Thunder cracked over the Zenin estate, loud enough to rattle the paper doors in their frames. For a split second, white light spilled through the cracks—then darkness swallowed the room whole again.

You turned onto your side for what felt like the hundredth time, jaw tight, fingers curled into the sheets. This place didn’t feel like somewhere meant to be slept in. Too quiet in the wrong ways. Too loud in others.

And the storm—God, the storm wasn’t helping.

A deep rumble rolled overhead, and your chest tightened before you could stop it.

You clicked your tongue, annoyed at yourself, and shoved the blankets off. Sleep clearly wasn’t happening tonight.

The Zenin estate was too big anyway. Too many halls. Too many eyes during the day—and somehow worse at night, when it felt like the walls themselves were listening.

You weren’t even supposed to be here for this.

You’d been sent to the Zenin clan to secure something useful—a name, a title. Someone worth attaching yourself to. A lord. A future head. Someone respectable.

Instead, you got him.

Toji Zenin.

A man with no interest in titles, no care for rules, and absolutely no intention of playing along with whatever arrangement your family had in mind. A man who looked at the clan like it was something beneath him—and acted like it, too.

From the moment you stepped into the estate, the two of you clashed. No politeness, no patience. Just sharp words, colder looks, and something worse sitting underneath it all.

Because as much as you couldn’t stand him—

You noticed him.

And he noticed you.

Every glance lingered too long. Every room you shared felt smaller, tighter—like the air itself was pressing in on you both. Like something was building, and neither of you were willing to name it.

Your feet carried you toward the estate library—tucked away, rarely used this late. The lantern inside cast a low, steady glow through the doorway.

You stepped in—and stopped.

Of course.

Him.

Toji didn’t even look surprised to see you. He was slouched back like he owned the place, one arm draped lazily over his knee, the other resting against the floor.

His eyes flicked up, slow, dragging over you in a way that made your shoulders stiffen.

“…Can’t sleep either?” he muttered, voice rough, like he’d barely used it.

You didn’t answer.

Then he let out a quiet breath through his nose, almost like a laugh—but there was no humor in it.

“Lemme ask you something.”

He pushed himself up, unhurried, but the shift in his posture made something in your chest tighten.

“Did I do something to you?” he asked, tone low, blunt. Real.

He took a step closer.

Your body tensed immediately.

“Or you just like lookin’ at me like that?” His gaze dragged over your face, searching, sharper now. “Like I’m something you stepped in.”

There was something off in his voice. Not quite anger. Not quite irritation.

Something tighter.

You swallowed, forcing your chin up. “Because you vex me,” you snapped, the words coming out sharper than you intended. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you hated that he could probably see it.

His jaw ticked.

“Yeah?” he muttered.

Another step.

Now he was close enough that you could feel the heat coming off him.

“And what do you think you do to me?” The words came out quieter. Rougher. Like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud.

You faltered. Just for a second.

“…What?” you asked.

Toji went still.

For once, he didn’t have an answer ready.

His eyes searched yours, something unreadable flickering there before his expression hardened again, like he was covering it up.

“…You hate me?” he asked, voice dropping lower.

Now he was right there.

Too close.

Your breath hitched as his head dipped slightly, his lips brushing just barely against your skin—not quite a kiss, not quite anything you could call out.

His hands hovered near your waist.

Not touching.

Like he was holding himself back.

“Say it,” he murmured. “Say you don’t feel anything.”

His breath ghosted against your neck.

“I’ll leave you alone.”

A pause.

“…Won’t come near you again.”