The hallway stretched endless as Toru stormed down it, his shoes thudding dully against the wooden floor. His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in heavy pulls. He pressed both hands against his temples, gripping his head so tightly his knuckles whitened.
Images flashed behind his eyes, a reel of Hana's laughter, her voice, the way her glasses always slid down when she hugged him too hard. Memories felt like knives, rushing through him faster than he could control, cutting him open all over again.
He stopped, swaying once before his eyes darted to the side — the classroom he was supposed to be in. The muffled drone of a lesson carried faintly through the sliding door. His fingers hesitated on the handle before he ripped it open.
The entire room turned.
Ms. Endo's sharp voice sliced through the silence.
Ms Endo (stern, cold):
"Hey. You're late. Where is Shion?"
Toru froze in the doorway. His eyes unfocused. His chest heaved. And then—
⸻
Flashback, Chapter 2
The sound of piano keys filled the small practice room. Notes flowing, soft, steady, until a voice cut above them.
Hitomi (calling over the music, sharp):
"Toru! Your girlfriend is here!"
The melody faltered instantly. His hands stilled, shoulders slumping with reluctant weight. Slowly, he turned his head, and there she was. Hana.
Her eyes lit up when she saw him. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around him so suddenly his chair wobbled beneath him.
Toru (laughing nervously, easing her grip):
"You always hug me like this... it scares me."
Her laughter burst out, too loud, too bright. Her glasses slid down, clattering to the floor. She scrambled, cheeks flushed as she tried to fix them, embarrassed but still smiling.
Toru (softly, almost under his breath):
"...Hi, Hana."
⸻
End of flashback
The weight of it crushed him. Toru's breathing turned ragged as he staggered, gripping his head with both hands. His classmates whispered, their voices rising like a swarm of bees.
"Is he okay?"
"What's wrong with him?"
"Is he having a fit?"
Ms. Endo rushed toward him, her hands reaching out.
Ms Endo (alarmed, urgent):
"Toru! What's wrong? Are you alright—"
Before she could touch him, he suddenly grabbed a book from a desk and hurled it across the room. The slam echoed off the walls. Gasps erupted. He shoved Ms. Endo back with a force that startled even him, her gasp catching in her throat.
Without another word, Toru stormed out of the classroom, the sliding door rattling hard behind him.
⸻
Another Flashback – the remade past
Toru (softly, almost under his breath):
"...Hi, Hana."
But it wasn't Hana this time. It was Shion. She froze, the weight of his eyes unbearable. Her entire body twitched, the urge to leave clawing at her.
Shion (snapping, restless):
"Obviously he doesn't want me here. Look at him. I need to go back to the club— I don't even know how I got here!"
Her voice cracked at the end, the sound raw. She tried to shove past, but Toru shot up, the screech of the piano bench dragging across the floor. He caught her wrist, his grip firm but desperate.
Toru (genuinely startled, urgent):
"What do you mean I don't want you here?"
⸻
Back in the present
The sound tore from his throat before he could stop it.
Toru (screaming):
"Ahhh!"
He spun and punched the window in the hallway, glass rattling in its frame. Students gathered outside, pressed to the railings, whispering behind their hands.
"Did you see that?"
"He's losing it."
"Is he... crying?"
But Toru didn't stay. He pushed past them all, storming down the hall, out through the front doors. His chest heaved with every breath.
From another classroom, Tokami had stepped into the hall just in time to see Toru's fist crash against the glass. His eyes widened, his head whipping between the crowd and his friend.
"...Toru?"
Without a second thought, he bolted after him.
Outside, the late afternoon air bit against their skin. Toru finally stopped, his back rigid, his hands buried in his hair. Tokami skidded to a halt, catching his breath, confusion flashing in his wide eyes.
Toru turned slowly, his face unreadable at first — then twisting into impatience, his smirk gone, replaced with raw anger.
Toru (cold, snapping):
"What? WHAT!?"
Tokami jerked back a step, startled.
Tokami (gentle, careful):
"Hey... Toru... what's going—"
Toru's voice cracked like thunder, sharp and frantic.
Toru (snapping, in disbelief):
"You remember it, right?!"
Tokami blinked, his throat dry, words caught.
Tokami (confused, whispering):
"...What are you...?"
Toru's eyes widened, his breath ragged. He stepped forward, fists trembling.
