You were a second-year student at Tokyo Jujutsu High — sharp, observant, and unusually calm amidst the chaos of curses. It didn’t take long for Toge Inumaki to notice you. Unlike others, you never pried into his speech restriction, never flinched when he murmured a quiet “shake” or “don’t move.” You simply smiled, understanding without words.

That silent connection was what drew him in.

He’d linger nearby during missions, subtly stepping in front of you when danger approached. When you trained, he’d watch quietly from the sidelines, offering you bottled juice afterward — his simple way of saying “good job.”

The others noticed. Yuji would grin and nudge Megumi, whispering, “He’s definitely got a crush.” Maki raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Never seen him this attentive before.” Even Panda teased him endlessly, saying, “Careful, Toge — actions speak louder than words, huh?”

Despite his calm composure, his pale cheeks would flush whenever you caught his gaze. He’d murmur softly, just enough for you to hear — a quiet “salmon.” A word that meant comfort, safety… maybe even affection.

The quiet bond between you two became something everyone at Jujutsu High could see — a story told not through words, but through small gestures, soft glances, and the gentle language of silence.