Archive of Our Own

Let’s just say that back in high school, you and Alan were classmates, and somehow, it developed into a kind of friendship.

Ever since you were a child, you had always been picked on because of your height. You stood taller than most people in your class, which made you an easy target for other kids. They would call you Hachishakusama, mocking your height, laughing at you, even throwing things your way. It escalated in middle school, where they went as far as trashing your desk and locker.

And you, despite your appearance, were actually the type to keep to yourself. You were shy, lacking confidence and self-esteem, worn down by all the cruel antics you had endured from classmates when you were younger.

You thought that staying quiet would bore them enough to make them stop, to eventually leave you alone but you were wrong. It continued, even into middle school.

But you weren’t as easygoing as people assumed. The only reason you stayed silent was because when you told your parents, they treated it as a nuisance, telling you to behave at school so you wouldn’t cause them any trouble. That was why you endured all the bullying, you were afraid of becoming a burden to them.

However, in middle school, something changed. You finally threw fists at those who trashed your locker and desk. They had gone too far, tearing your notebooks apart and even tossing your shoes into the trash.

Something in you snapped. You had endured enough of their disgusting behavior. So when you saw your notebooks ripped to pieces and scattered all over your seat, you simply walked out of the classroom and headed straight toward the group that always targeted you.

You couldn’t exactly fight someone stronger than you and you didn’t know how to properly defend yourself. So you chose the easiest target, grabbing their hair and slapping them across the face, again and again. Honestly, why should you even consider playing fair with bullies? They deserved no respect from you.

No matter how many people tried to stop you, you kept going, punching and striking those bastards who were smaller and shorter than you. They weren’t even tall enough to justify that kind of twisted attitude toward you. Did they really think you would just sit there and take it?

The aftermath was chaotic, ending with all the families sitting down together to settle things. Of course, everyone had to apologize. But what you gained from that day was simple: no one dared to mess with you again. They were afraid you might lash out and hit them all over again.

So by the time you reached high school, the bullying stopped. However, because of rumors and gossip about that incident, all kinds of exaggerated stories circulated about you. Some people whispered behind your back. Some boys made occasional remarks about your appearance.

You remember one day when you had classroom duty, wiping the desks and the board, rearranging books on the shelves.

Someone made a comment about how your height made the school skirt seem shorter, exposing your legs and thighs in a “vulgar” way, as if you were trying too hard to show off. And comments like that always made your temper flare.

You were just about to shove the dirty board eraser down his throat, you had already had enough for the day and this asshole still managed to push you further.

But before you could act, another boy stepped in to defend you.

You recognized him, Alan Todoroki. He was always unusually quiet in class, sitting in the back row beside you because you were both too tall for the front. In a way, he was your deskmate.

Though the two of you rarely spoke, since neither of you was particularly talkative and any conversation between you felt stiff and awkward. You had your group of friends and he had his, so your circles never really overlapped.

The closest thing to a conversation was when you lost your eraser and had to borrow his, or when he forgot his book and asked to share yours. Most of the time, you simply sat side by side in silence.

But you had noticed that he always seemed sleepy in class. Sometimes teachers would catch him dozing off and send him to stand in the hallway.

That was pretty much all you knew about Alan, nothing more, nothing less. You could call him your classmate but not your friend.

Still, it was the first time someone who wasn’t close to you had ever stood up for you and of course, you appreciated it.

As for Alan, he was often misunderstood. His appearance made him look a bit delinquent and most people in your class, if not the whole school, seemed afraid of him. So whenever he spoke, they would fall silent, quickly shutting up and backing away like cowards.

You only managed a quiet “thank you” but he seemed completely indifferent.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

After that day, the two of you still didn’t talk much but you found yourself paying more attention to him.

The way he always seemed distracted, his gaze drifting out the window as if he were silently waiting for the school day to end. You couldn’t help but wonder why. What weighed on his mind so heavily that he always looked so distant?

And then there were the moments he dozed off in the middle of class. Every time, the teachers would get irritated. Today was no different. In the middle of math class, teacher suddenly called on him to answer a question.

You nudged him lightly, pulling him back to reality, only for him to realize the teacher was already staring, clearly annoyed by his lack of attention. He stood there, completely lost.

Quietly, you whispered the answer under your breath.

He repeated it aloud.

Fortunately, the teacher didn’t press further, letting him sit back down as the lesson continued. He turned toward you, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, casting a soft glow across the classroom as he murmured a quiet “thank you.”

You didn’t think much of it.

To you, Alan was just another classmate, someone who, once you graduated, would fade into a distant memory. Just a passing figure in your life. Nothing more, nothing less.

At least, that’s what you believed.

Until the day your paths crossed again.

You had just finished your extracurricular class that night. On your way home, rain suddenly poured down in heavy sheets.

You had no umbrella. No money. And most of the nearby shops refused to let anyone stay unless they bought something.

Clicking your tongue in frustration, you rushed under the dim shelter of a small storefront, shaking the water from your hair. You pulled out your phone, planning to call your parents, only to realize it had died at some point.

Seriously? Could this get any worse?

A loud crack of thunder answered your thoughts.

You sighed, leaning back against the wall, debating whether to ask the shop owner if you could use their phone. Turning toward the entrance, you reached for the door. 

It slid open before you could touch it.

A tall figure stepped out.

“I’m off now, Boss.”

The voice was familiar.

You lifted your gaze just as he turned and both of you froze.

“Oh? Who’s at the door, Todo?” a man’s voice called from inside.

Alan looked just as surprised, caught off guard for a second before answering, “She is… my classmate.”

It turned out that this small restaurant was where he worked part-time. He usually took night shifts, sometimes even weekends, trying to earn extra money. It was just him and his father at home, and his dad was constantly busy, often working late into the night. Alan wanted to help, to ease the financial burden.

The owner was an acquaintance, his friend’s uncle. At first, Alan had only helped with small errands but after learning about his situation, the man offered to pay him hourly.

So when he saw you standing there that night, soaked and stranded, he offered to take you home.

Even when you insisted you could call your parents, he still wouldn’t budge, determined to make sure you got back safely.

You thought he might lend you an umbrella.

Instead, he led you down a narrow alley to a small parking lot.

You saw a white van was parked there.

A very shady looking white van.

Honestly, all it was missing was tinted windows and a “free candy” sign.

“You drive?” you asked, surprised, as he opened the passenger door for you.

Once you settled inside, he handed you a towel. You murmured a soft thanks, drying your hair.

“Yes. I sometimes help a friend with deliveries,” he replied, gesturing for you to put on your seatbelt. You quickly did.

“But we’re not old enough to drive…” you muttered, before something clicked. You turned to him sharply. “Wait! Do you even have a license?!”

He went suspiciously quiet.

The engine started, the windshield wipers sweeping away the heavy rain.

Feeling your stare, Alan let out a small, almost sheepish grin, boyish and a little helpless.

“Let’s keep this a secret between us, yeah?”

It was the first time you had seen him smile.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But he rarely did, at least not around you. Or maybe you just weren’t close enough to notice.

You weren’t sure anymore.

You gave a small nod and turned your gaze forward again.

Silence settled between you.

You didn’t know what to say. Or if you should say anything at all.

And Alan didn’t seem like the type to start conversations either. He kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, as if the quiet had started to weigh on him too.

“So… why are you out so late?” he asked, voice low.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“I had an extracurricular class. I was just heading home,” you replied, a bit awkwardly.

And once again, silence filled the space.

The only sounds were the steady hum of the engine and the relentless rain against the windows, as the two of you sat there, together, yet saying nothing more.

You had already told him where you lived, and he mentioned it was along the same route he took home. The van was borrowed from the restaurant, and since he had to use it for errands anyway, he usually drove it back after his shift, so according to him, it wasn’t any trouble to give you a ride.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were inconveniencing him.

As you dried your hair with the towel, your stomach suddenly let out a loud rumble.

For a moment, you genuinely wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it.

Alan definitely heard it too. He coughed awkwardly, and you silently prayed he would ignore it but instead, he reached over and handed you a small paper bag.

You blinked, a bit dumbfounded. 

It smelled amazing.

“You can have it,” he said. “It’s taiyaki.” As soon as you took the bag, he quickly pulled his hand back. “My boss usually lets us take some leftovers home,” he added.

“The filling is custard… I think you’d like it.”

The last part came out softer, almost like a murmur but in the enclosed space of the van, you heard it clearly.

You peeked inside the bag then glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“How did you know I like- I mean…” You trailed off, unsure how to phrase it without making things awkward.

His fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

“I… accidentally overheard you talking with your friends the other day,” he replied quietly, his tone was a bit casual.

Were we really that loud?

You couldn’t even remember but the thought that someone else had heard your conversation made your face warm with embarrassment.

“Thank you…” you murmured again, taking one of the warm, fish shaped cakes and biting into it.

It was delicious. Still hot, with a generous amount of filling, soft and fluffy, the custard melting smoothly on your tongue. You finished one quickly, your stomach finally settling.

You hadn’t eaten anything before your extracurricular class. Your mom always scolded you about that but you never seemed to have the time.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Alan didn’t try to start another conversation and neither did you.

When you arrived at your house, he stepped out first, opening an umbrella before walking around to your side and opening the door.

“I’ll walk you in,” he said simply.

“It’s really not that far, I can just run,” you protested but he shook his head, insisting.

So you let him walk you to your porch, the sound of rain pouring heavily around you.

Before parting, you turned to him, fidgeting slightly.

“Thank you for driving me home… and for the cake… sorry for bothering you…”

The words tumbled out awkwardly, and you weren’t even sure what else to say.

“G-good night, then.”

You gave a small, hurried wave before quickly slipping inside, shutting the door behind you.

Leaning against it, you let out a quiet breath.

You didn’t know what else you could have said.

And Alan… he always seemed so indifferent. Even if he was thinking something, you doubted you could read him. He rarely showed much of what was on his mind after all.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

But ever since that night, something between you shifted.

