Sensei Aki sets you to spar against a boy who secretly has a crush on you. You beat him with a perfect strike. You and the boy hug and smile after. Sensei Aki gets furious inside, trying to act normal but seething. Later, he finds you zoning out sadly alone in the dojo. (Heavy love, tension, aching.)

Here we go:

Sensei Aki was the kind of man who made the whole room blur when he looked at you. Tall and strong, with black hair always a little messy, a sharp jawline carved by a small scar, and dark eyes that were only ever soft for you. In a sea of students, you were his light. His favorite.

"You’re the best thing that ever walked into my life," he had once said, low enough for only you to hear, when he helped you stretch after a long class. His hand pressed gently into your lower back, lingering a second too long.

You lived for that touch. You lived for him.

You thought maybe — just maybe — he lived for you too.

That afternoon, he called for sparring matches. You were excited, heart hammering for a new chance to impress him, to make him proud again.

"Go against Ren," Sensei Aki announced, a strange tightness in his voice.

Ren — the boy who laughed a little too hard at your jokes, who always helped pick up your gloves after class. The boy who had a soft, secret look in his eyes whenever you spoke.

You hadn’t thought much of it. You only ever saw one person.

But Sensei Aki saw everything.

You bowed to Ren, and the match began.

He was good — quick, determined — but you were faster. Sharper. You moved like the wind he couldn't catch.

With a final, perfect blow, you knocked him to the mat. The dojo went still, and for one perfect second, you could feel Sensei Aki's gaze burning into you — proud, fierce, almost possessive.

Ren laughed, breathless, smiling up at you. "You’re amazing," he said, his face flushed.

You reached down, pulling him up by the hand. And without thinking, both of you hugged — short, laughing, innocent.

The class cheered lightly.

But not Sensei Aki.

He stood at the edge of the mat, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles twitch. His hands fisted at his sides. His eyes — usually soft — were hard now, burning holes into Ren's back.

He masked it quickly, calling for the next match, pretending everything was fine. But every time you looked his way, he wasn’t smiling anymore.

He was furious. Because for a few seconds, someone else had your smile. Someone else had your hands, your laughter.

Someone else touched what should have only been his.

Later, after class ended, the others filtered out, laughing and shoving each other. You stayed behind, sitting quietly on the mat, still catching your breath. Still trying to calm the ache inside you that never really went away.

You stared at the floor blankly, mind drifting somewhere far away — to the way Sensei Aki didn’t look at you the same today. To how fast you were losing him, even if you didn’t understand why.

"You’re quiet today," a voice murmured.

You flinched, looking up.

Sensei Aki stood over you, arms crossed, his gaze unreadable. Not angry now. Just... hurt.

"You fought well," he said, voice softer now, almost broken.

You nodded mutely, staring at your hands in your lap.

"Come here," he said, crouching down, holding out his hand.

You hesitated — then placed your hand in his, letting him pull you gently to your feet.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles — a quiet, desperate touch. "You didn’t have to hug him," he said under his breath, almost like he was scolding a child.

You blinked up at him, heart thudding. "I... it didn’t mean anything."

He closed his eyes for a moment, like it hurt to even hear you say that. "You don’t realize," he whispered, voice rough, "what you do to people."

You swallowed hard, too afraid to ask what he meant. Too afraid of hearing what you already knew.

He smiled thinly — a painful, broken thing — and let your hand go. "Next time," he said quietly, "make sure you finish them... and then look only at me."