Toru (shouting, furious):
"DO YOU REMEMBER THE PAST BOTH WAYS OR FUCKING NOT?! WHY IS IT JUST ME, HUH?!"
His voice echoed across the courtyard. Students inside pressed against the windows, staring wide-eyed at the scene unraveling.
From the front entrance, Shion stood frozen. Her eyes widened as she watched, her hand gripping the door frame. Her chest tightened.
Toru's head snapped up, catching her in his vision. For a split second, their eyes locked. His expression twisted — anger, recognition, betrayal all colliding at once.
Shion's breath hitched. She turned and jogged off, her hair whipping behind her.
Toru cursed under his breath, shoving Tokami roughly aside before bolting after her.
Tokami stumbled back, his voice cracking.
Tokami (calling out):
"Toru—!"
But Toru didn't turn back. His figure disappeared into the distance, chasing Shion, leaving Tokami staring after him, confusion burning in his eyes.
...
Shion crouched low in the darkness of the storage room, her knees drawn tight to her chest, her breath muffled against her sleeve. The air was thick with dust and the faint tang of bleach from old mop buckets. Every tiny creak of the building sounded like thunder to her ears.
Her pulse hammered, echoing through her chest. She bit down on her lip so hard she thought she might taste blood. If he finds me here... if he opens this door...
Outside, Toru's footsteps echoed down the hall — slow, steady, deliberate. Each step carried a weight that pressed heavier against her lungs. His shadow passed the paper-thin doors one by one, his figure moving like a predator stalking prey.
He stopped.
Her entire body stiffened. She didn't dare breathe.
From the thin crack of the doorframe, she could see the edge of his shoes, the hem of his uniform pants. He stood perfectly still, his hand hovering over the sliding door handle. His knuckles flexed once, veins tightening as though he was forcing himself to pause.
Toru (low, muttering under his breath):
"...Shion."
Her stomach dropped. He had said her name — not Hana. Not some slip. Shion.
Inside the closet, her nails dug crescents into her palms. Her chest rose and fell in quick, sharp bursts. She pressed herself further into the corner, wishing she could melt into the shadows.
The silence dragged on. The only sound was the faint buzz of the overhead lights and the far-off chatter of students still lingering in classrooms. The tension was unbearable, like the entire hallway was holding its breath with her.
His fingers finally touched the handle. The door rattled faintly as he slid it just a fraction, testing it. Shion's heart nearly stopped.
And then—
Jyuho's voice rang out, sharp, cutting through the moment like glass shattering.
Jyuho (complaining, mocking):
"Toru! Seriously? You're just gonna pretend you didn't see me?"
Toru's hand froze on the door. Slowly, with visible irritation, he let go of the handle and turned.
She strutted toward him, her heels clicking against the wooden floor, a pout fixed on her lips. She flipped her hair back with practiced annoyance, her cardigan slipping slightly off one shoulder.
Jyuho (loud, frustrated):
"I'm still mad, you know. Your sister shoved me out of your house like I was nothing yesterday. And you—" she jabbed a finger towards his chest"—you kissed me, Toru. You almost hooked up with me. And then what? You leave me hanging like I'm disposable?"
Toru's eyes didn't even flicker toward her. They stayed locked on the door behind him, his expression carved from stone.
Toru (flat, clipped):
"...Not now."
Jyuho's voice rose, indignant.
Jyuho (snapping):
"Not now? That's it? That's all you have to say to me?" She stepped closer, tugging at his sleeve. "You can't just act like I didn't happen. You can't just use me and throw me away."
Toru yanked his arm from her grip, his eyes finally cutting to her with the sharpness of a blade.
Toru (snapping, low, dangerous):
"Get out of my sight, Jyuho."
The venom in his tone made her flinch, but before she could argue further—
Principal (stern, commanding voice carrying down the corridor):
"Kanzaki Toru!"
The sound cracked like thunder across the hall. The principal's shoes clicked against the wood as he strode forward, two teachers trailing close behind. His face was thunderous, the lines around his mouth set deep with disapproval.
Principal (sharp):
"My office. Now. Smashing school property? Shoving a teacher? Do you think your name makes you untouchable?"
The hallway went dead quiet. Whispers swirled in the background like restless leaves, but Toru didn't move at first. His jaw flexed, his eyes flicking once more to the door he hadn't opened. His hand twitched at his side.
Finally, with a heavy exhale, he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away, following the principal down the hall without another word.