Now, every time you headed home after your extracurricular classes, you found yourself walking past the street where that small restaurant was. The dim, warm light would catch your eye, the humble sign somehow more inviting than it had any right to be, always reminding you of that rainy evening.

So when you suggested grabbing a bite with your friends from the same extracurricular class, you instinctively led them there.

The owner was friendly and welcoming. Most of the customers were students or young adults, giving the place a cozy, lively atmosphere that made it easy to linger.

When Alan saw you walk in with your friends, he looked slightly surprised.

You gave him a small, awkward wave.

He didn’t comment on it. In fact, he didn’t acknowledge it much at all, treating you just like any other customer. You weren’t sure if he was simply being professional during his shift or if he preferred to keep his job private. After all, the friends you brought weren’t from your school, so none of them knew him or that the two of you were classmates.

So, you played along.

Pretending not to know him.

Only on the occasional nights when you came alone did he seem more relaxed, speaking to you a little more. Over time, you became something of a regular, and the owner eventually figured out that you were Alan’s classmate. Sometimes, he would even joke about the two of you being a pair, leaving both of you flustered, quick to deny it every single time.

And slowly, almost without noticing, things began to change.

You started talking more at school. Sharing notes. Occasionally doing homework together.

The distance between your desks, once just a narrow walkway, felt even smaller somehow.

Sometimes you’d lean over and whisper answers to him when he got called out for zoning out again. Sometimes he’d help you during classroom duties, though you often found yourself laughing when he forgot where the faculty room was, even after studying there for so long.

And outside of school…

After your extracurricular classes, you’d stop by the restaurant more often. Sometimes, if he finished his shift early, he’d drive you home again. Other times, the two of you would take the train together, standing side by side in comfortable silence.

It wasn’t anything dramatic.

No big moment and noo clear turning point.

And before you even realized it.

Your friendship with Alan had taken shape, subtle and effortless, like it had always been meant to happen that way.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

“Alan isn’t here today?” you asked, a little surprised.

The employee you were talking to nodded. “Yeah, he’s been taking quite a few days off lately.”

Alan was always either at school, at home, or here. He didn’t seem like the type to wander around aimlessly or maybe he did, and you just never noticed. Even now, it hit you how little you actually knew about him.

What he did in his free time.

What he liked or disliked.

Where he went when he wasn’t at school or work.

Who he spent time with outside of class.

For someone you now considered a friend… you barely knew anything at all.

“Um… sorry, do you have any idea where he might be?” you asked, even though you already knew it was a long shot.

The boy shook his head. “Not really. Maybe Kei would know. Hey, Kei!”

He suddenly raised his voice, making you flinch slightly.

“What?! Why are you yelling like that? Trying to scare off all the customers again?” another boy snapped as he stepped out from the kitchen.

He stopped when he saw you.

“Oh, you’re Alan’s classmate, right?”

He was tall and lean, his shirt hanging loosely over his frame. Streaks of blond ran through his hair, and small piercings lined his ears. A towel rested casually over his shoulder as he looked at you with a curious grin.

“What can I help you with?”

This must be the friend Alan mentioned, the owner’s nephew.

“She wants to know where Alan usually goes when he’s not at work,” the other employee said bluntly.

You almost reached out to cover his mouth.

“Oh~?” Kei dragged out the sound, his eyes lighting up with interest.

You immediately wanted to disappear.

“I do know where he is,” he continued, glancing you up and down, his grin turning playful and borderline mischievous. “But…”

“I don’t think he’d approve if I took you there.”

You stared at him, completely caught off guard.

And Kei, he just smiled wider and clearly enjoying your reaction.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

You must have been out of your mind because why on earth did you agree to go with him?

He didn’t even have a license and yet you still got into his car. You didn’t know where you found the courage to follow a near-stranger to who-knows-where, letting him drive you somewhere completely unfamiliar.

And it turned out to be… a racing track.

The moment you stepped out of the car and followed the blond boy inside, the noise hit you like a wave. Engines roared in the background, so loud it felt like your ears might give out. People crowded around in groups, laughing, shouting and talking over one another. The air buzzed with energy, chaotic and alive.

It was overwhelming.

And completely unlike anything you had ever associated with Alan.

He was always so quiet. Reserved. The kind of person who blended into the background.

You couldn’t imagine him here.

…But maybe that was the problem.

Maybe you just didn’t know him as well as you thought.

“Kei! You came!”

A group of girls rushed toward the blond boy, surrounding him instantly.

Well, he was good-looking. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

While you stood there, still trying to process everything, Kei casually gestured toward you.

“I’m not here to race,” he said. “I brought someone.”

You gave a small, awkward wave.

The girls fell silent for a second then all their attention shifted to you.

Their eyes moved up and down, studying you in a way that made your shoulders stiffen.

You suddenly felt very… out of place.

They were all dressed up, hair styled, makeup done, outfits carefully put together. And you?

You had just come straight from your extracurricular class, still in your school uniform.

You usually dressed up when going out with friends.

But not today.

And maybe it was the lingering memory of being picked on, the old names, the judgment that still clung to you, because every time someone looked at you like that, it made you painfully aware of yourself.

“Oh! I recognize that uniform, you go to the same school as Todo right?” one of them said, smiling as she introduced herself.

“Ah… yeah,” you replied, unsure how to continue.

“You’re so tall! Do you play any sports?”

More questions followed.

They were all shorter than you, all effortlessly pretty, and suddenly you were the center of attention in a way you didn’t know how to handle.

You felt overwhelmed once again. 

“Oi, go easy on her, it’s her first time here,” Kei laughed, though the girls didn’t seem to care much.

“Are you friends with Alan?”

You turned toward the one who asked.

She is very stood out, her hair dyed a soft reddish color, her presence a little calmer than the others.

“Um… sort of, I guess,” you answered hesitantly.

She laughed softly.

“He’s in the garage, Kei,” she said, glancing toward blond boy.

“I know,” he replied, hands in his pockets, his grin turning mischievous. “But I wouldn’t dare bring her there. He’d be furious.” He chuckled. “So be my tour guide, yeah?”

And just like that hee left.

“Wait-” you called out, instinctively stepping forward but he was already gone.

He had just… dropped you in the middle of nowhere.

With a group of strangers.

Before you could even decide whether to go after him, someone suddenly hooked their arm around yours.

“Come on! We’ll take you to Todo!” the girl said excitedly.

You barely had time to react before they started pulling you along.

“Sorry,” the red haired girl said as she walked beside you. “They get like this whenever Alan makes a new friend.”

You were still trying to process everything, but one thing became clear. 

Everyone here seemed to know him.

“I’m Mei,” the red haired girl added with a small smile. “And the one clinging to you is Mika.”

The shorter girl giggled, tightening her hold on your arm as she continued leading the way.

And just like that. 

You were being dragged deeper into a side of Alan’s life you had never even imagined existed.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

They lead you toward a building. 

More of a warehouse at this point, as you see cars everywhere around the place. People seem to crowd here even more. Not many glance your way, they all seem busy, which eases you a bit as the two girls lead you into a garage.

There stand a few more men, all working on their own tasks.

“Oh, a new visitor?” someone asks, raising his eyebrows as Mei says something to him that you don’t quite catch.

“Hey, Todo, there’s this pretty girl here to find you.” The shorter girl lets go of your arm as she steps inside and raises her voice so loudly that the whole garage seems to stop what they’re doing to look at you.

You almost wish a car would run you over right now, you’re so embarrassed. Why is everyone around Alan so blunt with their words?

“I-” Before you can even explain.

You hear a loud clink as something drops to the ground somewhere near one of the cars in the distance. A guy who seems to be working under it slides out from beneath on a creeper.

Sitting up, he looks confused at first, but then his eyes widen in surprise when he sees your face. You’re a bit taken aback too, quickly looking away.

Why isn’t he wearing a shirt?!

But before you can even process anything, he’s already standing and walking straight toward you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice sounds a bit panicked as his brows furrow.

You’re startled by his sudden tone and don’t know how to answer.

“I am-”

“Who brought you here?” he cuts you off before you can finish.

“You know who.” Mei suddenly speaks up, crossing her arms.

Your gaze returns to Alan’s face as sweat drips from his forehead. He wipes it away with the shirt draped over his shoulder.

Something seems to click in his head at Mei’s words, and suddenly he grabs your arm. Before you can react, he drags you out of the garage.

“W-wait-” You just follow him like that.

“I’ll take you home,” he says, his tone sounding more like an order than a simple statement.

And he does take you home. He doesn’t even listen to what you have to say. Pulling his shirt back on, he grabs his coat, opens the passenger seat, and tells you to get in. You have to admit, you’ve never seen Alan act like this. His gaze is so strict that you immediately obey, slipping in and fastening your seatbelt.

Looking outside, you catch sight of the racing track. Yeah, you were curious about where he’d go if not the restaurant but you’re not really interested in cars or racing.

It’s more that you’re curious about him.

He doesn’t seem pleased that you showed up. His brows stay furrowed the entire time he drives.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to pry into your business…” you say, trying to break the heavy silence.

His eyes stay on the road, his lips pressed into a thin line for what feels like forever before he finally speaks.

“It’s not your fault.” His voice reaches you, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. “It’s just… not somewhere you should be…”

He sounds just as awkward as you, trying to explain his good intentions but you understand. Maybe it isn’t the best place for a high schooler to wander into.

You stay quiet for a moment. But your curiosity keeps tugging at your mind, and you can’t help but ask.

“So… I figure that’s also one of your side jobs?”

Even you’re surprised by your own question and you can feel Alan shift slightly beside you.

“…Occasionally, I go there. It helps me earn more than the restaurant,” he answers quietly, his eyes still fixed ahead.

You want to ask if he should even be there, if it counts as underage labor and if the place is as questionable as it seems…

But you stop yourself. You might be crossing a line.

So instead, you gently steer the conversation elsewhere.

“I was just… curious where you’d be if not at your usual work…”

Did that sound creepy? Like you’ve been following him around?

But at the same time… aren’t you two friends? Or is that only how you see it? To him, you might just be another classmate, someone he barely thinks about.

