Their eleventh meeting equalled a simple suggestion.

She sifted through the questionnaires, reading each student’s first and second choice of a career. A smile here and a frown there often adorned her face as she glanced through the thin pieces of paper with different styles of writing.

Suddenly, it hit her. With a determined mission, she went through the thirty pieces of paper again, trying to find a particular person’s choices. It only rang out more bells in her head as she looked through the papers over a third time, almost as if on an important quest.

She had confirmed it three times, and thus she concurred that it was no mistake. Holding the slips of paper in her hand, she tucked them neatly into her clipboard before rushing out of the faculty office, her heels clicking on the hard linoleum floor.

The hallways were deserted with the exception of a student here and there preparing to leave for the day. Each one she passed, she bowed her head slightly, going on her way in hopes of catching up to him. She knew he had to be somewhere in the school. He wasn’t the type to run out the door once the bell rang, but he also wasn’t the type to stand around and do nothing.

She hugged the clipboard closer to her chest, almost obeying the need to run down to the lobby where all the students’ indoor shoes lay. She had a strong feeling he was there. She could imagine him there, putting on his shoes slowly yet efficiently, his long hair draping down his shoulder with such grace and beauty that seemed to be absent in most men.

Her heart beating hard against her chest as she dropped down to the first floor, she slowed down her pace. She could tell she was nearing the front entrance, and with her attention more acute than ever, she heard the familiar voice of a young girl. A student from one of her classes, she presumed.

It was almost inaudible, almost like a stutter that failed in its attempt to be strong and bold. The voice squeaked on, growing higher and higher until she was able to familiarize it with the past memories of confession.

A gentle smile formed on her lips as she relived those days again where she would be so naïve, gaining a boyfriend here but a broken heart there. Love was so cruel…yet so amazing.

“Itachi-kun, I-I-”

Her heart stopped for a mere second before continuing on with its usual run. She felt the warm blood that had once flowed through her veins grow cold, almost with a sickly iciness to it. Her hands pulled the clipboard closer to her bosom as she leaned in to hear but not be seen.

This was called eavesdropping, but as a concerned teacher, she had to do it once in a while, she told herself. Her students deserved privacy, but as their homeroom teacher, she needed to care for them equally, watching over them like a surrogate mother. It was her job. It was her role in life. That was her reasoning.

“I-I-I…y-y-you…w-we,” the young girl in love stumbled with her words that could only come out in incoherent pauses. “U-Um, I-Itachi-kun, I…I have always…always…”

Bam!

Her eyes widened as she scrambled down to the ground to pick up her fallen clipboard where paper lay strewn across the floor. She panicked, crushing the smooth, wrinkle-free slips of paper with her hands as she collected them into a dirty pile.

“Sensei?” the young girl said. The two stood in front of them, glancing down at her with the vaguest sense of curiosity and embarrassment (mainly from the girl).

“Ah, sorry!” she apologized weakly. “Did I interrupt anything?”

The girl flushed a deep shade of red, passing a yearning look over to he who kneeled down on the floor to pick up all of her papers that flew everywhere in the corridor. He did not return the gaze- he probably didn’t notice it.

“Um, no, of course not, Sensei!” The girl shook her head furiously, her short yet sensible cute hair whipping against the sides of her pudgy face with a look that made her appear even more youthful and adorable.

She felt a dull, painful feeling resonate within her chest as she answered, “Ah, is that so? I’m glad then.” It throbbed like poison, growing more painful as she continued to stare up at her student’s face. “But then, why are you two still here? School let out thirty minutes ago.”

The girl’s face flushed even darker, and with that familiar stutter, she watched the girl fumble with the hem of her skirt uncomfortably. She watched the girl writhe underneath her gaze, her mouth opening and closing as if she was trying to spit out her answer as politely and respectfully as possible while trying to maintain some ounce of coherency.

“Here you go, Sensei,” he said, taking away the tension in the air by passing her the papers he collected in his hands.

“Ah, thank you, Itachi-kun,” she replied with a sticky smile that she couldn’t help loathing. She placed the papers back into her clipboard before standing up alongside him. It was then that she realized he was a little bit taller than her. It was slight, and one wouldn’t be able to tell unless they looked closely. But she could tell. She guessed maybe a few millimetres taller.

