for a train.

Always nearby.

Never approaching.

Never speaking.

Never even acknowledging your existence.

It became almost comforting.

Until…

One rainy afternoon.

You forgot your jacket.

Great.

You sighed and tucked your bag over your head before jogging across campus.

The rain blurred your vision.

Students scattered in every direction.

Then—

You bumped into someone.

“Oh—sorry!”

You stepped back.

“…”

Blue-gray eyes met yours.

For the first time…

He looked directly at you.

His expression froze.

The smile he always wore…

Vanished.

The noisy crowd behind him seemed to disappear.

Everything became silent.

His pupils widened just slightly.

As though…

He had found something.

“…”

“…”

You awkwardly bowed.

“Sorry.”

Then hurried away.

You didn’t notice…

He never took his eyes off your back.

“…”

“So that’s what your voice sounds like.”

He whispered to himself.

The corner of his lips curled upward.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

“I was beginning to think I’d imagined it.”

𓂃۶ৎ

The next day…

Nothing changed.

Except…

He was always looking.

You felt it before you saw it.

Across the courtyard.

From another classroom.

Second floor.

Behind the library windows.

Whenever you instinctively glanced around…

His eyes were already there.

Watching.

Not smiling.

Just…

Watching.

𓂃۶ৎ

Your friend nudged you.

“…Do you know him?”

“Hm?”

“The popular guy.”

You looked over.

He was already looking away.

“No.”

“…”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

Your friend frowned.

“That’s weird.”

“What is?”

“I swear he’s been staring at you all week.”

You laughed.

“Impossible.”

“He doesn’t even know my name.”

𓂃۶ৎ

Meanwhile.

On the rooftop.

He watched you through the gap in the fence.

“…”

“I know your name.”

His phone screen lit up.

Photos

4,872 images.

Folders neatly organized.

First Day.

Library.

Rain.

Favorite Hoodie.

Smiles.

Walking.

Buying milk.

Looking at cats.

Looking tired.

Looking lonely.

Another folder.

Locked.

Future.

He gently added today’s picture.

You laughing with your friend.

“So pretty.”

𓂃۶ৎ

That evening…

His bedroom looked ordinary.

Clean.

Minimalist.

Awards lined the shelves.

Perfect grades.

Perfect son.

Perfect student.

Inside the bottom drawer…

Hidden beneath folded clothes…

Was an entire notebook.

Every page.

About you.

𓂃۶ৎ

Usually leaves campus as soon as finished.

Wears headphones all the time if not with friends.

𓂃۶ৎ

Looks happier after playing with cat.

𓂃۶ৎ

Gets sick easily during winter.

Remember scarf.

𓂃۶ৎ

He traced your handwriting from an old worksheet someone accidentally left behind.

Smiling.

“You’ll catch another cold soon.”

“I should prepare medicine.”

𓂃۶ৎ

The next morning…

You opened your bag to get ready to study.

“…?”

Inside sat a neatly wrapped scarf.

No note.

No sender.

Just…

Your favorite color.

“…Weird.”

𓂃۶ৎ

You asked around.

Nobody knew.

𓂃۶ৎ

The next week…

Your favorite drink appeared on your desk.

𓂃۶ৎ

A week later…

The novel you wanted.

Sold out everywhere.

Somehow sitting inside your bag.

𓂃۶ৎ

Then…

The stray cat you’d been feeding suddenly wore a new collar.

Exactly the one you had stared at online.

Without buying.

“…”

A cold feeling crept up your spine.

𓂃۶ৎ

You started taking different routes home.

He still appeared.

Different train.

Different street.

Different café.

Always.

Always.

Always.

𓂃۶ৎ

One afternoon you deliberately enter inside an empty classroom which was different from your usual lecture class.

“If someone’s following me…”

You waited.

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Silence.

You sighed.

“I really am imagining things.”

You stepped into the hallway.

“…”

“…”

He stood there.

As though he’d been waiting outside the entire time.

His expression remained calm.

Almost gentle.

“…Hello.”

The first word he had ever spoken to you.

Your stomach dropped.

“H-Hi…”

He smiled softly.

“I finally get to meet you.”

“…”

“What?”

He tilted his head.

“I’ve been waiting.”

“…”

“For three years.”

The hallway suddenly felt far too quiet.

You forced a laugh.

“We’ve…never talked.”

“I know.”

His smile deepened.

“But I know everything else.”

“…”

“…”

“…Everything?”

He stepped closer.

Not threatening.

Not hurried.

Simply inevitable.

“I know what makes you smile.”

Another step.

“I know what makes you cry.”

Another.

“I know when you skip breakfast.”

Your heartbeat thundered.

“When you’re lonely.”

“When you pretend you’re okay.”

“When your birthday is.”

“When your nightmares get bad.”

“…”

He reached out…

Not to grab you.

Only to gently brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His touch was unbelievably careful.

As if you were made of glass.

“You’ve looked at me hundreds of times.”

His voice was almost affectionate.

“But…”

A soft chuckle escaped him.

“You never actually saw me.”

His eyes held yours.

Warm.

Patient.

”˙ɓuıuuıɓǝq ǝɥʇ ǝɔuıs noʎ ǝpısǝq uǝǝq ǝʌ’I“

His smile returned.

The same dazzling smile everyone adored.

Only now…

You understood something no one else did.