“You can ask me about that,” Alan says.

You stay quiet for a moment, letting his words settle as you look out the window.

“Would you tell me if I asked?” you press.

He seems momentarily speechless.

Because knowing Alan means knowing he keeps most things to himself and that’s valid. It’s his personal life. Who are you to pry?

But still… you feel like he wouldn’t necessarily hide things from you. Maybe he wouldn’t want you there but maybe he would answer if you truly asked.

“I will. You’re… um, my friend, after all.”

It’s an awkward answer, and for the rest of the ride, neither of you says a word. But somehow, it satisfies you.

When you arrive home, you give him a soft goodnight.

He still seems a bit distant about everything but for now, you don’t feel the need to pry further. At least you know he isn’t against you getting to know him better, as a friend.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

When did your relationship begin to shift?

It must have been that evening, when you arrived at the restaurant to grab a bite. The owner spotted you and lit up, as bright as always, telling you to take a seat while he prepared something special for you.

You were a bit confused, yes, Kei’s uncle knew your usual order since you stopped by often. His food was delicious and suited your taste perfectly, which was why you kept coming back. The place was small, yet still busy, and you took a seat at the bar stool right in front of him.

He then shouted into the kitchen, calling for Alan, and the boy quickly appeared. The old man gestured for him to sit, and Alan did. Soon, a tray filled with various dishes was placed in front of the two of you, catching you off guard.

“Dig in, you two. You both look so skinny, kids these days! Eat more, gain some weight, and you’ll be healthy enough to enjoy your youth!”

You let out a small laugh. The uncle always nagged like that, not just to you but to most of his younger employees. He was rugged but deeply caring and attentive. That’s why, when you first met Alan’s friend, you hadn’t even realized this man was Kei’s uncle, they were so different in so many ways.

Alan thanked him and immediately began eating. Since he worked here, it wasn’t unusual to see him having his meals at the restaurant.

Still the spread in front of you seemed more elaborate than usual. You turned to the owner before picking up your chopsticks.

“Can I ask what the occasion is? Are you trying out a new recipe?”

The old man shook his head, arms crossing over his chest.

“Oh no, I just made these for Todo. He’s still working on his birthday, gotta treat my son eh?”

You nearly dropped your chopsticks at his words.

Right… you didn’t know Alan’s birthday. You had never even thought to ask.

How could you not have realized? What kind of friend were you?

Your head snapped toward him, only to see that he was still eating, completely unfazed. He didn’t seem to care that it was his birthday or that you hadn’t known.

You ended up spacing out through the rest of the meal, and even afterward, when Alan finished his shift and walked you home. As you walked side by side, he suddenly spoke.

“Um… are you okay?”

His tone was uncertain, hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should ask.

You had been unusually quiet the entire walk, drifting in and out of your thoughts. He wondered if you were feeling unwell.

“Ah, yeah…” you replied, turning slightly to meet his gaze.

His bluish gray eyes caught the glow of the streetlights as a soft breeze passed between you. You were both second year high school students now and maybe that was why you had never thought to ask something as simple as his birthday.

It was April, around the time school resumed. Most people were focused on classes and daily routines rather than things like celebrations. And Alan himself didn’t seem to care much about it either.

“Did you… not celebrate your birthday with your dad?” You carefully chose your words, afraid of crossing a line.

You were curious. From the bits and pieces Alan had shared, he seemed close to his father. It would’ve been natural for them to spend the day together right?

But… he was at work.

Maybe he had friends to celebrate with instead?

Yet Alan didn’t seem to think much of it as you continued walking.

“Yeah… I’m usually at home cooking something. He comes back pretty late most of the time…” he said quietly.

“Lately, his workload’s increased, I guess. He has more night shifts, so he hasn’t been home much.”

He said it so casually, as if it were nothing more than an everyday occurrence.

You couldn’t quite tell what he felt, whether he was sad, disappointed, or simply used to it.

“I figured if I’m going to be alone tonight anyway, I might as well work.”

You slowed your pace slightly.

“Don’t you feel… lonely?” you asked hesitantly.

He noticed you falling behind and stopped walking as well.

“Not really… I’m used to it by now. And it’s not like we’ll never celebrate. There’s always next year… and the years after.”

He sounded casual but there was a faint warmth in his voice that eased something in your chest.

Alan always seemed a little lonely in class. Even when he had his own group of friends, there was a distance like he never fully let anyone in. Sometimes you wondered if he treated them the same way he treated you, keeping parts of himself hidden.

Wasn’t that a kind of isolation?

And then there were the rumors, how he was sometimes mistaken for a delinquent, how it got him into trouble with teachers and other students.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

Because you knew Alan.

He was kind and hardworking. Even when he struggled, he put in the effort to improve, patiently learning step by step. You remembered how he had asked you to tutor him, embarrassed about his math grades.

Of course you had helped him, he was your friend.

And he had worked so hard that his scores improved, even if only a little.

You didn’t care about the rumors.

You wanted to understand him for yourself. To know him beyond what others said.

Because if anyone.

You understood what it felt like to be misunderstood. To have people keep their distance over things that might not even be true.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

As the two of you stood there, a kid suddenly dashed right behind Alan, nearly getting hit by a biker before he tripped and fell to the ground. A broken cry escaped him as he scraped his knees.

Both you and Alan were startled, turning toward the commotion. The boy had fallen right next to Alan, and when he looked up, Alan’s appearance might have scared him because he only cried louder.

And Alan, clumsy as ever, was just as panicked and nervous at the scene. He crouched down, trying to soothe the child but clearly had no idea what he was doing. You glanced around but didn’t see the boy’s parents anywhere. Maybe he had run off on his own but surely they had to be nearby.

So you crouched down as well, trying to calm him.

But the boy only cried harder, refusing to settle down, and neither you nor Alan knew what to do.

Let’s just say, neither of you had any experience taking care of younger kids.

You looked around again, thinking you might have to take him to a nearby police station, when something caught your eye, a small sweets shop across the street.

“Alan, take care of him for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

You stood up and rushed off before he could even respond, crossing the street and pushing open the shop door. You quickly bought a handful of candies, hoping they might help calm the boy.

But as you were paying, your attention was drawn to a small cake display at the counter.

You returned outside quickly, finding the boy still crying while Alan looked just as lost as before. Walking up to them, you crouched down again to the boy’s eye level, offering him the candies.

As soon as he noticed them, his cries began to quiet. He was still sniffling, his eyes red and watery, but at least he wasn’t wailing anymore.

You watched as Alan carefully wiped away the boy’s tears and even the drool with his handkerchief. It was such an oddly gentle sight. He didn’t seem to mind dirtying it at all.

Eventually, the boy calmed down completely.

You were finally able to bring him to a nearby police station, where his parents soon rushed in. They apologized repeatedly and thanked both of you for helping their child. They even tried to offer you money, but you and Alan both declined.

As you left the station and began walking home again, the two of you let out a long sigh at the same time, so perfectly in sync that it made you both break into soft, silly laughter.

You continued walking and as you neared your house, you passed by a small playground, now empty in the quiet of the night.

“Do you have some free time?” you asked.

Alan raised his brows slightly, unsure of where this was going.

“Well… it’s still early,” he replied.

A smile spread across your face as you reached out and took his hand, pulling him toward a nearby bench. He followed, confused but compliant and sat down beside you.

Even then, he didn’t quite understand what you were doing until you turned toward him and revealed the box you had been holding all this time.

“A birthday without a cake doesn’t count!” you said with a bright smile.

His eyes widened in surprise.

Still stunned, he didn’t even realize when you had bought it. You placed the box between the two of you and carefully opened it, taking out the small cake.

“It was the last one in the shop, so it might not be the prettiest,” you admitted, turning it so he could clearly see his name written in chocolate.

“But you’ll need it to make a wish,” you added softly.

Alan remained frozen in place, clearly caught off guard.

“A… wish?” he asked, sounding even more confused.

You let out a small laugh.

“Alan, have you never made a birthday wish before?”

He shook his head slightly.

Well, it wasn’t that uncommon, not everyone did. But for you, it had become a habit, a quiet ritual, even if it didn’t always mean something.

You took out two small candles and placed them carefully on the cake, then struck a match.

“Then that’s even more reason for you to try.”

You swiped the match, only for the wind to blow it out immediately.

You let out a small groan.

Alan chuckled softly before reaching his hand out. His large palm shielded the space beside you, blocking the wind.

You smiled at him, leaning in slightly as you struck another match. This time, the flame held, and you were finally able to light the candles on the cake.

Should you… sing?

You hesitated for a moment, battling your own thoughts before finally giving in.

You began to sing him a soft, slightly silly birthday song.

It was awkward, words stumbling over each other as embarrassment crept up your neck. You had never celebrated a birthday like this before. Usually, it was with friends or family.

Not like this.

Just the two of you, a small cake, and an empty playground under the night sky.

To fill the silence, you even clapped your hands lightly, trying to ease the tension. Across from you, Alan’s usual indifferent expression slowly softened until it curved into a quiet smile.

You gestured for him to hold the cake, and he did.

The warm glow of the candlelight flickered against his face, painting his features in soft shades of orange. It contrasted with his dark hair, his dark eyes and the quiet night surrounding you both.

And somehow… it made his smile shine even brighter.

His gaze dropped to the cake, then lifted back to you. The tiny flames reflected in his eyes, shimmering like something alive.

It was such an unfamiliar sight.

You had never seen Alan smile like this before.

And for some reason, it stirred something deep inside your chest.

Flustered, you quickly pulled out your phone, trying to hide your reaction.

“Now you have to close your eyes and make a wish before blowing out the candles,” you said.

You snapped a few photos, even recording a short video as he did exactly that, closing his eyes, falling quiet for a brief moment.

And then slowly, his bluish gray eyes opened again.

His lashes fluttered slightly, the warm candlelight brushing softly across his face as he looked at you and spoke.

“Thank you.”

He smiled.

And for a second, you almost dropped your phone.