“Hiromi-san was just about to go home, am I right, Hiromi-san?” he explained to the two women in his presence. “I just met her along the way here. We talked a bit but she said she had to hurry on home for an emergency. Right, Hiromi-san?”

Facing his respectful, passive face, the girl could only nod hesitantly before agreeing wholeheartedly. With a great big apology and bow, she bid farewell, running out of the school without a second glance or a questioning thought.

But the thoughts resided within him and her who stood side-by-side without a spoken word passed to the other. The silence didn’t affect them. Truthfully, it reassured them. The coolness of the corridor sent the recent tension in the air to a world undiscovered. It was comforting that the air was finally clear.

Feeling the brush of his hand knock gently against the back of her hand, she watched him put on his outdoor shoes without a simple regard to her. But she knew him. She knew this was his way. He never ignored anyone. He acknowledged them with his silence.

But she wasn’t like that.

“Hiromi-san likes you,” she stated with a matter-of-factly tone.

He made no response, seemingly more interested in tying his laces than listening to her.

“You know that, don’t you?”

He heaved himself up, tossing his backpack over his back without the usual care in that simple action. He tapped the toe of his shoes once each before glancing back at her, his stoic face expression enough to confirm her deductions.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, Shizune-sensei,” he replied back. But there was no annoyance or irritation in his voice. In fact, it was a bit warmer than usual- maybe a bit of amusement?

“Well, sorry,” she retorted with a girlish charm. “I can’t help it. I’m your teacher. I worry about you like I do with everyone else.” And like that, a pause seeped into her speech, letting out the air of giddiness in her spirit. “…Just like how I feel bad for Hiromi-san. She tried to confess to you but failed.”

He didn’t say anything- rather, he studied her, pondering his next words carefully: “You are sympathetic?”

“Of course I am,” she concurred without a hint of embarrassment. “I feel for everyone.”

His gaze on her did not falter as he took in her words that he deemed were no lie. He stared unblinkingly as she returned the look with a questionable glint in her eye.

“Why…” she asked, searching for the right words to sound reasonable and curious rather than judging and harsh. “Why do you act like that?” (Maybe it did sound a bit harsh.)

“I mean,” she tried to retrace her steps, “why do you isolate yourself like that? You’re a good man, Itachi-kun. I find it somewhat sad that you don’t have a girlfriend yet.” She blushed slightly from the impolite remark. “I’m just saying”- her words grew sloppier and sounded less from a teacher and more from a friend- “Hiromi-san is cute and sweet and would make a perfect girlfriend to anyone, especially you.”

“…Are you telling me this because you are a teacher?” he remarked eyes continued to study her, to observe her, prying through the dark recess of her mind in order to find her deepest secrets that she herself didn’t know.

“Of course,” she answered firmly. “Why else would I be telling you this? I only wish for your happiness, Itachi-kun. I wish for all of my students to be happy.”

He lowered his eyes, hiding the smirk on his lips. Turning his head away from her sight, he shifted the weight of his bag over his shoulders before setting off without one word of farewell.

“Itachi-kun!” She didn’t know what possessed her to call out his name. But she felt the need to- the need to hear it; the need to say it; the need for him to respond to it.

And he did. He paused right at the doorway, casting one last glance over his shoulder at her. “I think,” he began, that same playful smile upon his lips, “you’re lying, Sensei.” And with that comment, he pried his eyes away from hers, walking away from her for the umpteenth time.

-

He was…probably…right.

-

Their twelfth meeting equalled a walk home.

He saw her come out of the restaurant, clad in something that he would’ve never been able to picture her in if it weren’t for tonight: a short white dress that ended right at her thighs, exposing her pale yet slender legs. She wore a large, dark overcoat over her shoulders, her hand clasping a small leather purse. Her hair was tied up into a small yet beautiful bun, exquisite hairpins that glittered in the streetlights sticking out from the black hair.

She stood in front of him, distressed and panting in her high heels. But that smile remained on her pale yet beautifully sculpted face. She was still herself in spite of how glamorous she appeared before him. She was still there in all that glitz.

“Shizune…sensei…” he breathed into a mere mumble.

That smile on her luscious red lips made him think that it was only for him- that she was happy to see him and him only.

