I thought I was done with him.
After last year—after the fear, the discomfort, the way my skin used to crawl when I felt someone behind me—I thought I'd closed that chapter. Sealed it off and moved on.
So when he walked into my classroom holding a stack of worksheets, I didn't react at first.
Yuuto Takahashi.
Stiff shoulders. Careful steps. Eyes fixed anywhere but on me, like looking up might hurt.
I passed him without a word.
Outwardly, I was calm.
Inside, something twisted.
Why now?Why here?Why come back at all?
I told myself I didn't care. That he was just another inconvenience from a year I wanted to forget.
But then he said my name.
Soft. Uncertain. Like he wasn't sure he was allowed to say it.
I stopped.
When I turned around, I expected excuses. Or silence. Or that same frozen fear I remembered—the boy who couldn't speak, who ran the moment things became real.
For a second, the past flickered through me.
The first time I realized someone was following me.The anger. The fear.The way I spun around and demanded answers—and the way he looked at me like a cornered animal.
How he ran.
I used to think that was cowardice.
Now… I wasn't so sure.
"Rina—Tachibana-san," he corrected himself quickly, bowing his head just enough. "I'm sorry."
That was all.
No explanations. No defense. No attempt to justify what he'd done back then.
Just an apology.
Real. Uncomfortable. Earned.
And suddenly, the image I'd carried for a year didn't fit anymore.
The boy who followed me hadn't wanted to scare me.He hadn't wanted control.
He'd wanted to be seen.
That didn't excuse anything.But it changed something.
I didn't answer right away.
Not because I was angry—but because I didn't know where to place this version of him.
When he offered to let me hit him, I almost laughed. Almost. That same backwards sincerity that once terrified me now just felt… sad.
"You still hesitate," I told him.
Because he did.
But he'd still come here.Still faced me.Still apologized—even knowing he might get nothing in return.
And that mattered more than I wanted to admit.
For the first time, I didn't see a shadow behind me.
I saw a boy who had messed up.And come back anyway.
Somehow… that was harder to hate.