The rain was gentle at first — a steady whisper against the gothic glass windows of Nevermore's main hall. Students hurried through the corridors, some laughing, some cursing the weather.
Toji walked among them, silent. His gaze drifted outside for a moment, tracing the raindrops running down the stone gargoyles perched above the courtyard.
Then, something clicked in his memory.
This is the day.
He stopped mid-stride, the noise of the hallway fading behind him. The rain had begun to fall harder now, forming small rivers along the cobblestone path. And there — moving across the courtyard below — was Wednesday Addams, black umbrella in hand, expression unreadable as ever.
At the edge of his vision, he caught sight of Xavier heading out toward the same path, sketchbook tucked under his arm.
The pattern was too precise to be coincidence.
Toji's voice cut through the hallway:
"Yo, Xavier! Man, can you do me a small favor?"
The other boy turned, eyebrows raised. "Yo, Toji. What's up?"
"I think I left my notebook in class," Toji said smoothly, as if the thought had just struck him. "Mind grabbing it for me?"
Xavier blinked, half-confused. "Can't you get it yourself?"
Toji tilted his head slightly, giving that polite, practiced smile. "Can't. Already late for my next class. You'll save me a lecture from Thornhill."
Xavier exhaled through his nose, somewhere between amused and annoyed. "Fine, but you owe me one, man."
"Sure," Toji said, his tone light.
But the moment Xavier turned around and started walking back down the hall, Toji's expression flattened — the easy charm gone, replaced by something cold and exact.
He moved quickly through the hall, slipping past clusters of students and down the marble stairs. By the time he reached the courtyard doors, the rain had become a curtain.
Outside, Wednesday crossed beneath the tower's shadow, unaware of the faint creaking above.
The sound was small — stone shifting against rusted metal.
To anyone else, it was background noise.
To Toji, it was a countdown.
He stepped forward, unbothered by the rain soaking through his suit. The gargoyle's chain snapped with a sharp crack — the sound cutting through the downpour. The statue lurched forward, heavy, unstoppable.
Wednesday looked up — a flash of movement, confusion flickering across her pale face.
Then, in a blur, Toji was there. His hand gripped her shoulder, shoving her out of the way with precise strength. The gargoyle smashed into the cobblestone where she'd stood seconds ago, shards of stone and rain exploding outward.
He didn't even flinch.
Wednesday blinked, breathless, her usually sharp composure fractured for once.
Toji glanced down at her, calm as ever — rain sliding down his face, eyes unreadable.
"You should watch your step," he said quietly.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her kneeling on wet stone, the shattered gargoyle beside her.
Her eyes followed him — not with gratitude, but curiosity.
Cold. Precise. Familiar.
Something about that emptiness felt almost like a mirror.
Rain hammered down, washing the courtyard clean of dust and blood. The shattered gargoyle lay in pieces, fragments scattered like glass. Wednesday stood motionless, black braids dripping, her gaze fixed on Toji's retreating figure.
"Toji," she called, her voice flat but cutting through the rain like a blade.
He stopped, head tilting slightly but not turning around.
"Why did you save me?" she asked, tone cool but edged with something unreadable. "Do you think yourself a hero, rescuing a damsel in distress? Or do you simply enjoy meddling in near-death experiences?"
Toji's hand paused at his side. For a moment, the only sound was thunder echoing in the distance. Then he looked back at her, that calm, almost careless smile on his lips.
"Can't let my wife die on me now, can I?"
The words hit harder than the rain. Wednesday blinked, momentarily thrown off. Her expression didn't change much, but there was a flicker — confusion, maybe disbelief.
"My… what?" she said, the slightest crack in her usual composure.
Toji just waved a hand lazily. "Ask your grandmother."
He turned again, footsteps echoing against wet stone.
Wednesday stood there, her mind whirring. Wife? Impossible. And yet—
She remembered the night before she left for Nevermore. Her mother, Morticia, brushing her hair with that same infuriating calm.
"You know, darling," Morticia had said, "your husband-to-be is enrolled at Nevermore as well. Fate has a sense of humor."
Wednesday had glared into the mirror. "I will not be a housewife, Mother. I will not attend luncheons, bear children, or entertain dinner guests. Marriage is a cage disguised as devotion."
Morticia had only smiled. "So you've said, my little raven. But some cages are lined with obsidian instead of gold."
Back in the present, Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she watched Toji disappear into the hallway. Rain still poured, but her curiosity burned colder than the storm.
"Toji!" she called again.
He didn't stop this time — didn't even look back.
"I'll tell you what I told my parents," she said, her voice carrying through the thunder. "I belong to no one. And no one will ever call me theirs."
Toji gave a small, amused scoff under his breath — almost inaudible — and vanished down the hall.
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Drop some power stone
Don't worry duel with bianca is comming