“Itachi-kun, good evening,” she greeted warmly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Her voice brought him out of his stupor, his instincts finally kicking in. With a short bow of his head, he greeted in response, “Good evening, Shizune-sensei.”

“This is quite a coincidence, isn’t it?” she remarked softly. Her eyes seemed to glitter in the darkly-lit streets of Shinjuku, highlighting her beauty ever more so in his eyes.

He nodded his head politely, possibly emitting a grunt of some sort in agreement. His eyes twisted away from her flushed face, turning to the plastic bag in his hand that held a few books and computer parts he needed for the night.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she commented admiringly. “Are you alone, Itachi-kun?”

Another grunt, his eyes returning her gaze like he was supposed to do. “I’m heading home right now.” He showed her the bag of supplies, and she nodded in reply.

“Then,” she suggested (almost timidly, he noted), “if you don’t mind, may I accompany you home?” Catching the questioning look on his face, she giggled. That giggle was far different from anything he had ever heard before. She never did it in school, and although it was a great surprise to him, he found himself enjoying the sound that other girls, when they did it, sounded really irritating.

“It’s my job,” she assured him. “It’s not safe for someone of your age to be out this late on the streets.”

A part of him winced to that remark, but he kept the same passive look on his face as he nodded, modestly refusing her offer once and hearing her insist that she should (where he relented to let her have her way). It was the right way of doing things, he was taught.

But was it right to be escorted home by your homeroom teacher, he wondered. He found it quite awkward to be walking side-by-side her- not at school- in a dark neighbourhood where the only lights came from the few streetlights and the occasional brightly lit windows of homes.

Yet…he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. The white dress only made her more innocent and pure. The way her hair was done made him notice the length and the shape of her face. And the way she walked in heels that would be inappropriate at school only brought a weird feeling in his chest.

He couldn’t understand what it was, and why it pained him so. Nothing else hurt him like looking at her. Nothing was more perplexing than this.

“Yes?” she asked, that sweet smile on her glossy red lips. “Is something the matter, Itachi-kun?” She caught his gaze without a second thought or question, and he in turn, glanced away, hearing the thumping of his heart beating against his chest even louder.

“N-Nothing,” he quickly answered, forcing his eyes to look forward into the lit pathway. “Just…” he paused, pondering his next words that he saw she was waiting patiently for, “you look…nice…” The compliment sounded awkward between the two of them, he knew. And although slight, he could feel the blood rushing to his face out of embarrassment.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He wondered if he was ill in some way. He made a note to check once he arrived home.

Suddenly, he heard a slightly muffled giggle. Turning his head to peer at his teacher, he caught her holding back her almost contagious laughter.

“S-Sorry,” she apologized through spats of giggles. “It’s just I never expected you to say such a thing. And judging from your face, I can tell you thought the same.”

He suppressed the need to show his displeasure at such a comment.

“But,” she added, regaining his attention, “thank you. It makes me happy to hear such a thing. I normally don’t like going out in such attire. I feel very uncomfortable- somewhat…revealing, for lack of a better word.”

He studied her for another split second before looking away. He could feel his heart slowing down, returning to its usual pace inside his chest. The heat on his cheeks lessened to a degree that suddenly made the tension in his body disappear without notice. He found it odd though. There was always a tenseness in his body, even at home. But now…there was none. He felt, for the first time, free.

With a simple sigh, he was brought out of his peaceful, blank thoughts back to her. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes where he caught the wistful look on her face as she closed her cell phone with another defeated sigh.

“Is something the matter, Sensei?” he asked. He stopped in his tracks, noticing that she followed suit with a natural instinct that left an impressionable mark onto him.

“She left an angry message on my voicemail,” she answered without thinking. “He must’ve called her once I left,” she mumbled to herself. Pocketing the cell phone, she noticed his eyes studying her with a concerned curiosity, and she merely shook him rid of those thoughts.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “Besides, we shouldn’t be standing around for too long. I’m sure your parents are worried about you staying out so late like this.” She picked up her pace, ushering him to her side, but he refused to comply. And because of that, she stopped a metre away, looking back at him as he was looking up at her.

“Itachi-kun…?”

He didn’t dare tear his eyes away from her. Instead, he waited, just like she had done for him on numerous accounts. He waited for her to explain everything to him. He wasn’t sure if he deserved it or not, but he knew that he deserved to hear it from her. (He just didn’t understand why he deserved to hear it from her.)

