Year 1954
The building stood like a cathedral of knowledge.
Its stone walls rose high into the pale English sky, worn smooth by decades of rain and footsteps, carrying the quiet dignity of an institution that had seen generations pass through its doors. Tall windows caught the morning light, reflecting it like watchful eyes. A clock tower loomed above the entrance, its hands moving steadily forward, indifferent to the private histories of those who entered beneath it.
The girl stood still before the iron gates, her small suitcase resting beside her shoes.
For a moment, she did not move.
Students passed her—laughing, chatting, brushing past without notice—yet she remained frozen, as if time itself had paused just for her. The air smelled faintly of autumn leaves and inked paper. Somewhere inside the building, a bell rang, sharp and commanding.
This was it.
Her first day.
She lifted her gaze again, taking in the immense structure, and something warm stirred in her chest—not fear, not excitement, but awe.
So… this is where I'll study psychology, she thought.
The word itself carried weight. Psychology. The study of the mind. Of people. Of why they love, why they break, why they survive.
Her fingers tightened around the handle of her suitcase.
"This place is…" she murmured under her breath.
Majestic.
And then—without warning—his image surfaced.
Teufel.
The way he used to look at the world, as if he were dissecting it silently. The way his eyes darkened when he thought too deeply. The way he listened—not to words, but to what lay beneath them.
Her chest tightened.
I wish he could see this, she thought. I wish he were here.
The warmth faded, replaced by a dull ache.
She lowered her head slightly, allowing herself just one second of weakness. Just one quiet moment where the world could not see how much she missed him.
Then she inhaled.
Straightened her back.
And stepped through the gates.
The entrance hall swallowed her whole.
High ceilings arched overhead, carved with careful symmetry. Polished floors reflected the movement of students like shifting mirrors. Portraits of former scholars lined the walls, their painted eyes following her steps as though measuring her worth.
She felt suddenly small.
It's like a different world, she thought.
A world far from the one she had left behind.
Her shoes echoed softly as she walked, the sound unfamiliar and exposed. She clutched her schedule, reading it again even though she had already memorized it.
Room numbers. Subjects. Times.
Order.
That was something she could hold onto.
Yet even as she walked, she felt it—that subtle pull of memory. Every beautiful thing reminded her of him. Every quiet corner felt like a place where he should have been standing.
Her lips curved into the faintest, saddest smile.
You would have liked this, she told him silently.
The classroom was larger than she expected.
Rows of desks stretched across the room, already filled with students speaking in low clusters. The air buzzed with energy—new friendships forming, old ones continuing, laughter bouncing between walls that had heard it all before.
The moment she stepped inside, the noise shifted.
Then stilled.
She felt it before she understood it.
Eyes.
Dozens of them.
All on her.
She froze just inside the doorway, her fingers tightening around her bag strap. Her heart skipped—not from pride, not from vanity, but from discomfort.
They were staring.
Not whispering. Not pointing.
Just staring.
Her face grew warm. She lowered her gaze and walked forward, each step deliberate, careful not to rush, careful not to appear weak.
Ignore it, she told herself. Just sit down.
She found an empty desk near the middle and took her seat quietly, placing her bag beneath it. She folded her hands in her lap, her posture neat, controlled.
The staring continued.
She did not look back.
She had learned long ago that attention could be dangerous.
soft voice broke the silence beside her.
"Hey."
She turned her head slightly.
A girl with light hair and curious eyes smiled at her, resting her chin briefly on her hand.
"My name is Anna," the girl said brightly. "What about you?"
For a moment, the girl hesitated.
Names carried power. They anchored people to the world.
Still, she answered.
She spoke her name softly—just enough for Anna to hear.
Anna's eyes widened.
"Aww," she said, smiling even wider. "That's such a cute name. It suits you. Really."
The girl blinked, surprised.
Before she could respond, Anna leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "And… well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but the whole class is staring at you."
The girl already knew.
"They're staring because you're really beautiful," Anna added, as if stating a simple fact. "Like—really beautiful."
The girl stiffened.
She did not know how to respond to compliments. They felt undeserved. Dangerous.
"I—" she started, then stopped.
Anna laughed softly. "Sorry, sorry. I don't mean to overwhelm you." She paused, then smiled again. "Do you want to be friends?"
The question landed gently.
Friends.
The word felt fragile.
The girl considered it for a brief moment—then nodded.
"…Sure."
Anna grinned as if she had won something.
Recess came like a breath of relief.
The cafeteria was loud and alive, filled with clattering trays and overlapping voices. Sunlight poured in through wide windows, illuminating floating dust particles like tiny stars.
The girl sat across from Anna, listening more than she spoke.
Anna talked easily, her words flowing without effort.
"So," Anna said, taking a sip of her drink, "where are you from? You don't really look European."
The question wasn't cruel—just curious.
"I'm Japanese," the girl replied calmly. "My family moved to Germany during the war."
Anna's expression softened.
"And now?"
"We moved to the United Kingdom," she said. "For my studies."
"Oh," Anna said quietly. "That must have been hard."
The girl nodded once.
Hard—but necessary.
Then it happened.
A shadow fell across their table.
She looked up.
A boy stood there, shifting nervously from foot to foot. His hands trembled slightly. His friends lingered a short distance away, watching with poorly hidden excitement.
He swallowed.
"I—I like you," he said quickly, his voice cracking. "I mean—love. I love you. Please… become my girlfriend."
The cafeteria seemed to go quiet around them.
Anna's eyes widened. She clasped her hands together, barely containing herself.
"Ohhh," she whispered, blushing. "A proposal."
The girl felt nothing.
No surprise.
No excitement.
Only certainty.
She stood slowly, her expression calm, her voice steady.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But I like someone else."
The boy's face fell.
"And," she continued gently, "I made a very special promise with him."
She bowed her head slightly.
"So… I reject your proposal."
There was no cruelty in her tone. No hesitation.
Just truth.
She turned and walked away with Anna, leaving the boy behind in silence.
Anna practically bounced beside her.
"Ohhh," she said excitedly. "You're in love! Who is he? He must be really lucky."
The girl did not answer.
She kept walking.
You don't need to know," she said at last.
Anna laughed. "Come on! Tell me."
"No."
Anna leaned closer. "Please?"
"No means no."
Anna pouted dramatically.
"Cmoooon."
The girl said nothing.
Some promises were not meant to be spoken aloud.
And some names… were too important to share.
Chapter Ends
To be Continued