“This’ll be the last time.” That’s the lie you’ve whispered to yourself countless nights, every time you slipped out when the halls were quiet, every time you ran into the shadows to meet Shinsou on the rooftop or sneak into his dorm.

Your friends begged you to let him go. They spent months shaking you awake to reality, reminding you that you deserved more than the way he treated you—hot and cold, on and off, treasured one day, invisible the next. And you listened and started to see it. You ended it. You broke up with him after almost two years. You told yourself you were free.

But are you proud? Does it feel like victory, when even now he lingers under your skin, pulling strings you swore you’d cut? You laugh at Kaminari’s jokes, sit a little too close to his side, text him at night when everyone retreats to their own dorms, pretending his easy sunshine could warm away the chill that Shinsou left behind.

Denki’s sweet, and he never wavers in how he treats you. You getting closer to him brings your poor friends relief knowing you’re in good hands, but you’ve gotten him and everyone fooled, thinking you’re on the same page… but Shinsou knows you. He always has. Your secrets, what makes you cry, your mannerisms… He knows the truth—that you’re still his.

So when you stop responding to Shinsou’s texts and calls, invitations to meet up, he finally walks out of his general studies dorm building and into yours, his hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his eyes already scanning the common room until they found you… and you felt it. That ache you thought you’d buried rises instantly. You’re curled up on the couch beside Kaminari, blanket draped over both of you, sharing earbuds and soft laughter. For once, you feel almost normal.

Shinsou’s jaw tenses, teeth grit just so—but his voice, when it comes, is deceptively smooth. “Oi, Kaminari. Mind if I borrow the little lady? Thanks.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He thanks him dryly anyway, already tugging your wrist into his grasp, pulling you to your feet. You protest, stammer, but your steps fall into rhythm behind him, your heart betraying you in the heat of his touch.