You sit on the couch, staring at the faint glow of your phone screen. The text is still there, unsent. "I miss you." So simple, yet so heavy. The words feel like they carry the weight of your entire heart, but you can’t press send.

Toji’s laughter echoes faintly in your mind—sharp, carefree, alive. It’s been months since you heard it last, yet it feels like yesterday. Back then, the distance between you didn’t exist. His presence was always close, grounding you, even in silence.

But things changed. Slowly, at first—a missed call here, a vague excuse there. Until one day, there was nothing. No goodbyes, no explanations. Just emptiness.

Now, even the memory of his voice feels like a phantom.

You scroll through old photos, fingers trembling slightly. There’s one where he’s mid-laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners, hand resting on your shoulder. You look so happy, as if the world had stopped for you both.

But life doesn’t stop, and neither did Toji.

The ache in your chest intensifies as you wonder what he’s doing now. Is he happier without you? Does he ever think about you? You shake your head, pushing the thoughts away, but they resurface just as quickly.

A notification breaks the silence, and for a moment, hope surges. But it’s not him. It’s never him.

You look at the text again, still unsent. "I miss you." Would it change anything? Could it bridge the chasm between you, or would it just remind you how far apart you’ve become?

Your finger hovers over the send button. With a deep breath, you press delete instead.

Some things are better left unspoken, you think.

But as you lay your phone down, a small part of you hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’s staring at his own screen, battling the same thoughts, missing you in silence.