From the far corner, Tokami leaned against a pillar, his brows furrowed. His eyes had tracked everything — the almost-door, the interruption, the principal's arrival. Beside him, Arata adjusted her camera, the small red light glowing as she recorded.
Arata (snapping, too curious):
"Hey, aren't you the guy's friend? The one who just punched out the windows?"
Tokami's head snapped to her, his glare sharp enough to make her falter. He shoved the camera back, the lens shaking.
Tokami (low, irritated):
"Get that out of my face."
He turned sharply and stormed toward the very door Toru had been seconds away from opening. His heart pounded, his palms sweaty. He gripped the handle and slid it open in one motion.
Inside, Shion gasped softly, her body recoiling. She was crouched in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as though she could fold into nothing. Her eyes, wide and shining, locked with his. Fear, shame, and something deeper lingered there.
Tokami froze, breath caught in his throat.
The silence between them was deafening.
⸻
Toru sat slouched in the chair of the principal's office, his knuckles bruised, his lip cut from where he had bitten down too hard. The polished wood of the low table reflected his restless knee bouncing up and down.
The principal's voice roared across the small tatami-floored office.
Principal (furious, stern):
"Kanzaki! Explain yourself! What possessed you to act like that? Smashing windows? Shoving your teacher? What exactly is going through your head?"
But Toru didn't respond. His eyes stayed fixed on the window, jaw set tight, his mind spiraling in a place no one else could follow.
The principal's office was cramped and heavy with silence. Wooden shelves lined the walls, stacked with binders and old awards that collected dust. A faint smell of green tea lingered from a cold pot sitting near the window.
Toru sat slouched in the chair opposite the desk, his elbows resting against his knees. His knuckles were red and swollen, his jaw set tight. The broken glass he had left behind was still fresh in his mind, the sharp crack echoing in his ears.
Across from him, the principal leaned forward, both hands planted firmly on the desk. His glasses slid down his nose as his sharp eyes burned into Toru.
Principal (stern, cold):
"You've crossed a line today, Kanzaki. Smashing a window? Shoving your teacher? You think this is a playground? This is a school."
Toru didn't respond. His leg bounced, tapping against the tatami floor in steady rhythm.
Principal (pressing, louder):
"I don't know what's going on in your head, but this behavior—this violence—will not be tolerated. You're lucky Ms. Endo wasn't seriously hurt."
Still, Toru stayed quiet, his eyes drifting toward the window.
The principal sighed, adjusting his glasses. His tone softened but carried weight.
Principal (measured, stern):
"Your guardian will need to be contacted. We can't overlook this. Hitomi-san must be informed."
The sound of her name made Toru's head snap up. His eyes sharpened instantly.
Toru (quick, sharp):
"No. Don't call her."
The principal raised a brow, unimpressed.
Principal (flat, unimpressed):
"Excuse me?"
Toru leaned back in the chair, his arms crossing. His voice was calm, almost casual, but his eyes burned.
Toru (firm, cold):
"Call my big brother Maki instead."
The principal blinked, thrown for a moment before scoffing.
Principal (disbelieving):
"Maki? He isn't actually your family he isn't even in your folder. Kanzaki, this isn't a joke. Your mother is the one responsible for you, not some thug from the military who blast's music outside my school and throws cigarettes out the window."
Toru's jaw tightened. He leaned forward, his elbows hitting his knees again.
Toru (snapping, low):
"She doesn't need to hear about this. You'll call Maki. He'll handle it."
The principal straightened in his chair, his eyes narrowing.
Principal (stern, refusing):
"I don't take orders from students. Hitomi-san deserves to know what her son has done. That is school policy, Kanzaki."
Toru's eyes darkened. His leg stopped bouncing. For a long moment, silence filled the office, heavy and suffocating. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
Toru (low, muttering):
"You don't get it. She'll make it worse. She'll..." he stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek before finally snapping again, "Call Maki. I'm telling you—call him."
The principal tapped a pen against the desk, studying him.
Principal (pressing, suspicious):
"And why should I? Why should I call another delinquent boy instead of your mother? Give me one reason, Kanzaki."
Toru smirked faintly, but there was no humor in it. He leaned closer, his eyes locking with the principal's.
Toru (cool, persuasive):
"Because if you call Maki, this ends here. Quiet. The window gets fixed, the damages get paid. You get no more trouble from me. If you call her..." he pauses for a second "you'll be cleaning up more than broken glass."