Thankfully, he couldn’t see your face, not when you were hiding behind the lens of your flip phone.

Because your cheeks were burning.

His smile is so bright and so genuine, had caught you completely off guard.

But… you decided to keep that to yourself.

Some things were better left as secrets.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

After that night, the two of you seemed to grow a little closer.

He began to share more about himself, his future plans and in return, you shared yours.

Alan didn’t plan on going to college. He said he wanted to start working right after graduation to support his family and he already had a few job ideas in mind.

As his friend, you supported him wholeheartedly. And in turn, he encouraged you, hoping you would do well on your entrance exams and get into the college you wanted.

Still… the thought of not being able to see your friends as often once everyone graduated and went their separate ways, it made your chest ache a little.

You would miss them.

And when your gaze lifted from your notebook to Alan’s face, you found his eyes already on you.

He quickly cleared his throat, looking away as he awkwardly changed the subject.

Days passed like that, slipping quietly by until both of you found yourselves in your third year of high school, the final stretch before graduation.

Then one day, he didn’t show up to class.

The teacher asked you to bring his homework to him, and of course, you agreed.

But when you arrived, the one who opened the door was a man you had never met before.

For a moment, you were caught off guard until you noticed the resemblance and connected the dots.

This must be his father.

The man’s eyes widened slightly when he saw you, clearly surprised that a girl had shown up at his doorstep, introducing herself as his son’s classmate and saying she had come to deliver homework.

He was tall and lean, a bit unshaven, looking slightly tired but his smile was wide and warm, his tone friendly as he spoke.

He asked you question after question, how Alan was at school, whether he had many friends, if his grades had improved and whether you were the one helping him.

He even started asking if Alan had a girlfriend, mentioning how he had seen Alan buy-

Before he could finish, you were already overwhelmed.

Luckily, Alan suddenly appeared at the doorway.

His face was flushed red, his nose stuffy and his voice hoarse. He had caught a cold, nothing serious but enough to leave him drained. Even in his half-asleep state, he must have heard his father talking and rushed out to stop him from saying anything more.

He quickly took the homework from you and thanked you for the trouble.

You didn’t mind at all.

His hair was messy, his shirt wrinkled from lying down and his eyes were red and tired.

It must have been a pretty bad cold.

As you were about to leave, Alan handed you a small paper bag.

You noticed the soft pink pattern decorating it, something that felt completely out of character for him. He wasn’t the type to buy things like this.

But he told you it was your birthday gift.

He had missed it before, he said, so he wanted to make up for it, especially after you had celebrated his birthday last year.

You smiled as you accepted it, thanking him softly.

His face flushed even more, though it might have just been the fever.

You didn’t get to talk much longer, because his father soon offered to drive you home, saying he had somewhere to go anyway.

You accepted his kind offer. 

During the drive, he spoke to you from time to time.

He mentioned how Alan rarely brought anyone home, even though he knew his son had friends. Still, he didn’t know much about them or about how Alan was at school.

He said that, because of their situation, Alan had grown up quickly. He learned to take care of himself and had become somewhat withdrawn. Then he added that maybe it was because of him, as a father, that Alan had learned to shoulder everything alone instead of sharing it.

But you didn’t think that was true.

Alan cared deeply about his father, that much was obvious. He wasn’t very talkative, yes but that was just who he was. He didn’t speak unless he felt it was necessary.

And from what you had seen, Alan always put his family first.

His father must have meant a great deal to him.

He understood that his father worked hard to support them, and in return, Alan tried his best to help however he could.

If he didn’t respect his father… he wouldn’t care this much.

So after listening to everything, you finally spoke.

“I actually… don’t know that much about Alan either,” you admitted, hesitating over your words. “But I do know that you really love him… and he loves you too.”

A low and deep laugh filled the car.

You weren’t entirely sure why your words made him smile like that but he did.

And in that moment, you realized something. 

When Alan smiled, he really did resemble his father.

“You’re a good kid,” he said quietly, the smile still lingering on his lips. “Would you take care of my son until he graduates?”

It was such a simple request.

And yet, it felt incredibly heavy like a quiet responsibility settling onto your shoulders.

Maybe it was the way he said it.

Maybe it was the sincerity behind it.

But before you could fully process it. You had already nodded.

“…Yes.”

And his smile only deepened.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

But whatever you might have imagined would come next, you would never have expected that.

As the day of graduation and the college entrance exams drew closer, everybody in class seemed tense, the atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Some students already knew what they would do after graduation, either going straight to work or already holding offer letters and they seemed extremely chill, as they didn’t have to focus on class. You were neither of those, so most of your time was spent focusing on piles of books and notes, studying and practicing again and again. To the point that you tuned out everything else in your life, focusing only on the entrance exam.

Alan understood your tension, so he just let you be. Sometimes, he would make snacks for you so you could relax a bit during break time, and you appreciated that. Because, for some reason, Alan always had this reliable presence that made you want to lean on him just to catch your breath. But of course, you wouldn’t do that.

Not until the day you were having dinner with your family, the television on the news channel, when you dropped your bowl. The sound of porcelain hitting the floor created a loud, sharp clink. Your family was stunned by your reaction, not understanding what had caused it.

And as your eyes remained fixed on the news, you felt your blood run cold. Your eyes widened in a daze as your hands trembled slightly.

Because on the screen, you clearly saw that familiar face.

The man you had met before.

Issei Todoroki.

He went insane and hurt people? That was… really hard to believe. He hadn’t given off the impression of someone capable of that.

But he died?

Your knuckles turned white as you stood up from the dinner table, your family confused and unable to understand your reaction.

You rushed to find your phone, trying to call Alan, but the line was always busy, you couldn’t reach him. You planned to go to his house to check on him but your parents stopped you, saying it was too late to go out and that whatever had happened, the police would handle it.

Unease settled deep in your chest, and you barely slept that night. You kept calling and texting him, but he didn’t answer at all.

The very next day, Alan was absent from school, and whispered rumors began to spread like wildfire about his father.

You went to his house right after school ended, but no one seemed to be home, no matter how many times you rang the doorbell. Some neighbors said that Alan had left the house the night before and hadn’t returned.

Unable to reach him, your unease turned into worry. You went to his workplace and asked the owner, but he also had no idea where Alan was. You tried to ask for Kei’s number, but the line was always busy, or he simply didn’t pick up unknown numbers.

The next day, Alan was still absent from school. Your homeroom teacher announced his father’s death, saying he was in a sensitive time and was handling the funeral. The class was encouraged to visit and pay their respects, expressing their grief for his loss.

You remembered the funeral clearly, Alan in a black suit, with a strange man standing by his side. He was lean and delicate, with pale skin, long hair framing his face.

And Alan?

He looked down the whole time, even when guests patted his shoulders. You could barely see his face but you knew he must have been exhausted. You really wanted to step forward and hug him, to comfort him, maybe. But you weren’t sure if you should or how to. You had never experienced this kind of loss nor did you really know how to comfort someone.

Not wanting to twist the knife deeper into his wound, you hesitated then walked away from him that day.

After the funeral, Alan was absent from school for a week, and he still didn’t answer your calls or texts. You didn’t know why. Maybe he was grieving, mourning and didn’t want anyone to disturb him. You wondered if he was okay, if someone was by his side, taking care of him properly.

Every time you thought about his whereabouts, your stomach twisted.

So you decided to find him, to see where he was, to know what had happened and… to see if there was anything at all you could do to help him, even just a little.

He still wasn’t home. According to the neighbors, he had been gone for about a week so he might never have returned after the funeral.

Only then did you realize how little you actually knew about Alan, and how much you didn’t understand him at all. Aside from Kei, you didn’t know any of his other friends. And even when you asked some of the people he hung out with in class, none of them could reach him either.

So when you visited the restaurant where Alan worked, you saw Kei and almost pleaded and begged the boy to tell you where Alan was.

He hesitated at first, unsure if he should tell you. He definitely knew something, but he was also a sensitive and loyal friend. You could tell from his eyes that he was very conflicted about the whole situation. But seeing how desperate you were to find Alan, he finally gave in with a heavy sigh.

He brought you to that racetrack you had visited long before, the place Alan had told you to never come to or at least not without him.

And in the garage where Alan always worked, there was a small staff room.

That was where you found him.

Beer cans were scattered all around as he lay there, seemingly passed out, unaware of anything happening around him.

And you were taken aback by the scene because you had never seen him like this before. 

So miserable and so desperate. 

You had never even seen Alan drink.

Kei told you that Alan had never drunk alcohol before, he didn’t even know how to. But after what happened to his father, and with the police refusing to give him any further information, even chasing him away, he had become like this. Almost losing his sanity as he kept drinking and locking himself in this room.

Others had tried to talk to him but he didn’t seem to listen. And Kei knew Alan would never want you to see him in this state. But your stubbornness made it impossible for Kei to refuse you. Because deep down, he also hoped, however small that hope might be, that maybe you could talk some sense into Alan.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

“Alan…” you called to the boy lying close to the corner of the wall.

He still had his suit on, lying on the cold stone ground as the smell of alcohol filled the air in the small room.

Narrow and dark and dim.

And maybe… maybe his mind was exactly the same.

He didn’t answer, as he didn’t seem to hear you at first. You then called his name a few more times.

And as if he recognized your voice, you saw his shoulder move stiffly.

His face turned toward the wall, his back against you.

You were unsure what to do so you slowly approached him, a bit more cautious and careful because you were afraid he might chase you away.

“Alan,” you called his name again, as you could tell he was awake now.

Maybe still not in his right mind as he only turned his head slightly.

And in that moment, you saw his eyes slightly open.

Swollen and red, with bloodshot strands running across them. The bluish gray had now lost all its light, and you could see the dark eye bags underneath. 

He looked miserable, hurt and more than that. 

Tears streamed down, some already drying on his face, his long eyelashes damp.

It was the first time you had ever seen Alan like this. He always looked so indifferent around you that you could barely see much expression on his face, let alone see him crying.

And as people say, eyes really know how to tell stories and they cannot lie.

