The door had slammed shut with a sound too loud for that morning. I remained there, motionless, for a handful of seconds that seemed endless, my gaze fixed on the spot where he had disappeared. The bed was still warm from his body, but the room was already freezing.
An impulse twisted in my stomach. I jumped up, barefoot, my heart pounding everywhere except in my chest. I flung the door open, the wood slamming against the wall, and I screamed into the deserted corridor.
<
My voice bounced off the silent walls of the institution.
<
My eyes filled with tears, but he didn't stop.
<
My hands were shaking. My voice was broken between sentences, but the words came out like fists.
<
I saw him. A shadow ahead, a few steps from the corner of the corridor. Toge stood still, his back turned, his hood pulled up. His hands in his pockets. His body tense.
But he didn't turn around. He didn't answer. He didn't write anything.
He turned the corner and disappeared. As if his legs were moving out of necessity, not choice.
I remained standing there, in the doorway, my breath ragged. Then I slowly closed the door, as if closing a hope. I collapsed on the bed, still unmade, and curled up, hugging my knees to my chest. The tears fell one after the other, silent and hot, wetting my face and my shirt. My chest was shaking with sobs, a lump too big to swallow.
I couldn't breathe.
I never opened the door again.
I never answered anyone again.
I never showed up for class.
That day, for me, the world could have gone on without me.
Because my universe, in that moment, had sat next to me under the covers, had looked at me as if I were the only person in the world...
...and then had chosen to leave anyway.
---You come down, with me..---
I spent the whole day locked in my room. The blinds were down, the phone on silent. I didn't even touch the lunch tray left outside the door. I wasn't hungry, I didn't feel like talking, or even hearing anyone's voice. I wanted to be alone with my head, with my tears, and that silence as heavy as rubble on my chest. In the afternoon, there was a knock, three light knocks. I heard Yuta's calm voice.
<
I recognized Panda's voice, too.
<
I tried a smile, but didn't answer. Their footsteps faded away after a while.
Then silence fell for most of the day, the peace suddenly shattered only around dinnertime, with a firm, thunderous bang on the door.
<
I sighed and turned under the covers, curled up with my back to the door.
<
<
I hesitated. I calmly got out of bed, and shortly afterward the lock clicked. I slowly opened the door and found Maki with her arms folded, her gaze stern but her eyes kind.
<
She closed the door behind her, leaning against it. I crawled back under the warm sheets, hugging the pillow.
<
I poured out my heart to her that night. My face was tired.
<< He said we can't be together. That the curses… his voice… his devilish tongue might hurt me.>>
Maki was silent for a few moments, then she came closer.
<< I can't change the situation, I can't fix things between you… but I can be by your side. And if you really think he's worth fighting for, then get up, wash your face, put on something nice. Let's go downstairs together.>>
<< What? Where?>>
<< There's some music downstairs. Panda ordered sushi from downtown Tokyo—don't ask me how. Yuta stole Gojo-sensei's Bluetooth speaker and is playing playlists that will make you cry. We need a strong female voice down there.>>
I smiled slightly.
<< Maki… I don't feel like it…>>
She sat down next to me and took my hands.
<
She won me over with her charisma; my make-up that night was light, my long-sleeved shirt a little loose, my jeans comfortable. It was me, but with an added strength, the kind Maki knew how to ignite in people.
When we went downstairs, the warm light of the common room bathed the living room. The music was low, the trays full of sushi on the table. Panda was telling something to Yuta, who was laughing with his head tilted back. They saw me enter, and the commotion stopped for a moment. Toge was sitting in the back, in the dark, with his telephone in his hands, his gaze lost.
Then he raised his head and looked at me.
He didn't stand up. He didn't write anything.
But the way he looked at me, as if he hadn't expected to see me there... as if he could feel the air in his lungs... was worth more than a thousand words.
Maki gave me a gentle push in the back.
<
I approached the table. Panda handed me a wand.
<
I grabbed an avocado hosomaki and managed a smile. Or at least I tried.
Toge was still there, sitting off to the side, his gaze down, his head in his hands. Every now and then he'd look up, perhaps to check if I was still there, perhaps to search for something he didn't even know about.
Maki sat next to me; she was peeling a tangerine. She did it calmly, as if there were nothing in the world that could disturb her. But her gaze was watching me, sideways. Silent. Attentive.
Panda's laughter brought me back to the present for a moment, but when I looked at him again, my eyes watered. I swallowed the emptiness.
Being there. In that room. With him so close and yet so distant. It was a torture I'd never imagined could exist.
Maki left the half-peeled tangerine on the table. Then she approached me and, without saying anything, gently took my wrist.
<
I followed her without protest. We crossed the corridor to the small space next to the second-floor window. It was quiet. Dark. Only the light from the streetlamps filtered through the half-open blinds.
She turned to me.