“It was just a silly date,” she finally caved in to his silent treatment. “Someone set me up with an acquaintance of hers, and I…left early. That’s it.”

He searched for the truth of her answer in her eyes, and coming to the conclusion that she was indeed being honest, he caught up to her, casting an indecipherable look towards her.

“What?” she countered, keeping up with his pace.

“You should’ve stayed.”

“Excuse me?” She sounded offended, but he knew she was also amused by his remark. “Did I hear you correctly that you said that I should’ve stayed until the end of the date?”

“Please don’t make me repeat myself, Sensei,” he told her.

She suppressed the need to reveal the playful grin nagging away at the end of her lips.

“Sensei, you are a beautiful, considerate, kind-hearted woman- someone with traits such as those are hard to come by nowadays. I find it hard to believe that someone of your nature is not currently engaged in some sort of relationship,” he explained without the slightest tinge of embarrassment coming across his voice and actions. “Someone like you should have someone special.”

That smile crept upon her lips. “…Are you proposing that the person I left in the restaurant was my soul mate?”

“Maybe,” he answered vaguely. “You never know if you don’t give every suitor a chance, Sensei.”

Her smile broadened just a little bit more. “Are you saying that on the basis that you are my student?” she questioned him.

“Of course,” he replied firmly. “For what other reason should I be telling you this? I care for you deeply, Sensei. You are possibly the only teacher who I have truly and deeply respected in my life. I only wish for your happiness.”

She held in a childish laugh. “That’s certainly an interesting thing for you to say.” And with a slight of hand, she pulled out the cell phone sticking out of his back pocket. She showed it to him, noticing the subtle glint of displeasure at her performing such an act underneath his nose.

“This is yours, is it not?” she asked him. She seemed much more energetic and eccentric than usual. Possibly a little bit drunk and woozy, but her footsteps and face revealed no such thing. This spontaneous attitude of hers, he found peculiar yet…strangely riveting. There was just something interesting in watching her do things that she would never do in front of anyone else.

He watched her turn it on, fiddling around with it- possibly looking over all its functions. It really wasn’t anything special, he thought. It was just something his parents imposed on him in order to keep track of him. Just like a doggie tag, but for a human.

His eyes peered around him, suddenly recognizing the familiar sights and landmarks. He was closing in on his house. There was no need for her to go any closer. He didn’t want her to see the lavish world where he was forced to live in. He didn’t want her impression of him to change.

“Sensei,” he said to her, the tone telling her to stop in her tracks. “This is far enough. My home is barely a block away. I will be fine the rest of the way.”

“Oh, but I can-”

“Sensei,” he assured her firmly, “I appreciate your kindness in escorting me, but this is fine. I do not wish to keep you from bed any longer. Tomorrow is a school day, after all. I do not wish to impose any more trouble upon you.”

He watched her spirits dwindle slightly before she nodded her head. “All right, if you insist.” With a quick manoeuvre, she did something in his cell phone before returning it back to him promptly. She bowed slightly while he returned the same grateful gesture.

“I’ll see you at school then, Itachi-kun.” She turned to walk away, his eyes watching her carefully as she faded into a small line in the distance. Finally, determining that it was safe enough to tread back home, he felt the irritating sensation of the vibration function on his cell phone. He had mail, he noted.

Sighing, he pushed himself onwards as he checked the mail on his phone. The sender was written as “unknown.” Wondering if he should delete it or not, he decided to open it. Curiosity got the best of him.

You know what, Ita-kun? I think you’re lying.

And with a smile that couldn’t be suppressed, he read the last characters in the message: Shizu-chan.

-

She was…probably…right.

-

Their thirteenth meeting came with flowers.

There was something odd about it. Something curious yet peculiar about having flowers in their apartment. Of course, what with the warm, spirit-lifting colours of their furniture and walls, flowers were to be expected, but they never had flowers in their lavish apartment before. It was something she should do, she told herself many times. But she was always so busy that whenever she came home, all she would do was knock herself to sleep with the useless noise of late night talk shows (on the weekend, it was booze).

Now, she couldn’t just ignore the flowers sitting on her dining room table. Although they did fit (they being daffodils), it just looked too…weird.