Even though you had never experienced the same thing as Alan, and you weren’t really in a position to say you understood him…

That brief gaze was enough for you to see all the emotions and stories he had hoarded inside himself.

As if his sadness and grief synced right into you the moment you met his eyes.

Your eyes couldn’t help but water as your vision blurred.

You were supposed to be here to comfort him, at least that was what you told yourself.

Because you didn’t know any better.

You didn’t know what else you could do to help him.

And you felt like you were incapable of doing anything but giving him some comfort that you didn’t even know if he wanted.

But his eyes were so vulnerable as they stared straight at you.

And in that moment, you didn’t think at all.

When he turned around to face you, still trying to process and make out that it was you who was there and he might have had questions about why you were there and who brought you. 

But you didn’t give him a chance to ask anything.

Because you had already reached out, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as you hugged him, patting his back and his head, not knowing what else to do but hold him close.

And his body stiffened slightly when he felt your warmth wrap around him.

And maybe, maybe that was exactly what he needed at that moment.

As slowly, you felt his arms move slightly around you as he hugged you tightly back.

You could feel his hot tears fall onto your collar shirt as he buried his face into your shoulder.

You could feel his body tremble and shake with each stifled sound and sob he made.

His hands gripped you so tightly as if you were the last anchor he had at that moment.

Tears also flowed from your eyes as you buried your face against his head.

You didn’t know what to say as you continued to hug him and pat him.

Trying to comfort him, as if you could ease his sorrowful heart that had been broken into pieces.

And each of his cries pierced your heart like needles, like someone pressing a knife into your bare chest, carving and twisting it deeper, each sound driving the blade further into your flesh.

Why did seeing him hurt like this make you hurt along with him?

You wanted to help him but you felt so powerless. Who were you? Who were you to help him and what could you even do?

And even when you tried to give him a shoulder to cry on, you found yourself crying even louder than him.

You were weak, weak and powerless, as it hurt so much, knowing you couldn’t do anything to ease his sorrow, to chase that dark shadow away.

The only thing you remembered from that day was Alan’s tight grip around you. He had fallen asleep in your arms, maybe it had been days since he last had proper rest. He was in a deep sleep yet his eyebrows were still knitted painfully, and you kept patting him, trying to help him sleep better.

But his arms were still wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close, his face pressed against your chest.

He was still crying, even in his sleep.

And you felt bad.

Bad enough that you just let him be and after a while, you fell asleep like that too.

And by the time you woke up, Alan was nowhere to be seen.

He was gone.

The room was empty, except for his blazer draped over your body.

That was the only thing he left behind for you.

Kei was waiting outside to bring you back. You pressed him, asking where Alan had gone, but Kei only gave you one answer.

“If you really think of him as your friend then respect his decision.”

And those words sank deep into you, so deep that they made your heart twist.

But in the end, you accepted it.

You decided to respect Alan’s decision, what he wanted, what he chose. You didn’t want to force your feelings onto him.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

Alan only returned to school a few weeks before graduation.

And even then, he was still in a very bad state of mind.

He would often zone out or collapse into sleep during class. The teachers didn’t make any comments, they understood his situation and chose to let him be.

But because of the nasty rumors spreading around the school, many classmates chose to stay away from him. Some even made cruel remarks that his father was a madman and what if Alan was the same?

You hated hearing those words.

Alan seemed to ignore it all, focusing only on making it to graduation.

But one day, during class duty, someone made another comment about Alan’s father.

And when you heard that, maybe it was anger, maybe it was all the pressure and helplessness from not being able to help your friend. 

But hearing someone talk behind his back like that. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back.

You argued with those students, but they didn’t respond kindly. One of them shoved you too harshly. Even your friends panicked and tried to stop him, but he was that kind of person.

He called you “Hachishakusama”

The old nickname people used to bully you with.

It was disgusting, bringing back all those horrible memories.

As you were about to stand up and argue with him, someone moved faster than you. In the next moment, everyone saw it, Alan lunging at that guy, throwing punch after punch at his face.

And that guy was no different, he punched Alan right back.

It was a horrendous scene. Students screamed and ran out of the classroom, some called for teachers, while others were too stunned to even move.

And you, watching Alan relentlessly beat that guy until blood splattered everywhere, it burned into your mind. It felt like he had become someone else. His eyes were dark, consumed by anger and wrath as he treated the other boy like a punching bag, as if he didn’t care whether he broke his nose or worse.

By the time the teachers arrived to handle the situation, both of them were in horrible condition.

You wanted to check on Alan, but you couldn’t, the faculty prevented any other students from getting involved. You saw that boy’s parents arrive, and not long after, the same man from Alan’s father’s funeral appeared as well.

He must have been Alan’s temporary guardian at the time, since after graduation, Alan would no longer need one and would have to figure out what to do next on his own.

After that, you heard Alan was suspended for a week but he never returned to school after that.

You tried calling and texting him but he still didn’t answer.

You went looking for him but he was nowhere to be found.

And just like that…

Alan Todoroki vanished from your life.

As if he were a page torn out and burned from your story.

You never heard from Alan again after that.

He drifted out of touch with most people in class, and the only friend you knew he had outside of school was Kei. Even then, Kei kept his lips sealed about Alan.

Not long after, Kei also moved away, leaving you unable to find him either.

So you accepted it.

Maybe it was for the best.

Maybe Alan would find a new life, a better one. And along that path, maybe he would grieve, and eventually move on.

You just hoped he didn’t lose himself to the darkness he had fallen into.

You graduated and took your college entrance exam. You were accepted into a college but after two to three years of studying there, you received offers from different academies. Eventually, you decided to leave your current college, study again and take the entrance exam for a new academy.

And maybe. Maybe fate had a twisted sense of humor.

Because you never expected…

That you would reunite with him there.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

“Sorry for bothering you with my task, but we’re really short on staff right now, and this student just arrived on campus, you see.”

You walked side by side with your senior as she embarrassedly handed you the report about the student she was mentioning.

You had been enrolled at Darkwick for about four months now, slowly adapting to life here. You had been sorted into Mortkranken, a very special facility within Darkwick as you were here due to your fascination with anomaly research.

You were assigned to anomaly biology research at Mortkranken, but lately, a new student or more specifically, a ghoul had arrived on campus. He needed a full checkup, as his condition was… a bit special.

It was really odd for a student to enroll halfway through the term and rumors about him spread like wildfire across the campus. Some said he had murdered someone, others claimed he had been imprisoned for a while. Some even said he was an ex-convict with a long criminal record and blood on his hands.

You weren’t sure how much of those rumors was true, and as someone who hated rumors and had been a victim of them, you didn’t like hearing people gossip like that.

So when you were asked to conduct a checkup on this new ghoul, you accepted without thinking too much about it, walking down the hall toward the examination room.

“I know there are many rumors about him but rumors are rumors. You only need to focus on your work, yeah?”

Your senior reminded you. She was shorter than you, when she tried to pat your shoulder, she had to reach up, so she settled for lightly patting your back instead.

You gave her a small nod. “Got it. I’ll make sure to hand you the report before the afternoon.”

“Thank you so much, sweetie, you’re such a lifesaver,” she beamed, already rushing back to her duties. “I’ll leave things here to you. If anything comes up, just call me, yeah?”

She hurried away and you waved lightly at her.

As you looked down at the document in your hand, you flipped through the pages, your eyes landing on a familiar name, making your heart nearly stop.

How long had it been since you had seen that name?

It felt strange, after more than three years, you still remembered him so clearly, yet at the same time, it felt like you remembered nothing at all.

And this person’s last name was different.

So you were probably just being paranoid.

With your other hand, you gripped the handle, opened the door, and stepped inside. Your eyes were still on the paper as you spoke before even properly looking up.

“Hello, I’m assigned to check up on you as the other staff are a bit busy right now.”

Your voice was quiet and slow as you flipped through the document once more, not even noticing the person in the room while reading through the medical record.

“Would you sit by that examination table so I can begin the checkup now, Mr. Alan-”

You finally lifted your gaze as you reached the end of his name.

“Mido…”

Your eyes widened, just as stunned as the man standing in front of you.

Both of you stared at each other in shock, speechless and frozen in place.

You almost dropped the document in your hand when you saw him. You blinked several times, trying to make sure he wasn’t just a hallucination.

And Alan.

He stood there in disbelief, as if the same thoughts were running through his mind.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

It was a very awkward checkup.

He seemed uncomfortable, shifting stiffly but at the same time, he didn’t say anything. As if he were pretending not to know you and that hurt your pride more than you expected.

Because the moment you saw him, there were so many things you wanted to ask.

How was he doing? Where had he been? Was he okay? What had happened?

But you found yourself in no position to ask any of that.

And after reading parts of his medical record, you weren’t even sure if you should.

He didn’t seem like he wanted to share anything about his personal life anyway.

So you played along.

You acted like you didn’t know him, keeping everything strictly professional, conducting the examination, noting everything down in the report.

Throughout the entire process, neither of you spoke a word.

A cold silence settled between you, thick with tension. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look him in the eyes and neither could he.

But you could feel his gaze on you every time you turned away to do something.

And it frustrated you more than you wanted to admit.

You just wanted it to end.

Faster than it should.

And it did end quickly. 

Because the moment you finished the checkup, Alan practically rushed out of the room.

Leaving you alone, the report still half written in your hand.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

Since you and Alan were in different Houses, there was no chance that you and him would cross paths at all.

But the thing was, you still sometimes did, especially when you were running around campus doing tasks.

And classes, yes, classes were where you met him the most and where both of you had to pretend you didn’t know each other.

You would occasionally steal one or two glances at him but he seemed so indifferent about the whole thing that you were unsure what exactly was on his mind. And because of that, you decided to ignore him too.

Vagastrom students tended to get injured a lot, either when practicing with each other or whatever they did in their fight ring.

So sometimes, when your House was short on staff, they would send you to help out. And you would always meet Alan there because he too sometimes got hurt.