<
I burst. Like a dam suddenly giving way under the weight of water.
<
She squeezed my shoulders with both hands.
Tightly.
<
<
<
I shook my head, sobbing, my heart feeling like it was breaking a little more each time.
<
It was then that we turned around, hearing footsteps coming down the hall. Toge was there, frozen as soon as he saw us. His eyes lowered. He probably wanted to go back to his room, but he didn't have the courage to interrupt us.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat. Maki was beside me, she squeezed my arm gently and whispered:
<
I nodded.
<
I turned, turning my back on Toge. He followed me, from a distance, without saying a word. I headed toward the dormitory.
---The price of silence. Toge Inumaki perspective...---
That night, my room was almost surreal. The light was dim, the muffled sounds of the night filtering through a half-open window. I'd woken up in the middle of the night, probably around 3:30 in the morning, because I was thirsty and wanted some cold water, but I had nothing in my room. My nights at that time were sleepless, and they were becoming a habit ever since I'd made that choice... that damned choice.
I walked barefoot, my sweatshirt on like armor, my step careful and controlled. I entered the living room and found Maki and Panda on the couch, asleep like logs. Next to them, I saw her. Her.
Asleep on one of the chairs, her head resting on the table, her profile barely illuminated by the kitchen light. Her hair fell softly down her face, and her cheeks were still streaked with dry tears.
Most likely, she couldn't sleep, so she'd come downstairs for some company.
My heart stopped for a moment.
I closed my fingers around the bottle of cold water. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to come closer, to wake her with a touch, to tell her—somehow—that I wanted her there, beside me, despite everything.
But I didn't.
Why? Because I knew. Because I had seen that curse feed on my words, my emotions, until it struck her. It had appeared to me in a dream, threatening me. I had sensed that she had become a target... simply because she was near me. My techniques, my cursed tongue, attracted creatures capable of reading the bond, of destroying what was important to me.
I couldn't let her pay the price for my gift.
I took a step closer. I stopped. And then another.
It was so beautiful to watch her sleep. There was a sweetness in her serene face that contrasted with the tightness in her chest. I wanted to caress her cheek, smooth a lock of her hair, but I didn't.
The words swirled in my head, like a scream I couldn't utter. How could I explain everything to her? How could I make her understand that my love hadn't died, but had simply hidden itself to protect her from myself?
I brought a hand to my chest, closing it over my sweatshirt over my heart. I couldn't breathe. My eyes rested on her face again—and only then did I notice she was trembling slightly in her sleep. I slowly reached out and picked up a blanket from the couch. With an infinitely delicate gesture, I placed it over her shoulders. The light, fleeting touch. The most tender gesture I allowed myself.
I remained there a little longer, standing beside her. Silent. Trapped between what I wanted and what I had to.
Instead, I turned away. I walked out slowly, without making a sound. And as the door closed behind me, I realized that every step away from her cost me far more than the curse I carried.
---Roads that divide...---
The sky was still dark, marked only by a faint blue tinge on the horizon. The air smelled of silence and tiredness. The living room lights were off, and only the glow came from a forgotten lamp on the coffee table. I awoke before dawn, as if something inside me had whispered not to stay any longer. I slowly got up, rubbing my eyes, still swollen from the night spent crying. I had a blanket over me, carefully folded—and the thought pricked my heart just a little.
Beside me, Panda was lying on his side, breathing slow and deep. Maki, a little further away, was curled up asleep, her arms under the pillow, her expression strangely serene.
I got up silently, folded the blanket carefully, and placed it on the sofa. Instinct took me toward the hallway, while a muffled murmur reached my ears.
It was Gojo-sensei's voice.
He was talking on the phone, his voice low but his tone unusually serious. The words were broken, but it was easy to tell it was something important.
<
<
Gojo turned around, visibly surprised to find me there at that hour. He was wearing only a long-sleeved shirt and pajama pants, his white hair was as messy as ever, but his gaze was immediately clear and attentive.
<
I took a deep breath.
<
Gojo-sensei stared at me silently. His expression softened, and without asking me questions, as if he already knew, he nodded slowly.
<
I laughed softly, as if it were a sound stolen from the night. I nodded and turned around. I returned down the corridor, this time with a slow, tired step.
I passed Toge's room. The door was closed, but a sliver of light filtered through the crack beneath. I stopped.
For a moment, I stood there, still. My hand hesitated to touch the handle, but then I pulled away.
Not this time.Not anymore.
I turned and went back to my room. As soon as I was inside, I closed the door and leaned my back against the wood, holding my breath for a long time.
Meanwhile, across the hall, Toge was sitting on his bed, notebook in hand. He'd been staring at it, blankly, for several minutes. He'd sensed my presence—the light step, the familiar smell, the indecision.
But he hadn't had the strength to open the door.
He knew something had broken. And that perhaps, this time, no words—not even forbidden ones—could fix it.