You excused yourself from the table—just a minute, just the bathroom. Toji’s friends were still seated, drinks half-finished, laughter dying down into more serious tones You weren’t supposed to hear, but you did

“She looks just like her, don’t you think?”

“Maybe that’s why he’s so hooked”

"He’s just trying to relive something that’s gone”

Your steps froze before turning the corner back to the table. Toji didn’t laugh. Didn’t deny it quickly, either. A slow, deep breath from him. Then:

“She’s not a replacement. I don’t love her because she reminds me of my wife. I love her… because she's special"

His voice was low, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud

“She made me want something real again. Not a memory. Not a second chance. Something that was never mine before.”

When you return, your smile is shaky. Toji looks at you… and something in his eyes softens—like he knows. Like maybe, he said it hoping you'd hear it but on the other hand your mind told you the opposite