Eyes on the Guilt of the past.

Chapter 1:Eyes on the Guilt of the past.

Yuuta sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, the air thick with the remnants of her thoughts. The room was clean but lifeless, like a stage after the final act, with only an empty glass on the table and the faint scent of old books lingering in the air. She had done it. She had faced Renji, finally let go of something she held onto for far too long.

So why did it feel like her chest was being crushed?

Her fingers traced the rim of her glass absentmindedly.

The consequences of her choices were starting to unfold.

Renji had forgiven her, but forgiveness didn't erase what had already happened. Her past wasn't some ink stain she could scrub out-it was carved into her, into Renji, into Tokusake Ren.

Her mind wandered back to that name, that person. Tokusake Ren.

The way he looked at her in the past, how his voice used to shake when he spoke about the future he wanted with her. It was wrong. It had always been wrong. But at the time, she didn't stop it.

And now?

She sighed, running a hand through her hair before standing up. She needed air.

.

.

.

.

.

The streets were alive. Evening lights flickered, painting the pavement in shades of gold and shadow. Yuuta walked without direction, her hands buried in the pockets of her coat, eyes distant.

'The world moves on, even when you don't.'

Then, she saw them.

Across the street, near a small bookstore, stood Tokusake Ren and Shimo.

Shimo was laughing-soft, bright, unburdened. And Tokusake Ren...he was smiling. A real, genuine smile. Not the sharp-edged, half-hearted grins he wore when he was trying to hide something.

For a moment, Yuuta just watched.

She had always known this moment would come. He would heal. He would move forward. Without her.

And that was okay.

She smiled, the kind of smile that carried both relief and something quieter-a farewell, maybe. She turned to walk away.

But then-

"Sensei."

She stopped. Slowly, she turned back. Tokusake Ren was already making his way towards her.

Yuuta blinked. He had left Shimo behind, giving her a small nod before walking over. The younger girl excused herself with an understanding smile, as if she knew this conversation was inevitable.

Yuuta exhaled, schooling her face into something neutral. Not distant. Not soft. Just...neutral.

"Tokusake," she greeted.

He gestured towards a nearby café. "Let's talk."

.

.

.

.

.

The café smelled of warm bread and roasted coffee beans, a contrast to the quiet tension settling between them. Yuuta stirred her drink absentmindedly while Tokusake Ren took a sip of his, his expression unreadable. Calm. Completely, effortlessly calm.

Like he had already walked past the storm.

"How have you been?" he asked. His tone was casual, like he was asking about the weather.

Yuuta huffed a small, amused breath. 'This little bastard.'

"Still drinking coffee this late?" Ren asked, watching as Yuuta took a slow sip.

"Still asking obvious questions?" she replied, setting the cup down with a soft clink.

He huffed a quiet chuckle. "Fair."

A brief silence settled between them, comfortable but fragile, like a bridge made of glass.

"I heard you traveled a bit," he said after a moment.

"Yeah. Needed a change."

"Did it help?"

She tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering toward the street outside. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

He didn't push further.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming idly against the table. "You still give lectures?"

"Unfortunately," she sighed. "Though I think my students would say they're the ones suffering."

He smirked. "So nothing's changed."

"Not really," she admitted. "Except I drink more coffee now."

He gestured toward her cup. "I can tell."

Another pause. This time, the weight of old conversations hung in the air, unspoken but present.

"You look tired," she noted, studying him.

"So do you."

"Guess we're both doing great, then."

"Thriving," he deadpanned.

She huffed a quiet laugh. "You still play?"

"Not as much. Study keeps me busy."

"Figures."

"What about you?"

She exhaled slowly. "Existing."

He nodded. "Same."

Their conversation drifted between topics-his work, her students, the weather, trivial things that didn't matter but somehow did. It almost felt normal.

Almost.

Then, after a lull, she glanced at him. "What are you really here for, Ren?"

His gaze was steady, unreadable. "The Gathering."

She frowned slightly. "You don't have any connections there."

"I know what to do." His voice was calm, assured.

It was such a simple answer, but Yuuta felt something heavy behind it. She held his gaze for a moment longer before sighing. "Three weeks from now, huh?"

"Yeah."

She didn't ask anything more. She didn't need to.

Then—

"Sensei."

She stiffened. It had been a long time since he called her that in this tone. Soft, but firm.

"Let's talk about us."

.

.

.

.

.

There it was. The thing they had been stepping around, pretending wasn't there.

Yuuta set her coffee down. "You want to talk about it?"

Tokusake nodded. "I think we should."

A beat of silence. Then-

"It was never love," she said, voice quiet. "I let something happen that should've never happened. I regret it, Tokusake. I regret it all."

He didn't react right away. He just looked at her, his expression still unreadable.

Then, he exhaled. "I used to hate you."

Yuuta froze.

"I hated you for a good amount of time," he continued, voice eerily steady. "You made me believe in something that wasn't real. And when I lost you, I lost everything."

A breath.

"But I don't hate you anymore."

She blinked.

He stirred his coffee. "I think, for a that amount of time, I wanted you to suffer. I wanted you to feel the same pain I felt." He took another sip, as if this was just another casual conversation. "But now...I don't really care anymore. You helped me change. You made me realize that being a adult in this world is better than being a child."

Yuuta didn't know how to respond.

So he spoke again.

"You don't have to feel guilty anymore, Sensei. The past is the past. I'm here now, and so are you. But we're not the same people anymore."

Yuuta swallowed. "You moved on."

He nodded. "I did."

A pause. Then he smiled-small, faint, but real. "And you should, too."

Yuuta exhaled a shaky breath she didn't even know she was holding.

She looked down at her hands, then back up at him. "I think...I think I will."

Tokusake chuckled. "Good."

A silence stretched between them, but this time, it wasn't heavy. It wasn't suffocating.

Just...peaceful.

For the first time in months, Yuuta felt like she could finally breathe.

And for the first time in months-

Tokusake Ren was just a person from her past.

.

.

.

.

.

They stepped out of the café, the evening air crisp and cool.

Yuuta looked up at the sky, feeling something light in her chest. She turned to Tokusake. "This is the last time we'll have this kind of talk, isn't it?"

He smiled slightly. "Yeah."

A beat.

Then, softly-

"Goodbye, Tokusake. See you in the next class."

He nodded, stepping back. "Goodbye, Sensei. See you in the next class as well."

And just like that-

They walked separate ways.

One towards the past. One towards the future.

And Yuuta?

For the first time, she chose the future.