Chapter 40: Young Rens Feeling For Her.
The next day, I sat at my desk, staring out the window.
The morning light spilled over the rooftops, soft and golden, like something from a forgotten dream.
I should be used to this time-traveling thing by now.
But I'm not.
Every morning feels like slipping into borrowed clothes.
They fit, but they're not mine. Not yet.
I tried to focus on the textbook in front of me, but the words blurred, folding into the edges of my mind. Because all I could think about was her.
Mahiru Yuuta.
My teacher.
The smile that lifted me in my lowest days. The calm in her voice when the world felt cruel. The way she looked at people-not like students, but like they mattered. Like I mattered.
My heart beat too loud in my chest. I didn't know what was louder-my fear of what might happen, or the hope that, just this once, things might go differently.
Then-
She entered the room.
That voice, that presence-suddenly the chaos in my head turned quiet.
"Toku-chan, could I have a moment of your time?"
I nodded quickly, startled by how dry my mouth felt.
She gestured for me to follow her toward the back of the classroom. Every step felt heavier than it should have.
This is it. Right?
I had rehearsed so many versions of this moment in my head. Some bold. Some quiet. All ending in a blur of maybes and regrets.
She stopped, turned to me. Her expression was gentle, but serious.
"There's something I need to tell you. It's been on my mind for a while now, and I can't keep it to myself any longer."
My heart leapt into my throat.
Was she-?
"I actually needed some help with the papers after school... well, is it okay?"
I nearly collapsed.
A quote from a voice inside me—sounding eerily like my older self—returned with cynical precision:
〔Keep your expectations on the ground when it comes to women.〕
And he was right. This bastard was right.
"...Yes, Sensei," I replied as calmly as I could manage.
We turned to walk back to the front of the room.
All eyes were on us.
The room had the kind of silence that wasn't actually silent-just tightly stretched curiosity in the air. I sat down, flipping through my book just to have something to do with my hands.
Then-
"Sensei wanted help with the papers, right?"
I blinked. Hard.
I turned.
Yamashiro Ren.
She hadn't even been part of the conversation.
"...How did you know that?" I asked.
Even Sensei's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Yes... how did you...?"
Yamashiro didn't look at us. She just kept staring out the window like it was beneath her to even explain.
"Your voice cracked. That was a dead giveaway," she said flatly.
"And the moment you entered the room, it got... monotonous," added Tarazune, not looking up from his worn copy of a book no one knows where he got. "That usually means you're about to ask a student for help."
"Hey. I was gonna say that." Yamashiro snapped.
"Well, you snooze, you lose," Tarazune shrugged.
"And you piggybacked off my deduction."
"Excuse me, no. That was original thought. You, however, looked at me, read my expression, and just stole the conclusion."
"Eh~ Look at you. Dreaming again. Careful-too much dreaming invites nightmares."
"Oh I know. And when that nightmare shows up, you'll be the one screaming the loudest."
"My, my. Using me as your hypothetical fear response? How adorable."
"Wha-!"
*SLAM!*
Sensei's palm hit the board, and the screen behind it nearly cracked.
"Silence." Her voice rang out like a whip. "If the two of you say one more word, I will deduct 20 points from both of your exam scores."
They immediately shut up.
I watched them, dumbfounded.
They hadn't even looked at each other when they deduced it. They hadn't exchanged a glance. And yet-somehow-they saw through Sensei like glass.
How?
That chemistry... that natural back-and-forth... It almost made me forget why I was feeling so off.
But then again-maybe that's what scared me.
Everyone around me was living in this timeline the way they were supposed to. As students. As teens. As themselves.
Me?
I was a broken man pretending to be a boy.
.
.
.
.
.
.
That afternoon, I told my parents I'd be late.
They raised eyebrows at first-"Sensei asked you for help?"-but they let it go after some awkward hesitation. I could tell they didn't know what to make of it. Neither did I.
Back at school, the hallway lights were dimmer now. The sun had started to fall. Shadows stretched long across the floor.
Sensei and I sat in the quiet teacher's room, alone.
She looked calm. Composed. The usual warmth in her had been tucked behind a curtain of professionalism. Her lips were slightly pursed, eyes unreadable.
I missed her smile.
And I hated that I missed it.
"Anything you wanted to say?" she asked, glancing at me. One brow raised.
I realized I'd been staring at her too long, too quietly.
My cheeks burned. "No... nothing."
But that wasn't true.
Something had been building.
A pressure I couldn't release.
A truth I'd buried for years.
Maybe even decades.
This feeling.
It wasn't just a relic from youth.
It had followed me into adulthood.
It survived death.
And now it was here, with me again.
Alone in a room filled with silence and possibility.
I opened my mouth before I could stop myself.
"...Sensei. There's something I need to tell you."
She blinked slowly, her lips curling into a soft, curious smile. "Yes?"
I swallowed.
The words burned in my chest. I didn't know how they'd sound once I let them out. I didn't know what I wanted from her. But I knew I needed her to hear it.
Even if it broke something.
Even if it changed everything.
"I..."
My voice was low. Cracked at the edges.
"I have feelings for you. More than just as a student to a teacher. It's something I tried to ignore, but it's become impossible to deny."
There.
There it was.
The truth.
My truth.
Hanging in the air, trembling like a wire in the wind.