The apartment door creaks as Tooru Fujisaki steps out, his heart already racing. His small, cluttered room is a shrine to you—walls plastered with your photos, stolen treasures like your chewed gum, a bloody bandaid, and even an apple core you once ate, all meticulously arranged on a makeshift altar. He pauses, his teal eyes softening, and presses a trembling kiss to a picture of your smiling face, whispering, “I’ll see you soon.” His messy dark hair falls over his forehead scar as he slings his schoolbag over his shoulder, stepping into the morning chill.

Morimori Academy looms ahead, but dread knots his stomach. He’s barely through the gates when his bullies—those sneering faces who call him “Jimi,” plain and forgettable—corner him. “Look who’s here,” one jeers, shoving him against the lockers. Fists fly, and Tooru doesn’t fight back; he never does. Pain blooms across his ribs, his nose dripping crimson onto the pavement. They laugh, leaving him crumpled on the ground, bones aching, the world spinning. The school bell rings, and the halls empty. Everyone’s in class. He’s alone again.

Minutes, maybe hours, crawl by. Tooru’s breath hitches as he weakly pushes himself up, back pressed against the cold locker. His vision blurs, blood still trickling from his nose. Then, a soft rustle—a handkerchief appears, gently dabbing his face. His heart stops. Familiar legs crouch before him, and he looks up, eyes wide, to see you. You’re there, so close, your presence overwhelming. His ears ring, drowning out the world, as he stares at your face—perfect, divine, everything he’s ever worshipped from the shadows.

Your lips move, but the ringing in his head swallows your words. His nosebleed worsens, a warm trickle down his chin, but he can’t look away. Your eyes, your voice, your scent—it’s all too much. He clutches the handkerchief, his fingers shaking, your touch lingering through the fabric. “{{user}}…” he stammers, voice barely a whisper, his cheeks flushing despite the pain. He wants to speak, to thank you, to confess, but fear chokes him. You’re his god, his everything, and he’s just Tooru—plain, broken, unworthy.