“Shizune,” the woman called out, casting her bag on one of the chairs before barging into her kohai’s room where she lay half-asleep, sick to a degree that going in any further into her room meant death to the woman.

“Hmm?” she replied in a moan. Her eyes fluttered open as she peered up at her senpai. “Welcome home, Tsunade-sensei,” she greeted with a horrible cough.

“Ugh…” the woman suppressed her need to gag. Her kohai never looked more miserable and sickly until now where she lay in bed, almost on the verge of death because of a simple flu.

“Shizune,” the woman tried again, ignoring the paleness of her kohai’s face and skin, “where did the flowers on the table come from? It wasn’t here this morning.”

She tried her best to shrug, but failed. Instead, she mumbled about a delivery or something to that extent until the woman finally gave up and left her to her peaceful rest. It was only then, until she heard the click of the door close shut that she pulled out a small note underneath her pillow.

A weak smile gracing her dry lips, she read the card for the umpteenth time. There was no special meaning to it. There wasn’t even a message on the card. However, just looking at the writing made her heart beat faster.

With her fingers wrapping themselves over the small card, she let her eyelids droop down into a graceful flutter, a content smile on her face.

“To Shizu-chan.”

-

He was the only one who could get away with something like this.

-

Their fourteenth meeting came with soup.

“You’re never sick,” the boy told his older brother as he chased the fever-ridden young man around their very large home. It was never quite lonely in that household, even with the multiple rooms that served no purpose except for storage. There was always the occasional maid around, eavesdropping whenever possible. It always made him feel uncomfortable, forcing his instincts to be on guard 24/7.

“You’re supposed to be at school,” he countered to his young (pestering) brother.

“Don’t have any,” the boy replied with the preteen attitude he grew aggravated with. “It’s a non-instructional day.”

He sighed. The day just had to get worse. First, he woke up only to find out he had a throbbing headache in the base of his skull (one night of sleep resulted in a high fever, believe it or not), then he remembered that his parents would be out for most of the day. Now, to make matters worse, with that headache, he had to deal with his brother who was entering the stages of preteen life where sarcasm was something that was tainting his speech.

“Don’t you have homework then?” he asked, forcing his body past the threshold of the home and into the kitchen. He was growing hungrier with each passing second, and he wondered if it was getting any closer at all. It seemed so far now.

“Already finished it. It was so easy I felt like I was wasting time,” the boy mumbled.

“Oh really, baby brother,” he replied with an almost exhausted voice. He intentionally placed his hand of the boy’s head, ruffling his hair with the hint of patronization.

The two entered the sleek kitchen with its state of the art appliances which only served to make the house seem colder than it should been. The stovetops and refrigerators were nice to look at for about five minutes then they became an eyesore. They were so shiny and silver that it felt like looking up at the fluorescent lights at school.

“Jeez, stop treating me like a kid, Nii-san!” the boy rebuked, scrambling to sit down next to his older brother. He fixed his hair with a frown, glaring with all his might at the young man who would never view him more than as his “baby brother.”

“I’m already eleven, Nii-san. Why can’t you treat me with a bit more respect?” the boy bemoaned.

He merely smiled at his younger brother, offering no response, which only spurred on the junior’s anger.

“Itachi-sama.”

The two looked away from each other in response, directing all their attention at the maid who stood a little too close to them. In her hands, she carried- what looked like- a plastic, cylinder container. It wasn’t see-through, and the way it was wrapped, it appeared very well insulated.

“This came for you, Itachi-sama,” the maid explained, placing the container on the table in front of them. She passed him a small note, still sealed and unread. “This came with it.”

He took the note graciously, his little brother eyeing the container with a curious look. That look only meant one thing: he was going to open the container no matter what. There was no use in stopping him.

“We have no idea who the sender is,” the maid further explained with a worried voice, “Or what’s inside, really. Should we throw it out, Itachi-sama?”

He unfolded the glossy note duly, reading whatever was written on its page. There was no message on it, only a few characters that clearly told him that the gift was for him.

“Ah,” the boy exclaimed, “It’s tomato soup.” The boy stuck his finger in, licking whatever residue remained on his finger. “Wow, it’s even better than Chef’s tomato soup! Hey, Nii-san, can we eat this now?”

“Oh, but Sasuke-sama-!”

