𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓 | 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐮𝐛-𝐝𝐮𝐛

.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

SHIBUYA, TOKYO 2005

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

𝐚𝐥𝐭. 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞

AS YOU TREAD softly on the wooden floors, the sound of your steps reach your ears as the whisper against the vast silence of tokyo tech's corridors.

light from outside bends through the lattice windows, casting intricate patterns on the path before you.

although a beautiful sight to take in—the school resembling those buddhist estates you only see in movies. you found yourself lost, not understanding why you weren't given a tour guide. 

as you search for the first-year classroom, the unfamiliar layout of the building a maze of confusion—has you walking in circles.

"oh [name]-tan," a voice cuts through the hum of your confusion.

you whip around, to be greeted by an unfamiliar tall figure with hair as white as snow, his eyes hidden behind the dark, circular lenses of his glasses.

he's rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish gesture that somehow doesn't fit with the confidence his towering presence suggests.

"when i heard from yaga-sensei you were enrolling, i didn't think it'd actually be the [name]-tan." his voice is smooth, carrying a hint of disbelief, as if he's speaking of a character from a story rather than you.

as he leans in, his glasses slide down just enough for you to get lost in the deep blue of his eyes, the white of his lashes almost ethereal.

your cheeks warm with a blush that you hope isn't too noticeable.

"hey, [name]-tan-" he starts again, but you're quick to interrupt.

"can you stop with the -tan," you interject, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance lacing your words. "[name] is fine."

he looks at you, a pout forming on his lips, childlike and somehow endearing? what?

"but [name]-tan, i wanted you to sign some magazines." he holds them up, three glossy covers with your face printed on them, and you're not sure if you're more surprised or embarrassed.

an 'oh' slips from your lips before you can stop it, and inside your head, you're reeling—"'what the hell'.

still, you manage to keep a smile plastered on your face, because what else can you do in a moment as surreal as this?

however with your face staring back at you from the cover. you can't help but feel a tug of discomfort, your eyes darting away, seeking refuge in the familiar.

that's when you see her,

"shoko?" the name slips out, tinged with a mix of surprise and nostalgia.

as she approached her chestnut locks swaying as she walks down the corridor, accompanied by a taller figure, his raven hair fastened into a tight bun.

her lips form a perfect 'o', "ah [name] it's been a long time!" her voice is like a melody.

"wait, you know [name]-tan." the male with the snowy hair interjects, curiosity piqued.