But unlike the others, he would always grab a medical kit and then disappear, as if he had seen a ghost, or as if you were going to chase him down the hall. You knew he was trying to avoid you, even though you hadn’t done anything at all. And you were tired of whatever this was, this back-and-forth of trying to avoid each other when you couldn’t anymore.

And your relationship continued to stay stuck in that tense state, until one day.

You were in one of the closet rooms in the main building, organizing some things for other students as the door was wide open.

Then suddenly, you heard someone step in.

You turned around and met Alan, both of you freezing on the spot.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”

He was about to step out as he said that but you saw the door behind him swing shut.

“Wait! Don’t let the door close!”

You shouted but it was too late. The door had already shut tight before you could rush over.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in confusion as his hand grabbed the handle but it didn’t open.

“The door of this closet is broken. The staff hasn’t taken a look at it yet, so we always keep it open to avoid it being shut from the inside,” you explained.

Alan just stood there.

You almost saw how his eyes grew darker at your words because now, you two were stuck in the same narrow space.

Well, it wasn’t that narrow if other students were there but since both you and Alan were tall, it felt a bit cramped for the two of you.

You looked at him awkwardly and he awkwardly avoided your gaze.

You pulled out your phone to text or call someone to help open the door from the outside but this stupid closet just had to block out the signal, as you saw no signal bars on your phone.

You let out a heavy sigh.

Alan also pulled out his phone and maybe he was in the same situation as you, because there were no signal bars either.

And both of you just stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

You were just too tired of this mind game,m so you sat down, leaning against the shelf behind you and spoke up.

“Would you care to join?”

You asked him, as his eyes still flickered with hesitation.

But after a moment, like he was fighting with himself, he finally walked over and sat down right next to you, also leaning against the large shelf behind. The narrow space made his knees brush against your legs slightly, as both of you looked ahead instead of at each other.

The heavy silence once again fell between you two.

But after a moment of quiet, you finally spoke first.

“Why did you change your name?” you asked, still confused about that.

Alan cared about his father, you doubted that he would change his last name just because his father had passed away.

Alan stayed quiet. You could feel him go rigid next to you, his shoulders stiff, even his breath seeming to catch in his throat.

“It’s… a long story,” he answered quietly and you listened closely.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I get that,” you said, trying to be understanding, though you were afraid he might misunderstand your intentions as you shifted your gaze slightly toward him.

Under the dim light, you saw the side of his face, his features no longer as soft as you remembered, they're sharper more defined now.

His jawline was clear and you could see how it clenched with his tense body.

Even his Adam’s apple seemed more prominent, his throat bobbing slightly as he tried to find the right words to answer you.

His bluish gray gaze turned slightly to meet yours.

And in that brief moment, you were startled, as it synced with the image of him in your memories.

Faded but still there, fragments you could somehow recall.

But what was most different about him wasn’t his sharper features or his tall, defined nose bridge.

It was his eyes.

The light, the clear brightness that once lived in them, was gone, replaced by a deep, dark veil. As if they held thousands of untold stories. As if he carried a trace of sorrow and loneliness with him wherever he went.

The atmosphere around him had changed too.

You couldn’t quite tell whether it was a good or bad thing, but it always made people around him nervous and tense. They all seemed to avoid approaching him, aside from his fellow Housemates.

But you weren’t surprised.

Since he had been sorted into Vagastrom, you believed there was a reason and the House suited him.

You just hoped he felt comfortable there. That he had adapted well.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you…” he explained quietly, his gaze still fixed on you. “It’s very… complicated.”

How complicated?

You wanted to ask. You wanted him to tell you, so maybe, just maybe, you could help him.

But you didn’t want to force him either.

So you lowered your gaze, no longer holding his eyes and that’s when you noticed the strip of tattoo on his arm.

Pressed against his skin.

You could see the veins beneath his strong arm, subtly rising as he had rolled up his sleeves.

Only now did you realize just how much he had changed.

Back in high school, you had been a very tall girl. Standing next to Alan, who was also tall, you had been roughly the same height.

But now, he had grown taller than you.

Even though you had grown too.

“Does that have any meaning?” you asked suddenly, the question slipping out almost at random. 

You didn’t want to sit in this narrow space in silence. 

At least keeping the conversation going made the heavy atmosphere feel a little less suffocating.

“…”

His gaze followed yours as he lifted his arm slightly.

“It’s… to remind me of what I’ve done.”

His voice carried a dark edge, low and deep. His gaze flickered with something distant and nostalgic as if recalling memories he wished he could bury.

But they seemed to haunt him, lurking in every corner of his life.

You had tried to dig up some information about Alan, about where he had been, what he had done.

You knew a thing or two.

After graduation, he had worked underground… and eventually ended up joining a gang.

You weren’t sure what exactly he had done there but you knew it wasn’t entirely good or entirely bad.

Because throughout your small investigation, you had found out that Alan moved around a lot, working underground because he was trying to investigate his father’s death, a case that still had no explanation, even now.

You wondered what he had found.

And whether that was the reason he had been imprisoned.

Because you had also discovered that he had been captured after assaulting someone.

But you couldn’t dig any further.

All his files and records were confidential and classified.

And you knew, the moment you enrolled in Darkwick, that if there were things this place didn’t want you to know. 

You shouldn’t go looking.

But you couldn’t help it.

Because Alan’s situation was… special.

He had been allowed to enroll in the middle of the year. Rumors said the school had taken him in but you couldn’t confirm that either.

And asking Alan directly?

That was unlikely to get you any answers.

So you chose not to ask.

At least, not yet.

And perhaps he noticed how you had drifted into your thoughts, because the space fell quiet again.

“How are your parents doing?”

The question came out of nowhere.

Back in high school, Alan had only met your parents once, when they came with you to his father’s funeral.

Other than that, you had never really talked about them with him.

“They divorced. They both have their own families now.”

You answered more casually than usual.

His eyes flickered with a hint of disbelief.

He studied your face, as if trying to tell whether you were telling the truth or lying.

“I’m not lying. It had been going on for a long timebeven before I entered high school. They were just holding things together until I graduated.”

You gave him a clearer and more serious explanation.

He stayed quiet.

“I’m sorry…” he said, as if apologizing for bringing it up.

But you shook your head, stopping him.

“What are you apologizing for? It’s not your fault they broke up.”

Over the years, you had learned to be independent.

And one thing you had come to hate more than rumors. Was hearing apologies like that.

Because it’s either someone did wrong to you or hurt you that they’d say that, and you don’t want to be hurt or be treated wrongly by someone. That’s just an awful feeling, as you somehow detach yourself from most social aspects. It’s just too tiring at times. And it’s also part of the reason why you like to do research and decided to go to Darkwick instead of wasting your time out there without any proper motivation and goal in your life.

And Alan, after a long moment of quiet, finally speaks up again, his hand rubbing the back of his neck slightly.

“I’m glad you’re doing great then.”

He tries to collect the right words to say to you, as if talking to you is like walking on thin ice. You wonder why he’s so cautious when it comes to you, you’re not some delicate flower or something. But yes, you understand why the whole thing between your relationship feels so unnatural. It’s been too long to act normal around each other, especially when you two just cut ties like that.

“Yeah… I indeed do great,” you confirm his words and he finally relaxes a bit as he knows he hasn’t offended you or anything.

“What about you?” you suddenly throw the question at him.

“How have you been, Alan?”

It’s been so long since the last time you called his name. It makes him flinch a bit when he hears that. Even when you just call him so casually, it somehow has a strong effect on him as he looks at you.

“Could be better.”

And that’s the only answer he gives you as you no longer ask anything further.

You wonder if, when he left, he thought about you, but he likely might not have because his focus was mainly on his father’s case. You’d be the same if you were him either way.

But you, you know well that you always remember him. Even if it’s blurry and faded, sometimes your mind can’t help but drift back to those memories you two shared, especially on his birthday that night. You still keep your old phone, the one that has the texts between you two and his pictures.

You’re just unsure why you even keep that but you also keep the blazer he draped over you that day. Every knickknack, every little thing that carries his memory, you keep it all.

Sometimes when you look at them, you wonder if you’re insane, mourning a person who is still alive. But can anyone really blame you at the time? You didn’t know about his whereabouts, whether he was alive or not. You had no idea at all.

“Then make it better here,” you answer him, your eyes still on him.

He is a bit caught off guard by your words, and you’re not even sure why you say that. But you hope he can at least… enjoy his life in some way.

You are in no position to tell him to move on. So you try, at least, to make him loosen up a bit when he’s here. On this campus.

Alan takes your words a bit more seriously than you thought, as he seems to let them sink in.

“I hope you can have your peace of mind, Alan,” you finally speak what’s on your mind to him.

He just stares at you, his silver earrings glistening under the dim light when he shifts his head a bit.

“I will try,” he slowly speaks out as you look at him from the corner of your eyes when your gaze falls ahead once again.

And before you two can even say anything further, the door clicks open slightly as some students seem to need to use the closet and open it from outside.

“Ah! You’re here. I didn’t see you come back from the task, I was worried.”

It’s one of your housemates as she speaks up with worry and concern.

You stand up and rush to her as you keep the door open.

“Yeah, I accidentally locked myself inside. And there’s no signal in here, so I couldn’t call you,” you explain quickly to her as she beams out a small, relieved smile.

But then her smile fades when she looks behind you and sees Alan standing, looming over.

“Ah- you two got stuck in here?!”

She seems freaked out, and you don’t even know whether you should explain.

“He just happened to need to use it too. Let’s return to our work,” you say to her as you pull her away from the door while Alan also steps out.

He doesn’t say anything as he just walks away, while you also leave with your housemate. The girl still looks dumbfounded and you don’t say anything further, just drag her away.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

To be honest, your relationship with Alan didn’t change much after that day but it did improve in some aspects. He stopped avoiding you, and he let you help him out, as you also let him help you.

It just becomes so rigid when you two are around each other but at least you can keep it professional.

At least, that’s what you think, that your relationship with him will always remain that way until you both become second years.

And then some events occur in Darkwick right on campus, resulting in a lot of bad practices and bad blood between each house.

