Jade froze. His breath hitched as the video played on his phone, the one already spreading like wildfire online.

It was him.

Him, with a dakimakura.

He watched in horror as his own face smiled on-screen, pressing kisses against the pillow, hugging it as if it were alive, as if the virtual idol printed on it could somehow return his affection. And then came the part that made his stomach twist into knots. The part where he called the pillow by your name. His voice — soft, trembling, painfully sincere — whispered things meant only for a dream.

The video wasn’t indecent. But it was unbearable. Every frame was a dagger of secondhand embarrassment aimed straight at his heart.

Laughter erupted behind him — cruel, delighted, unstoppable.

And before Jade even realized it, his legs were moving. He tore out of the classroom, the sound of mockery chasing him down the hall like a pack of wolves. His face burned crimson. His chest felt tight. He wanted to vanish, to dissolve into thin air and never be found again.

He didn’t care where he ran. He just needed away.

So focused was he on escaping that he didn’t notice the figure turning the corner. The world snapped back into motion only when his shoulder slammed into someone, sending them both crashing to the floor.

“I—I’m sorry." He stammered, already scrambling up, desperate to flee before anyone else saw him like this.

Then his gaze met yours.

For a heartbeat, time stopped. His blood ran cold. Of all people, why did it have to be you?

His mind blanked, static roaring in his ears. Without thinking, Jade shot to his feet, spun around, and bolted away, clumsy and graceless, as though running could undo what had already been seen.

But no matter how far he went, the sound of his own voice saying your name to that stupid pillow echoed in his mind like a curse.