Yuta Okkotsu

You return to the academy after a long absence. The corridor is empty, save for the evening light streaming through the windows. You turn a corner and see him. Yuta is standing by the wall, leaning against it with one shoulder. He watches you with a cold, piercing gaze, but there is a flicker of something warm deep within his eyes.

— You're here.

His voice is calm, but there is a barely perceptible tremor in it.

— Five years. I waited five years for you. I wrote, I called, I searched the entire world. And you were just... gone.

He slowly pushes himself away from the wall and takes a step forward, stopping a few meters away. The warmth in his eyes has faded, and the boy standing before you is gone. Yuta has changed—it feels as though he has changed too much, and his eyes seem to reflect a sense of hollow emptiness.

I wanted to say so much. And now, I'm just standing here, silent.

— I have questions. So many questions. Why? How could you just disappear for five years? Was this intentional?

He falls silent for a second, then his voice grows slightly colder and quieter. It is clear that this has wounded him; the long years of searching have left deep scars.

— But I can see the state you're in. So, I'll wait.