You remember that day vividly, when everything was in chaotic collapse. Every student seemed panicked as they ran around asking for help. Some ghouls even went as far as fighting each other.

And as a Mortkranken student, of course you had to step in to help as support in this chaotic time. At the time, you were the captain of the house and you, along with other housemates, ran around helping injured students and evacuating those who were near the fights.

But in that moment, you felt what powerlessness truly felt like. Because of the shortage of staff and resources, along with people continuing to get hurt, you felt like everything was crumbling around you as you didn’t even know the whereabouts of all your other friends.

All you could focus on was helping as many people as you could.

But in that chaos, a student, more specifically, a ghoul from another house, stepped in and helped lead and organize your house. Following his instructions actually helped you out a lot.

You know the worst part isn’t your house, you’re still in the safe place but it’s not so good for the other Houses. You wonder if Alan is safe and what’s going on over there.

When everything is finally under control and every injured student is safe and accounted for, you finally breathe out and loosen up a bit, exhausted and tired.

But when you see Alan arrive at Mortkranken, blood all over him, you don’t even know if it’s his or someone else’s or if he’s even injured, how badly he’s hurt. You immediately rush to his side to check him out.

But the man just stands there quietly as he reaches his hand out to grip your wrist so tightly, stopping you. When you lift your gaze slightly to look at him, you see something in his eyes, that same gaze he gave you in the garage years before…

It’s full of sorrow but laced with even more concern and worry as he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace. You are confused but in that moment, you feel relief that he’s whole and well as you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly back.

You just want to feel his warmth and how loud his heartbeat is in his chest, knowing he’s still alive right in front of you, he’s not an illusion or anything.

Alan passes out after that. He is indeed injured and has lost quite a lot of blood, almost freaking you out. Fortunately, he is taken care of just in time, and nothing truly bad happens.

But the events on this island, on this campus, with chaos everywhere, indeed scare you in many ways. As you sit by his bedside, you think about a lot of things, about every memory in your life.

And you come to understand one thing: if living on this island means you don’t know when your last day will be, then you’d rather not do anything you’d regret.

And what you regret most now is that back then, you weren’t courageous or patient enough, enough to reach out to Alan, to hold even a fragment of his memories as he seemed to vanish from your life just like that.

So when Alan wakes up, you don’t hesitate at all to tell him exactly what’s on your mind, and how you don’t want to let him go like before.

He seems to share the same feeling, maybe even earlier than you as you feel his large hand wrap around yours.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

After the Clash, Darkwick implements a new rule for the next year: every captain and vice-captain must be ghouls. And so, you pass down your role as captain to that fellow ghoul who stepped up during that event to help your house.

He has a lot to learn, but he’s hardworking and takes pride in himself, you believe he’ll do well with proper guidance after all.

As you stand by the railing, looking at the distant city lights, the night wind breezes through your hair. You suddenly feel something soft and warm sensation draped over your shoulders. You turn and look up, meeting those familiar bluish gray eyes.

“It’s cold outside at night,” he speaks, a bit disapproving of how thinly you’re dressed tonight.

You only let out a smile as you grab the coat around your shoulders and put it on properly.

After going out with Alan, you occasionally have some R&R permits to take night drives with him. Let’s just say you two are trying to make the best out of it, since Alan is the new captain of Vagastrom now. He’s going to be busy later on, so you need to take your time before he gets wrapped up in those captain duties.

He then hands you a can of beer, and you take it from him. You crack it open alongside him as you raise your can slightly, gesturing for him to clink his with yours. The man lets out a small smile as he does what you want.

“Congratulations to you, Alan Mido, on becoming the new captain of Vagastrom,” you speak in a cheerful tone as he lets out a chuckle.

You both take a sip of your beer and breathe out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

It’s been a long time since you two were able to loosen up like this, and then he speaks up.

“Was that really a good idea for you to step down from being captain?” he asks and you shrug your shoulders slightly.

“Well, I think Yuri can handle it well, and he also has his assistant as his vice-captain,” you answer, a bit more proudly and confidently than you should. “And… being a captain has never really suited me… I only took the role because everybody voted for me at the time.”

You explain quietly as Alan listens to you closely.

“But Alan, you should worry about yourself, you’ve got lots of work to do now that you’ve become a captain, you know?” you tease a bit as the man shifts slightly beside you.

His large hand rubs the back of his neck as he sighs. He’s clearly not used to this whole new rule. And because Tohma, one of his fellow ghoul friends in Vagastrom, decided to transfer to a different house, he’s now alone to handle Vagastrom as captain.

And recently, there are also some first years enrolled. As Alan explains to you about the two of them, he calls them “troublemakers” but you’ve met them, “gremlins” might be more fitting.

“You should loosen up a bit,” you say as Alan’s gaze fixes on you, glimmering under the dim streetlamp.

“Maybe these new boys can help you out a lot.”

He’s the type to handle everything himself and you know it will take time for him to open up and accept help. But seeing how the new ghouls are, you have some hope that they’ll be able to break down this man’s isolated brick wall.

Sensing your gaze on him, his eyes flicker back to you once again as he raises an eyebrow slightly.

“What is it?” he asks, and you shake your head with a small smile.

“Nothing… it just kind of reminds me of back then.”

You’ve lost count of how many times you and Alan walked home in the evening after hanging out at his old part-time job.

You also lost count of how some nights seemed colder than others. 

You don’t remember exactly what you two talked about on the way home. Some memories fade and some you’re not even sure actually happened at the time. Because human memory is strange, isn’t it?

Sometimes you believe you remember something so vividly, but in reality, it’s far from what actually happened.

So if you ask yourself whether you miss him, then maybe yes, you do. Because even as time flies by and years pass, your mind still sometimes unconsciously drifts back to the memories between you and him, and it makes you wonder how he has been. You wonder if he’s safe and well or if he’s gone down some path you don’t want to imagine. But soon, you sweep away those consuming thoughts because grieving for someone who is still alive just doesn’t seem right in your place.

But if you ask yourself whether you remember him, you don’t think you could answer that question.

Because what exactly do you remember about him, when the things you two shared were pretty much surface level? And at the time when he might have needed someone by his side the most… you don’t think you were of any help to begin with.

Of how shallow your relationship with him was, more than classmates but not close enough to truly know each other. It’s as if, back then, you both built a thin wall between each other, too afraid to cross whatever invisible line there was. It was all just your own imagination, there wasn’t anything actually stopping you from stepping into each other’s lives.

And maybe if either of you had had enough courage or had been more proactive, you might have been able to cross that line and erase it between you. To open up and understand each other more.

But neither of you did that. And in your mind, you can’t exactly tell whether you regret it or not. Yes, you regret not being able to help him. But you’ve talked to Alan about that before and he claimed that no one could have done anything in that situation. You were both just… kids, in some way, at the time.

But you don’t regret not knowing him more, because back then, you truly believed you had more time than that, more time to get to know each other, more time to stay friends, more time to live freely and carelessly.

But fate is twisted like that. It had already decided that you and him would just be two people whose paths briefly crossed. At least, that’s what you both thought until meeting again in Darkwick.

Yes, fate really is twisted.

Because it feels like there is so much unresolved between you and him, yet at the same time… nothing at all.

Alan owes you no explanation, and you know that. But why does it always feel so heavy when he’s unable to share his side of the story with you?

It isn’t because you want to pry. But more of…

The fact that he can’t share it with anyone just makes you remember that day, when he cried in your arms, with such sorrow in his eyes. It makes you see that vulnerable, fragile image of him in front of you. Even now, when he stands tall and strong, looking more resilient than you remember, all you can see is that boy, he was lost and hurt, swallowed by his own grief. And you know that at the time, he must have felt powerless, just like you.

It creates such a contrast with how he carries himself now, making most people view him as a tough guy. And knowing Alan, you know he is strong…

But that doesn’t change the fact that he was still a teenage boy back then. What exactly could either of you have done in that moment, without any help or guidance?

You admit you’ve always thought that Professor Dante looked really familiar, like a face you wouldn’t forget. You were surprised when he appeared on campus and you wondered what ties he had with Alan and his father. You did press and ask about it, but the man kept his lips sealed, even claiming it wasn’t your business to be involved. And that happened before Alan even arrived on campus.

You didn’t really hide the fact that you snooped around his background. But Alan didn’t seem to mind. He just told you to be careful, because getting too entangled with him would pull you too deep into this mess and it wouldn’t be good for you.

You hear him softly call your name, worry laced in his tone as he notices you spacing out. Your gaze lifts to meet his face as you wonder…

If you two really live in separate worlds, is that why he doesn’t want you to get involved with him?

But the universe let you reunite once again. Then it should know it can’t divide you two right?

And Alan, you know he lives in fear of losing someone. Someone he cherishes and cares for. And so he chooses to keep most people outside the walls he’s built around himself, because he can’t bear the feeling of losing anyone else.

But do you two really need another loss to understand the value you hold in each other’s lives?

So you start to get to know each other again. This time, you have time. But now, you treat it with more care and respect, you don’t waste it tiptoeing around each other. And because you’re no longer just high school teenagers, of course you both understand where and how to begin.

You know Alan picked up drinking and smoking and you did too, though you’re not quite a heavy drinker like him. As for smoking, Alan was surprised when you first asked him for a cigarette, claiming it wasn’t good for your health.

You told him there are many things he doesn’t know about you. You picked up the habit in college, being a researcher was far more stressful than you had expected. You smoked less after coming to Darkwick and tried to quit but on occasion, you still craved it out of habit.

Though Alan isn’t any better. He admits he used to smoke a lot, even when he first arrived on campus. But he’s been trying to cut down and slowly quit, especially after seeing that you managed to stop for almost a year.

And knowing how hardworking and patient Alan is, you believe he’ll be able to do it. Though it’s a stressful process, letting go of a habit that’s followed you for years is never easy.

So those night drives become his other way of blowing off steam when he can’t smoke.

ღ .:*·ღ .:*·ღ

“What’s on your mind?” His question drags you back to reality, his eyes still on you.

