It was late in the afternoon that the classroom door opened with the usual sudden, snappy swish. Gojo-sensei appeared in the doorway, a sports bag slung over his shoulder and his glasses pulled low to the tip of his nose.
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He stopped when he saw me.
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<> I said, crossing my arms with a smirk.
Gojo-sensei gestured obsessively with his hands.
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Silence.
We all stared at him.
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<< So... is this some kind of social visit? >> Panda asked.
Gojo-sensei nodded.
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--- The next day...----
It was just nine in the morning when we boarded the minibus that would take us to Kyoto. I settled in next to Maki, while Kaito—I don't know how, I don't know when—snagged the seat behind me.
<< So Rebe...>> he said, cockily, leaning forward a little: << Excited to meet your favorite future principal?>>
I turned and looked at him.
<< Let's just say I hope he doesn't ask any complicated questions before coffee.>>
Everyone laughed.
Except Toge.
He was sitting next to Panda, straight, with his hands crossed. His gaze serious. Every now and then his eyes would look up at me, then back at the window.
I felt it.
The look.
The knot.
Kaito talked and talked: about the courses, the missions, the perfect temperature of the green tea. And it was all polite, nothing wrong. But I wanted to move. To be where Toge was.
A little later, the scent of freshly roasted sushi wafted through the air like a caress. We'd found a place around a low table, on comfortable cushions, in perfect traditional style. I was sitting next to Toge, with Kaito to my left. In front of me was a tray of nigiri, tempura, and a bowl of miso soup.
I was hungry. I was also happy. But I felt... observed.
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He shrugged, almost resigned but with a smile.
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<< You know this place is famous for its flambé nigiri?>>
Kaito interrupted us, smiling.
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Toge looked down, and I saw him laugh. His shoulders relaxed slightly. His hand rested on the tatami, just inches from mine. I didn't touch it, but I came very close.
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Kaito said again, passing me a piece of flambéed sushi with raised chopsticks. I took it and smiled. Except that when I bit into it, a small splash of sauce remained on the corner of my lip.
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He reached out and touched the corner of my mouth with his thumb.
Everything stopped.
Toge looked up slowly. I saw him clench his fist under the table. He didn't say anything, but his eyes grew dull.
Then, during a speech from the sensei halfway through the meal, Kaito stretched and let his arm fall behind me, resting lightly on the back of my pillow. It was like the air was breaking.
Toge reacted, grabbed Kaito's arm quite violently, and with a sharp, controlled gesture, yanked him away.
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The tone was low, guttural.
Kaito's eyes widened.
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Toge stared at him. Unmoving.
I, caught between embarrassment and a racing heart, placed a hand on his leg.
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He turned slowly toward me. His gaze was intense, vulnerable, yet full of unspoken words.
He texted me over his phone:
"I'm sorry. I can't stand him. Too familiar."
---Shortly afterward... ---
The gate of the Kyoto Institute was large, made of dark wood with gold trim. The van stopped right in front, raising a small cloud of dust. We got out one at a time. I smoothed my hair with my fingers, caressing the soft fabric of my short cream-colored dress I'd chosen for the occasion. I was elegant, yet comfortable: I really wanted to make a good impression.
Gojo-sensei approached and patted me on the shoulder with his enormous hands.
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<
Everyone laughed, even Toge, who gave me an amused look and typed on her phone:
"The queen of sushi."
I smiled as I felt my heart beat a little faster.
Coming to Japan, I thought it would be a leap into the unknown. But in that moment... it felt like things were really starting. For me.
The door opened.
A tall, elegant man greeted us, with narrow, razor-sharp eyes and long gray hair tied in a perfect knot. He wore a long, dark blue robe and carried a strange aura: that of someone who makes decisions.
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<
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Gojo-sensei stepped forward, whispering in the principal's ear, but making sure everyone could hear him:
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I smiled.
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A couple of boys standing behind the principal laughed: three new faces. One more serious, one with a wider smile, and another girl with a searching look. They looked at me curiously. I looked back.
The principal then continued:
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Just then, we heard sneakers running toward us.
A very blonde girl, with hair so long it touched her thighs, appeared from a side path, as if out of an action movie. Her pale skin almost seemed to glow in the light, her blue eyes fixed on us.
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She ran toward him, throwing herself around his neck in a hug that left little room for interpretation. I froze.
Toge seemed to stiffen for a second, then hugged her back, calmly, giving her a little kiss on the cheek. It all felt so... natural. For them.
My jaw, on the other hand, was a little clenched.
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The blonde girl said, turning to me, her smile dazzling, her eyes seemingly studying every detail of me.
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She shook my hand with a firm, energetic grip.
Gojo-sensei stepped in, his hands in his pockets.
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Saya flashed me a hostess smile and motioned for me to follow her.