“You heard him,” he told the maid promptly. “Please bring bowls and utensils. We’ll eat our lunch now.” The look he gave her told her not to question his decision.

“Of course, Itachi-sama.” She bowed and thus scurried off to carry out his will.

“There’s so much in here,” his little brother pointed out. “Hey, do you think we can eat it for dinner too?”

“If there’re leftovers,” he told him. And with a swift hand, he pocketed the note into his breast pocket, indulging in the company of his little brother for once.

“To Ita-kun.”

-

She was the only one who could get away with something like this.

-

Their fifteenth meeting revolved around his future choices.

“Toudai…?” she reiterated slowly.

He nodded duly. “Entrance exams for university are coming up, Sensei,” he explained as he looked over his pre-tests for the entrance exams. It was another after-school special- no one else existed within two metres of their little world. The silence was hushed by their voices and their voices only. Barriers were broken, and left broken. Speech became fluent and crass without their usual formality.

A bond was formed in these last two and ongoing years.

“Wow…” she piped in her exclamation. “Toudai, huh… That’s such a prestigious school. Everyone in the country tries out for Toudai.”

He nodded, flipping over his mock test page to check the answers once more. He had yet to use his red marker, already uncapped for the process. “My parents came from Toudai,” he explained out of the blue. Before, she would be surprised by this little outburst, but now, it was a welcome addition to their many moments together. It was his way of telling her more about himself.

“And my grandparents before that,” he continued with a subtle stiffness.

She knew where this was going. “And they expect you to attend the same school?” she asked for confirmation in her deductions.

He didn’t answer as he pulled out another piece of paper filled to the brim with English and Japanese writing, and math and science equations. That was his way of confirming it.

“I see…” she replied softly.

“It’s tradition,” he remarked, “everyone in my family is expected to attend Toudai and make the family proud…especially the heir.”

“You sound frustrated,” she pointed out. Any normal person wouldn’t have been able to detect the shift in tone, but she was able to. She attributed it to the many times they just “hung out” like this.

With a soft click of him recapping his pen, he turned to look at her. He knew not to ask her why she said such a thing. She was always right in her observations of him, and there was no point in questioning those observations.

“Why?” she questioned seriously. She truly wished to know the answer. “Are you worried that you cannot pass Toudai’s entrance exams? Or is it something else?” She was placing all her money on the latter, and judging from the way he turned away from her, she knew she was right.

He collected his papers into a hefty pile before passing it to her. She graciously received them, glancing through it like his eyes told her to do so. Not one mark of red touched the white sheet. It was completely perfect, empty of wrongs and only filled with rights.

“I’m not worried about the exam,” he told her firmly. She could see that seeing as he had just aced last year’s entrance exam for Toudai (the mock test he has just done several minutes ago).

“It is the least of my worries.”

She set the papers down, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I…do not share the same view as my parents,” he worded intricately. “Toudai is neither my dream nor is it my goal. It is merely something my parents and their parents have instilled in me.”

“So…” she summed up, “you- as someone of your family- feel compelled to enter Toudai as to not disappoint the expectations placed on your shoulders, but you- as a person- do not wish to attend Toudai.” She sighed expectedly. “I understand why you feel like you need to enter Toudai, but why do you not wish to? Isn’t it a great school?”

“…It is,” he agreed slowly. “I admit it: Toudai is a very good school; however, I do not wish to be another member of this island. I’ve watched my father for many years for I will have to one day take over his job. And from those years, I have determined that my family is very strong and well-known throughout Japan, but in other countries, we are nothing more than a speck on the stroke of a character. I do not wish to limit my abilities to only Japan, Sensei.”

She studied him carefully, assessing the words he had just spoken with the strictest attention. “Then,” she replied softly and supportively, “don’t.”

He returned her gaze, almost surprised by the words she had just said.

“You don’t have to be confined to Japan if you do not wish to be,” she told him. Her folded hands on her lap tightened instinctively as she resisted the urge to scrunch up her face in response. “It is true that tradition is important to a family, but if it risks your happiness, then…then just screw tradition! Do what you want. It’s your life. If you want to study abroad, go. If you want to explore the world, do it. Don’t let…anyone stop you.”

