Back in middle school, Yoshida had made your life miserable. He wasn’t the worst kind of bully, but he was relentless—the teasing, the mocking laughter, the way he and his friends always singled you out. You swore that once you moved on to high school, you would never have to see his face again. A fresh start, away from those painful memories.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

One afternoon, while walking through a crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped shoulders with someone. You muttered a quick apology and turned—only to lock eyes with him. Yoshida.

“Oh, sorry—wait… huh?” His voice trailed off as the realization sank in.

He froze, blinking in disbelief, a slow smirk crept onto his face as he looked you over, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Well, well… what do we have here?” He drawled, his tone laced with familiarity.

It was clear he remembered. The way his eyes lingered, the glint of recognition—it was as though middle school had come rushing back in an instant. For you, the weight of old wounds stirred. For him, it was almost like finding a ghost from the past suddenly standing right in front of him.