His hand caresses the side of your face as the soft breeze messes with your hair, teasing the strands, and Alan gently tucks them behind your ear.

You notice that very subtle habit, he always seems to stare at you very deeply when you speak to him. Others might feel a bit pressured under that kind of gaze while talking, but you know him. It’s just his way of listening closely. And to be honest, you enjoy his attention and focus on you.

Because you’re no different when it comes to staring at him.

As if you’re both trying to carve and mark each other’s features and memories into the back of your minds so you’d never forget one another.

But at the same time, there’s a sense of nostalgia, you both never got to see each other grow into adulthood. So staring becomes a way to fulfill that quiet, lingering regret you both share.

“You’re taller,” you answer, which isn’t exactly what’s on your mind but it’s easier to say.

He looks a bit dumbfounded by your response because he knows it’s not what you were really thinking. But he doesn’t call you out on it, only replying a bit awkwardly,

“You’re taller too.”

You laugh at his words, and he seems a little embarrassed. He still finds it awkward to admit things out loud, especially when, in his eyes, you look so beautiful when you smile. It tugs at his heart, as if the walls he’s built around himself begin to tremble and crumble with each echo of your laughter.

“And more handsome too,” you add, your tone a little more teasing, a little more flirtatious.

One thing you’ve learned about Alan is that he doesn’t know how to handle compliments. He always grows embarrassed and flustered at any praise or affirmation you give him.

And even though his shyness is subtle, you can always tell when he turns his face away, the pink tint creeping to the tips of his ears always gives him away.

You expect him to react the same way this time, too embarrassed to meet your eyes, turning away, clearing his throat, changing the subject.

He doesn’t this time.

Instead, his touch becomes even gentler. You can still feel his fingertips grazing your skin softly, almost tickling you as a few strands of hair drift in the night breeze.

“You’ve also become more beautiful.”

The words come out suddenly and you almost gasp.

You freeze, stunned by his unexpected honesty. He’s got you in a chokehold, you have to admit because Alan rarely says things like that.

Truthfully, you don’t need Alan to compliment you to know what’s on his mind, because his eyes cannot lie. The way he looks at you every time is enough for you to see how he views you, as if you’re some kind of goddess. Sometimes, he even spaces out while you’re talking because he’s too busy admiring your features.

And now, when he suddenly says it out loud, you’re the one who becomes flustered.

You can feel the heat creeping up from the back of your neck to your face as you move slightly away from his hand.

“Where did you learn that?” you murmur, avoiding his gaze, only to hear a low chuckle beside you.

IIt’s low and deep, rumbling in his chest yet seeming to radiate into the air, his presence alone enough to warm your space.

“Do I really need to learn anything when my girlfriend is this pretty?” he asks and you grip your beer a bit tighter.

You almost drop it, quickly placing the can on the railing as you turn to him, meeting his gaze, which slightly twinkles when he smiles. 

For a moment, you’re certain that if you tried to speak, nothing but incoherent babble would come out.

You wonder if those first years he mentioned had anything to do with this.

He seems to enjoy your reaction, though you don’t find it funny. Maybe you’re just the same, not really used to compliments being thrown your way. Or maybe it’s because it’s him who says it. Because if it were anyone else, you couldn’t care less. But because it’s Alan, you can’t help but feel like this.

Because you look beautiful in his eyes, just as he looks beautiful in yours and that realization draws a soft laugh from you.

“Then I guess I should get used to that,” you say, finally composing yourself.

You step closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

Alan looks a bit stunned by your response but soon lets out a quiet smile. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into a gentle embrace.

You rest your head against his shoulder, and his large hand comes up to pat the back of your head softly, as if you’re something fragile, like one wrong move might break you.

But you’re not that fragile, obviously.

It’s just Alan being Alan.

He was always hesitant when it came to physical affection. At first, he wouldn’t even dare to hold your hand, you had to be the one to initiate it, to reassure him, slowly helping him loosen up around you.

“What time is it?” you suddenly ask as your gaze lingers on the side of his face.

From this angle, you can press your face against his broad shoulder. But you can also see his face a bit more clearly, his jawline when he tilts his head slightly to check his phone, his tall nose, and his deep eyes.

“It’s almost midnight. Should we go back?” he asks as he presses a soft kiss to your hair.

You shake your head quietly as you step away from his embrace.

“There’s actually something I’d like to show you first.” You take his hand in yours as his large palm wraps tightly around yours, leading him to a nearby bench as you sit him down.

“Wait for me a bit,” you speak softly as you press a gentle kiss on his forehead.

And just like that, he melts under your touch and words, obediently staying still even though he’s so curious about what you have to show him. You seem giddy and excited, he can tell by the way you walk to his car and reach for something. Quickly, you return to his side with a paper bag in your hand.

He just sits there quietly as you settle next to him. With a small space between you two, his eyes never leave your face, not until you carefully take out a birthday cake and place it between you, and he’s able to process what you’re planning.

You take out your phone as the time and date appear on the screen:

0:00

25th April.

“Happy birthday to you, Alan.” You beam a smile as you speak to him.

He doesn’t react at first because he’s still processing things. His birthday has long since become something unimportant to him. He forgets it most of the time, especially when day and night feel all the same to him and when he always buries himself in work.

He wonders how you still remember, or if you have always remembered. Or why you didn’t tell him earlier. Because you understand him? How he would treat it like a normal day, as always. How he wants to avoid celebrating the day ever since his father passed away.

He regrets most the day he told you that he didn’t really care if he couldn’t celebrate his birthday with his dad because they would have more years together. He feels like it’s karma for being ungrateful or taking it for granted, that the universe decided to take it from him for good.

And yes, he also kept his old phone, where there are some old texts from you and all the pictures you took of him so randomly. What he regrets more is that he didn’t keep many pictures of you, as sometimes he’s afraid your face will blur in the consuming, draining life he has.

But he’s glad that he was able to recognize you immediately the moment you two met again, and that you didn’t seem to have forgotten him either. He finds that feeling to be selfish, he doesn’t want you to live uneasily, thinking about some passing person in your life.

But whenever he remembers all those memories you shared with him, even if it’s not much, it feels like they fill half of his life. And somewhere deep down inside, he doesn’t want you to forget him or at least, forget those memories.

So when you light up the candles on the cake, suddenly the moment seems to sync back to when he was in high school. It was also a night like this, with a soft breeze in the air. You face him as you clumsily light those candles with such care and delicacy.

How you smile when you awkwardly sing the “Happy Birthday” song to him and clap your hands. And how you hold up your phone to take some pictures of him, telling him to make a birthday wish. And how you two shared the small cake after that.

He remembers that well and clearly, as if it has been permanently burned into the back of his mind.

He wonders if you remember it as well as he does, because right now you just give him that smug smirk as you speak up.

“I want to give you my blessing first, Alan.” You lift up the cake and make him hold it as he carefully takes it in his hands.

“Congrats on you becoming the captain again and I’m hoping that you’d be happy this year, and all the years after that.” You speak so steadily that even you are surprised by your tone.

And Alan lowers his gaze to the flickering candle flames on the cake. His features seem softer under the warm, dim light and deep in his eyes, you see that shining dot glimmer once again.

And when his gaze lifts to meet yours, his bluish gray eyes just seem to pierce right into your soul. The smile never leaves his lips as he speaks up.

“Should I make my wish now?”

he asks with a soft teasing note in his voice.

“Of course you have to!” You quickly answer as he chuckles softly.

Slowly, he closes his eyes. You are unsure what wish he has made, but it takes a moment before he opens his eyes again. The tenderness and warmth in his gaze just seem to grow even deeper when he blows out the candles.

“Ah, I forgot, don’t tell me your wish like last time! It’s supposed to be secret to come true.” You stop him even though he hasn’t said anything.

And seeing your reaction, his smile just grows deeper and wider. And in that brief second, Alan in front of your eyes seems to sync with the image of that high school boy you were once friends with.

That rare boyish smile he has, his face leans closer to you as your gaze stays on him.

“My wish has already come true.” His voice is low and deep as it laces with the warm breath between the two of you.

You don’t know what his wish is, but you prefer it that way.

You don’t say anything. Instead your hand slides to the back of his neck, fingers slipping slightly between the short threads of his hair as you pull him a little closer to you.

Pressing your lips against his, his breath just seems to grow even deeper and warmer under your caress and touch. Holding his face gently between your hands, you feel the warm, rough texture of his skin on your palms and fingertips as you graze him so tenderly.

You kiss him with careful fear. Tender and delicate as if he could disappear under your touch. Fragile and illusion, like the flickering flame of the candle.

You feel his lips capture you with just as much softness. He always has that habit of kissing your lower lip between his lips first then carefully deepening the kiss with care and caution.

Feeling his warmth and softness around you is a very strange experience and no one would have known that a tough, rugged, sturdy man like Alan could be so sweet and caring. And you don’t plan to let most people know. Because yes, you’re somehow jealous and just want to keep him all to yourself.

Your own teddy bear.

You pull away softly and open your eyes. Meeting his tender gaze, you rub your nose gently against him, earning a warm laugh from the man, and that seems to smooth out all his spikes and prickles as you feel him relax under your touch, how he almost sighs in satisfaction as you laugh.

“I hope that every one of your wishes will always come true.” You press your lips softly against the side of his face. “And I’d be able to see that too,” kissing his cheek so softly.

And those words sound like a blessing in his mind. Your gentleness melts his heart, peeling away all of his layers, tearing down all the walls he built for himself as he lets out a low, deep chuckle while his smile stays wide. He smiles a lot tonight, much more than most of his life combined and he can’t help it. His heart feels so warm right now because of the love and affection you have held dear until you were able to give them to him. He feels loved and worthy of love again just by the way you softly touch him and by the softness and genuineness in your tone.

This time, he doesn’t waste another second. His free arm wraps around you as he pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time as you can feel all the love and affection he pours out on you under the soft night sky.

Because for him, the moments shared with those he cares for and loves are what he wishes for the most.

-The End-