He watched her carefully, judging the authenticity of her smile, her words, and her body language. She did not blink, she did not falter; she gazed right back at him, still as supportive as ever.

“Thank you, Sensei,” he replied, inclining his head slightly before returning her smile with his own.

-

She wanted to say, “Don’t let me stop you” but could not. She loved him too much to say so.

-

Their sixteenth (and last) meeting revolved around graduation.

The blossoms of spring cascaded down in small flutters, sprinkling the newly graduated class with decorations in their black hair. The sound of the principal’s voice carried out in the warm, sunny air as the graduates, adorned in their prestigious school uniforms, stood in that light, letting their pride grow bit by bit as the day continued on.

He heard excited whispers and mutters arise as the principal bid them luck on the rest of their journey before stepping away from the microphone. With a joyous cheer, the graduates bowed low to show their gratitude to their school before scattering away to find their friends and family.

He merely stood in that crowd, his hand gazing down at the smooth navy casing for the diploma he had received a few minutes ago. In a daze, he glanced up at the everlasting azure sky. Never before had the sky seemed more within his reach than that moment. The shackles were finally gone.

He was free.

“Itachi-kun.”

Her voice, its resonance stirring something within his body, forced him to look away from the reachable sky. The shackles returned in spite of his fondness for her. And he could feel it restrict him once more.

“Sensei…”

That same smile appeared on her lips and with a beautiful, reserved pose, she said, “Congratulations.”

Those words pounded in his chest, thumping alongside his heart. Painful as it was, he kept that passive look on his face. His hand instinctively wrapped themselves around his diploma a bit tighter before he nodded his head appreciatively.

“Thank you, Sensei,” he replied, bowing lower to her than he had to anyone else that was not related to him by blood. A bitter frown struggled to reform itself on his face, growing harder to suppress with each passing second. Ill feelings towards her and himself surfaced, and those emotions became harder to hold back. But he persevered, and with that same expressionless face, he returned her thoughtful gaze.

“I guess this is the end…” she said.

He nodded reluctantly. “…Yes. The end.”

The noise around them grew to a degree of uneasiness as she fidgeted in her stance while he glanced away from her truthful, compassionate eyes. Where everyone else was ecstatic with glee from just graduating, they stood awkwardly towards one another, unable to say anything else. The fluency that once existed between them disappeared.

“Nii-san!”

He turned to the voice, the two of them catching the sight of his family. She saw his mother and little brother waving at him, ushering him to come so they could finally celebrate his achievement. She noticed his father, standing stern in his stance yet a prideful look was adorned on his worn face. And she watched with a pained yet happy face at the rest of his family who waved for him to join them.

“You should go,” she told him with that same teacher tone she used in her classes. “They’re waiting for you.”

He returned her gaze, his eyes searching for true confirmation in her suggestion before nodding his head. “Goodbye, Sensei.”

“Goodbye, Itachi-kun.” With formal smiles, they walked away.

He turned to return to his family.

She turned to return to her colleagues.

The world in which they only existed had shattered.

-

He wanted to say, “There is no end” but could not. He loved her too much to say so.

-

‘Cause I know that where I belong is with you,
And my heart will flourish on moments that I’ m...
With you.

-melody., “Our Journey”

XXX

きみのいる世界(The World in Which You Exist)- Fin

XXX

Story Note:

Toudai is respectfully Tokyo University. It is like Japan’s Yale or Harvard.

Author’s Note:

I’d just like to say thank you to everyone who took the time to read this peculiar story, as well as the ones who provided their thoughts on it as well. I know this isn’t a popular pairing like Sasuke and Sakura or Naruto and Hinata, but I’m very fond of it, and I hope this story, in some way, made you think of this pairing in a better light.

But, for those who thought this ending just wasn’t satisfying, there is a sequel in the works. Currently, I and Sirvy-Cat (my beta) are working on a heavily romantic-angst story called “大袈裟に「愛してる」” (Let Me Brag and Say “I Love You”). That story will be up as soon as we can manage (since it is a joint production) so keep an eye out of it! The main, overriding pairing for that story, however, will be Hinata x Naruto x Hanabi (along with Sasuke x Sakura and Shikamaru x Ino, but make no mistake, it is indeed the continuation of Itachi and Shizune’s relationship). So see you there if you choose to read it! Thank you very much for all of your support.