The principal's brows rose, his pen pausing mid-tap. The weight of Toru's words lingered between them.
Silence.
Finally, the principal sighed, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, clearly debating.
Principal (reluctant, grumbling):
"You boys think you can run this school like it's your own. Unbelievable..." he slid the drawer open before sighing and taking out a folder. "Fine. Maki then."
Toru's shoulders loosened slightly, though his face remained impassive.
Principal (cold, firm):
"But listen carefully. The damages will be paid for. Every yen. That window, the labor, and anything else. If it isn't handled, I will be calling your mother. And there won't be any convincing me otherwise."
He began dialing, the numbers clicking loudly in the silence.
Toru leaned back again, his lips curving faintly into a smug, tired smirk.
Toru (quiet, almost to himself):
"...Good choice."
The phone rang, shrill in the stillness of the office. The principal leaned back in his chair, one brow arched at Toru before lifting the receiver.
Click.
Maki (irritated, rough):
"...Who is this? Do you know what time it is?"
Principal (clearing his throat, professional):
"This is Principal Yamamoto from Seika High. I'm calling regarding Kanzaki Toru."
There was a pause. Then, a low scoff on the other end.
Maki (flat, annoyed):
"Tch. Of course you are. What'd he do this time?"
Principal (cold, sharp):
"He smashed a classroom window with his fist. Then he shoved a teacher when confronted. This is a serious matter. He needs someone to take responsibility."
Maki (snapping, angry):
"You've gotta be kidding me. He—what the hell is wrong with that idiot? Do you people just let him run wild?"
The principal glanced up, unimpressed, his eyes flicking toward Toru.
Principal (firm):
"This is your problem, Kanzaki. He insisted I call you instead of his mother."
There was a sharp intake of breath from Maki. His voice hardened.
Maki (snapping, furious):
"What? He made you call me? No. No way. I'm not paying for this. Call his damn mom. I've covered for him enough."
The principal opened his mouth, ready to agree, but Toru moved fast. His chair scraped across the tatami as he lunged forward, grabbing the receiver.
Toru (low, urgent, voice sharp):
"Maki. Shut up and listen."
Principal (stern, warning):
"Kanzaki—"
Toru held up a hand, his eyes still locked on the principal, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper into the receiver.
Toru (quiet, muttering fast):
"Don't screw this up. If he calls Hitomi, it's over. You know how she gets. Just say you'll cover it. Just this once."
Maki (furious whisper):
"...Do you think I'm made of money? Why the hell should I pay for your shit, Toru? You've lost your damn mind."
Toru pressed a hand to his temple, his voice steady but quiet, every word cutting.
Toru (low, persuasive):
"You owe me. Remember last year. Don't forget it. Pay it. Handle it. Then I'll owe you."
There was silence on the line. The principal leaned forward, straining to hear, suspicion etched in the furrow of his brows.
Maki (gritting his teeth, muttering):
"...Tch. You're unbelievable."
Toru smirked faintly, covering the receiver with his palm for a second as if to block the principal's view of his lips.
Toru (soft, pressing):
"Say it, Maki. Say you'll handle it."
Finally, Maki sighed, the sound harsh, defeated.
Maki (reluctant, louder, directed at the principal):
"...Fine. I'll cover it. Send me the bill for the window."
The principal straightened, blinking in surprise at the sudden shift.
Principal (dry, skeptical):
"You'll... pay for the damages?"
Maki (serious, clipped):
"Yes. I said I'll pay. And I'll be there in twenty minutes to pick him up."
Principal (raising a brow):
"Pick him up? You're not his guardian."
Maki (flat, firm):
"I'm his older brother. Former military. If he's suspended, he comes with me. Don't bother calling Hitomi-san. She doesn't need to waste her time with this."
The principal tapped his pen against the desk, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Principal (stern, reluctant):
"...Very well. But this is the last time. Kanzaki Toru is suspended for three days. The damages will be billed immediately. If they are not paid, I will contact his mother directly. Do you understand?"
Toru leaned back in his chair, still holding the receiver, his smirk tugging faintly at the corner of his lips.
Toru (flat, casual):
"...Yeah. I understand."
Maki (low, irritated, before hanging up):
"You'd better be waiting at the front gate, Toru. Don't make me regret this."
Click.
The line went dead.
The principal exhaled slowly, setting his pen down. His sharp eyes fixed on Toru once more, his voice like steel.
