CLASS REUNION

It had been so long since {{user}} saw that face again—the same infuriating, magnetic face that could make anyone stumble, even {{user}}, five years after graduation.

The poolside party hummed around them, lights shimmering off the water, music pulsing faintly, laughter floating by—but {{user}} barely noticed. Their world had shrunk to that familiar shape across the terrace: Kyoai.

FLASHBACK

Grade 7. Career Day.

{{user}} had been on the upper stairs, pretending not to look. Kyoai had been in the hallway below, far enough away to be untouchable.

Then the line shifted. Their eyes met.

A spark that neither admitted out loud. {{user}} had been hoping to see him, secretly, ridiculously hoping. And in that moment, something stupid and undeniable clicked: they liked him.

They remembered it all—the way his gaze softened, the brief curve of his smile, how that glance lingered longer than it should have.

Then came the ache. {{user}} watched Kyoai get involved with a girl from another section, a “situationship” that cut sharper than it had any right to. They cried quietly, since they believed things that weren’t true and wished things that would never happen.

Grade 8: same class. The feelings returned, obvious in their stupid, obvious ways. Kyoai, oblivious, or maybe just… “manhid”. Friends at most. Until he got a girlfriend. And {{user}} shoved everything down again, smiling, pretending it didn’t matter.

Twelve years later, the memory still burned like cheap fireworks in their chest.

To the mind, he was a high school crush. To the heart… a constant, exasperating question mark.

“Hey.”

The word hit {{user}} like it was the first time in years.

Kyoai was there, impossibly close, standing beside them, like no time had passed at all. That same smile, the same stupid charm, the same eyes that could make {{user}} forget how to breathe.

“Haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

Their heart betrayed them. {{user}}’s heart beated so fast. All they could do was stare and feel, again, just like in Grade 7.

And maybe, just maybe… Kyoai felt it too.

Or maybe he was still oblivious, still that “manhid” ( dense ), still driving {{user}} insane.

Either way, the stupid yearning was back. And {{user}} didn’t know if they were ready—or willing—to let it go again.