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Toge took a step forward as if to say something... but stopped. I walked behind her, new questions swirling in my chest. I'd never thought I'd be jealous. Not so soon.
But Saya... she had that way of wrapping the air around her, of speaking with confidence and possession, that gave me the feeling she was... hiding something. I didn't like it.
Not one bit.
--- The Kyoto Garden...----
The afternoon sun filtered through the blossoming cherry tree branches, tracing patterns of light on the stone floor. We walked slowly, our eyes filled with wonder. Saya, the blonde girl, led me with a casual pace, telling funny stories about the institute:
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She laughed heartily, but I didn't. Inside, I felt a slight pang of jealousy every time she cast complacent glances toward the place where Toge had disappeared. Then, she showed me the tea room: tatami floors, measured gestures, kazari (small decorations) flourishing on the panels. She bowed gracefully to me:
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<>, I said enthusiastically. My cheeks warmed, something inside loosened, but not completely.
Next, we arrived at a quiet garden, with hanging lanterns and a floor of beaten gravel:
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My stomach lurched. I turned, hoping to see Toge in the shadows. But he wasn't there. They had taken him away earlier, for reasons they didn't explain to me.
Shortly afterward, Saya cheerfully showed me a serene detour:
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She smiled calmly.
We then moved into a larger room. The same group of students who were behind the principal looked at me with curiosity, but also sympathy. She pointed to them:
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<
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Saya glared at me. Then, raising her voice a little, she continued:
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I nodded, only giving a small bow.
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<>
Laughter. I replied.
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Her eyes lit up.
Saya laughed, shaking her head.
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I felt a shiver run down my spine. I was distracted at the time. As the group moved under the cherry trees, Saya paused briefly and turned to me. Her smile suddenly became serious.
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The silence fell.
My eyes widened.
She nodded sincerely.
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I was petrified for a second. Only then did I understand: all that familiarity, that affectionate tone...it made sense.
Saya added, almost shyly:
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I blushed with embarrassment and replied softly:
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She smiled, relieved.
<< Then show up early tomorrow, okay? I'll get the tea room ready for you, and I'll welcome you right in. >>
With a smile, I thanked her as the sun set on the pink petals. At that moment, I realized things were starting to get...really exciting.
---- In the quiet of my heart... ---
The room was immersed in the profound silence of the institute, and time seemed to have stopped between the pristine sheets and the faint scent of paper, wood, and tea that still lingered in the air. We had eaten dinner early that evening, all exhausted from the busy day. The lights of the institute itself had already gone out in most of the dormitory.
I turned over in bed for the umpteenth time, clutching my phone, slowly scrolling through the photos I'd taken in Kyoto, the new faces, the shared moments, the messages I'd exchanged with my parents throughout the day... but everything brought me back there: to Toge. I knew sleep wouldn't come anytime soon.
Not that night.
Not with those thoughts.
He was there, everywhere. In my mind, in my chest, on my skin. I could still feel the pressure of his fingers on my shoulder during training. The intensity of his gaze that pierced me without the need for words. His hands, so delicate yet so strong, the way he held me without hurting me.
The perfect balance of power and gentleness.
I rolled onto my back, letting the sheet slide a little lower, exposing my legs. The cool air on my bare skin made me shiver. I half-closed my eyes.
In the darkness, my heart pounding softly and my mind filled with him, my fingers slid slowly over my abdomen. A barely perceptible caress. An instinctive exploration, as if searching for the exact place where desire began. I thought of him.
The way he'd looked at me that evening during dinner, when I approached him that day and traced the line of his tattoo with my finger. He'd swallowed hard, his eyes wide and attentive, filled with a hunger he tried to hide.
A whisper left my lips, his name barely hinted at.
My fingers continued to move, more confident now, guided by images that made me shiver.
I imagined his hands in my hair, the warmth of his breath on my neck. His body moving slowly against mine. Every detail was vivid in my mind: his chest, his muscles under his black shirt, the tension of his arms as he lifted me. I remembered the sensation of his voice whispering against my ear, even without words.
I felt my skin tingle beneath my fingers, still, my thighs tightening slightly, my breathing becoming shallower. A shiver ran down my spine. It was as if his body were there, as if his hands were guiding my movements, as if he were watching me with those bright, curious, attentive eyes of his.
My lips closed in a sigh. The tension grew like a tide, slow but unstoppable. And then, it was like a silent explosion: pleasure overwhelmed me in warm, continuous waves, leaving me breathless, my heart pounding wildly beneath the palm of my hand. I remained like that, my body still tense, my cheeks flushed, a tired, sweet smile curling my lips. I had felt pleasure thinking about him. Not just physically, but emotionally too.
A need that started in my chest and spread everywhere.
I turned onto my side, clutching the pillow, letting the echoes of that moment lull me to sleep.
I wondered if he had ever made love to me...in his heart, at least.
And that was all.
That night.