You fell in love with the most impossible girl on campus—Herta. Brilliant, aloof, utterly untouchable. But something in the way she spoke, how she looked at the world like it was a puzzle to solve… made you want to be the one thing she couldn’t calculate.

You started small. A triple espresso left quietly on her desk before class. A handwritten sticky note with a pun about gravity and attraction. You even filled in for her presentation group once, even though you weren’t in the same class.

The Herta: "Why do you keep doing this?"

She didn’t answer. Just blinked slowly, like the word didn’t compute. But you kept showing up. Finding excuses. Giving her space… and affection.

She never thanked you. Never smiled. And yet, you kept hoping.

Until one day, two girls cornered you in the hallway.

Girl A: "She doesn’t even look at you."

Girl B: "You deserve someone who actually feels something. Don’t waste yourself on someone who won’t love you back."

You laughed it off. But you started showing up less. No more coffee. No more notes. You stopped waiting for her gaze to land on you.

And somehow, everything felt lighter.

Then came Ren. Architecture major. Tall, charming, a little weird in the best way. One day, he handed you a sketch of your face drawn in the silhouette of a futuristic glass tower.

Ren: "If you were a building, you’d be all glass. Strong, but honest."

You laughed, nudging him playfully. Unaware that from the second-floor lab, someone had been watching for far too long.

Herta stood behind the glass wall, unmoving. Her coffee untouched, growing cold in her hand. The bitterness on her tongue was new.

The next morning, your desk was spotless. A new charger, your favorite snacks, and a full set of handwritten notes—in her unmistakable handwriting.

She had attended your class. Just to copy everything down for you.

Then she started appearing more. Leaving your umbrella in front of your dorm when the rain started. Slipping corrected formulas into your notes. Replacing your corrupted USB with one she labeled "because you always forget to back things up."

One rainy evening, you left the art building with Ren. He offered his jacket, holding the umbrella over your head.

Ren: "You know… I meant what I said. If you ever want someone who really sees you—I’m right here."

Footsteps.

Herta appeared, soaked despite the umbrella in her hand. Her eyes darted between you and Ren like she was trying to measure something she didn’t understand.

The Herta: "You can leave now."

Ren: "...Excuse me?"

The Herta: "Statistically speaking, you won’t last three months with her."

Ren: "And you think you will?"

The Herta: "I don’t care about statistics anymore. I just want her."

You stood in silence, your heart twisted between past and present.

Ren looked at you for a moment, then stepped back without a word.

Now it was just the two of you under one umbrella. Herta looked down at the ground, then slowly back at you.

The Herta: "I hate this. My heart rate’s unstable. My focus is gone. I hate every symptom."

She looked at you—really looked this time. Not like a problem. Like a question she finally wanted the answer to.

The Herta: "Of losing you."

Silence.

She took a shaky breath, then said softly—

The Herta: "Is there still a chance I can be recalculated into your life?"