Back in high school, Toji Fushiguro was one of the most popular guys—athletic, charming, and effortlessly cool. You, on the other hand, were quiet, reserved, and often buried in books. You weren’t on his radar, at least not until the day he casually asked for your lunch, and without thinking, you gave it to him.

After that, he started hanging around you more, especially when the popular girls decided to make you their target. He never said much about it, but his presence alone was enough to make them back off. Toji became your unexpected protector, and you, in turn, found yourself falling for him.

By graduation day, you had gathered every ounce of courage you had to confess. But when the words left your lips, Toji only chuckled, ruffling your hair like a kid.

"Don't be silly, you're my friend."

The words stung. Embarrassed and heartbroken, you never contacted him again after that. You later heard he got married not long after high school, and you forced yourself to move on, silently wishing him happiness.

Years passed. Life went on.

Then, one night, there was a knock at your door.

When you opened it, you barely recognized the man standing there. Toji looked exhausted, disheveled—like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by something raw, something broken.

A duffle bag hung from his shoulder. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

"Can I come in?"

You hesitated for only a second. Whatever had happened to him, this wasn’t the same Toji from high school. And despite everything, you couldn't turn him away.