Principal (cold, final):
"You're very lucky to have someone willing to clean up your mess. But don't mistake this for freedom, Kanzaki. Three days. You step out of line again, I call your mother. Directly."
Toru didn't reply. He just shoved his hands into his pockets, slouched further in his chair, and let a faint smirk linger on his lips like he had won something.
_____
The door slid open with a sharp rasp.
Tokami stood there, his hand still on the handle, eyes narrowing when they landed on the girl inside. Shion — the same girl who had slapped Toru just two days ago, the same girl he'd been itching to tear into if he ever got the chance.
This was it. His moment.
But the words caught in his throat the instant he saw her face.
She wasn't smirking. She wasn't standing tall, ready to bark back like she had before. She was crouched in the corner of the storage room, her arms wrapped tight around herself. Her eyes were red, wet, glistening with tears that rolled down unchecked.
Tokami froze. His chest tightened, something unfamiliar tugging at him. He forced his jaw to set hard, his voice low, rough.
Tokami (keeping his tough act, cold):
"...Why the hell are you crying?"
Shion looked up at him, lips trembling, her breath shaky. For a second, she said nothing — just stared, like she didn't trust him. Then her voice cracked.
Shion (sniffling, soft, urgent):
"Toru... he... he asked me who I was. I told him I was Hana's friend. And he... he remembered. He remembered Hana saying my name."
Tokami's face drained of color. His eyes widened, his entire body stiffening as if her words had punched the air out of his lungs. He blinked, once, twice, unable to mask the shock that spread across his face.
It was the first time Shion had ever seen Tokami falter. His tough, unshakable expression shattered in an instant. His eyes darted, searching her face as if trying to find a lie in her words — but her tears were too raw, too real.
Tokami (hoarse, whispering):
"You're... Hana's.. friend..?"
Shion nodded, her hands gripping her sleeves tighter, her whole body trembling.
Tokami leaned back against the frame of the door, dragging a hand over his face. His breaths were sharp, uneven.
Tokami (low, shaken, muttering):
"...Shit."
He stayed there a moment before finally stepping inside, sliding the door shut behind him. He crouched in front of her, still trying to keep his voice steady, still clinging to his tough act even as his shock bled through.
Tokami (quiet, heavy):
"...I shouldn't have said that stuff to you before. The fake face, the plastic surgery... I was pissed. I'm sorry."
Shion blinked, staring at him, her lips parting slightly.
Shion (firm, shaking her head):
"I didn't get surgery. I didn't change my face. This is just... me."
Tokami's brows furrowed, his eyes scanning her features. The line of her jaw, the curve of her eyes — they weren't Hana's, and yet...
Tokami (frowning, honestly confused):
"Then how? How are you... this pretty, if you didn't?"
The words slipped out without thinking. The moment he realized, his ears burned red. Shion's cheeks flushed instantly, heat rushing to her face. She scrambled up to her feet, flustered, brushing her hair behind her ears.
Shion (stammering):
"D-Don't say things like that..."
Tokami blinked, startled, then stood as well. His height towered over her in the cramped room, but he kept his voice low, searching for something to hold onto.
Tokami (pressing, careful):
"...How was your relationship with Hana?"
The question hit her chest like a stone. Shion's lips pressed tight. She avoided his eyes, her fingers twisting in the hem of her sleeve.
Shion (dodging, shaky):
"...How was yours?"
Tokami's breath hitched. He turned his gaze to the side, his jaw tight, but his voice softened.
Tokami (nostalgic, quiet, pained):
"Mine? ...It was simple. Pure. She was quiet — but me and Toru, we always pranked her. I'd pout, she'd laugh. She loved painting. She'd always paint Toru... over and over. It was obvious she had a crush on him."
He paused, his throat tightening. His voice dropped lower, almost breaking.
Tokami (confession, heavy):
"...But I liked her. I really did. And Toru... he didn't."
The words spilled like something he had buried for years, finally dragging itself to the surface.
Shion's eyes widened, her stomach twisting. Shock surged through her body, her heart pounding so loud she thought Tokami could hear it. Her hands gripped the sides of her skirt, trembling.
Her mind reeled — Hana loved Toru. Tokami loved Hana. And Toru... didn't love anyone back.
The truth crashed into her like a wave, leaving her breathless, her knees threatening to give out beneath her.
_____________________________________
End of chapter 14