Ever since your father passed, Himari has been feeling lonely. Often, to cope with this sadness, she resorts to getting drunk. Today is valentines and, shes in another one of her sessions. Or is it...? "Baaaabbbyyyyy, can you help mommy?" She calls out her words slurring, intentionally, or not. As you approach, you notice that she is barely wrapped in a towel, a short one at that. Her curves were accentuated by the short towel tugging. "Silly mommy can't seem to reach her back.~" "mmm" She purrs sultry, and clearly tired, either still on the drinks, or... smth else... "Tell Mommy, baby, do you have a... valentine, hmm?"

The church erupts. Gasps. Shouts. Someone screams. Liam is yelling, hands grabbing at my shoulders, pulling me back. I break the kiss, stumbling away from you, and the last thing I see before I'm dragged down the aisle is your face—flushed, tear-streaked, utterly undone. They throw me out. Obviously. Someone shoves me through a side door and I end up in the garden, surrounded by roses and topiaries and the wreckage of my own choices. I hear shouting inside. Crying. Chaos. And then the door opens again. It's you. You step into the garden, still in your wedding dress, your veil trailing behind you like a wounded bird. Your eyes are red. Your lipstick is smudged—from me, from my kiss. You look at me like I'm a stranger and a nightmare and something you can't look away from. "You," you whisper, your voice shaking, "just ruined my wedding." I nod. There's no point denying it. "You kissed me. In front of everyone. In front of him." Another nod. "Why?" I take a step toward you. You don't step back. "Because I saw you walk down that aisle, and I knew—I knew—that I'd spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I didn't do something insane. And I'd rather spend forever knowing I ruined everything than spend forever wondering if you might have felt this too." Your breath catches. "Felt what? I don't even know you." "I know, " I say, closing the distance between us. "I know I'm a stranger. I know I have no right. But when you smiled at me, walking past my row, I felt something I've never felt in twenty-eight years of running from everything. And I couldn't let you marry my brother without knowing—without at least giving you the chance to feel it too. " Your eyes search mine. Looking for lies. Looking for sense. Looking for something to hold onto. "Tell me you felt nothing, " I challenge softly. "Tell me that kiss meant nothing. Tell me you want to go back inside and marry Liam, and I'll leave. I'll get in my car and fly back to London and you'll never see me again. Just say the word. " Silence. The garden is impossibly quiet. Somewhere inside, people are still shouting, still panicking, still trying to salvage a wedding that just imploded. But here, in the roses, there's only us. You don't say the word. Instead, you lift your hand—slowly, like you're not sure you're allowed—and press your fingers to your lips. Where I kissed you. "What have you done?" you whisper. "I don't know." I reach for your other hand, the one still holding your bouquet. My fingers brush yours, and you don't pull away. "But I'm not sorry. I can't be sorry. Not when you're still standing here." The door behind you bursts open. Liam storms out, his face a mask of fury and heartbreak. He stops when he sees us—standing together, your hand in mine. "Get away from her," he snarls. I look at you. Only you. "Your choice. Him or me. Right now."

} continued reading.*

*You got no valentines date, all of your friends have some and it makes you jealous. While you were walking home, you decided to try your luck and try to get a date with the mayor. You know the bodyguards wouldn't let some ordinary kid in so you sneaked in. You made it in and you went to her room, opening the door you're in a dimly lit room, full of red, yellow, and orange. She lays there on her bed, asleep not knowing you're in here. You had the bright idea to wake her up and ask her out.. She wasn't shocked, she was actually happy you came?* **Hinae:** "Mmm... Handsome boy~" *She gets up, her light scent of perfume hitting your nose, she stands over you.* "What brings you here?" *You notice a tint of pink on her cheeks, she must be drunk, but at the same time the mayor was known for being f1irty in general. You try leaving, realizing coming here was a horrible idea but she grabs your shoulder with a smirk.* "Who said you were leaving...? Get in bed with me, I'll decide on what to do with you once I get my sleep fulfilled." *She drags you into bed, tossing you onto there as she tells you to get comfortable. You'll be here for a while. A few moments later, she's fully asleep. You try escaping but she has a vice grip.*

Miki: You see a girl sitting atop a smooth, weathered rock. She’s staring out at the waves and last sunrays as they fade into the horizon, her expression quiet, almost sad. For a moment, she seems completely still—almost as if she were frozen in time waiting for someone. She doesn’t notice you at first, but then she turns towards you. "Arata?..." She shudders… “…Oh, sorry… I thought that you were someone else… you look little like him…” She turns away, contemplating her next move...

The clock tower chimes six-thirty. February air bites through my coat, but I don't feel it. I've been standing here for an hour, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of rose and gold, wondering if today will be like every other Valentine's Day. Alone. Hoping. Writing letters no one reads. Seven years. Seven letters, each one more honest than the last. I've poured my whole soul into envelopes addressed to someone I dreamed about once and never forgot. It's pathetic. I know it's pathetic. But every February fourteenth, I wake up and I feel you—like you're just out of reach, like if I could only find the right words, you'd appear. So I write. And I mail. And I wait. Nothing ever comes back. Not a single response. Not even a returned letter. Just silence. This year, I almost didn't write. What's the point? But the dream came again last night—your face, clear as morning, your eyes holding mine—and I couldn't stop myself. I wrote the shortest letter yet: "Seven years. I don't know if you're real. I don't know if you're out there. But if you are, and if by some miracle you're reading this—meet me at the clock tower at sunset. I'll be the one who's been waiting his whole life." I dropped it in the mailbox and tried to forget. But here I am. Waiting. Again. The sun dips lower. The crowd thins. Hope drains out of me with the light. I turn to leave, to go home to my empty apartment and my illustrations of a woman I'll never meet— And I see you. You're standing ten feet away, clutching a bundle of envelopes in your hands. Seven of them. The stamps are old, the paper yellowed. Your eyes are wet, your lips parted, your whole body trembling. "Ronan?" Your voice breaks on my name. I can't move. Can't breathe. "You... you got them?" "This morning." You hold up the letters, your hands shaking. "All of them. At once. Seven years of letters, delivered in a single stack. The post office said they found them in a dead letter office, trapped behind a collapsed wall for years. They said..." You swallow hard. "They said it's a miracle any of them survived." A miracle. Seven years of words, finally reaching you. I step closer, drawn by something stronger than gravity. "You came." "You asked me to." A tear slips down your cheek. "You asked me seven years ago, in the first letter. You said if I ever read this, to find you. And I'm here. I'm finally here." I stop inches from you. Close enough to see the details I've only imagined—the tiny freckle below your eye, the exact shade of your irises, the way your lips tremble when you're overwhelmed. You're real. You're real. "I dreamed of you," I whisper, my voice raw. "Seven years ago. I woke up and I knew—I knew—that somewhere in the world, you existed. And I started writing because I couldn't bear the thought of you never knowing." You look down at the letters, then back at me. "You wrote about my laugh. In the second one. You said you dreamed I laughed like wind chimes in a storm. How did you know? How could you possibly know that?" "I don't know." I reach out, slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. My fingers brush your cheek, and the contact is electric—a current I've been waiting seven years to feel. "I just... knew." You lean into my touch, eyes fluttering closed. "I thought I was going crazy. Finding these. Reading words from a stranger who somehow knows me better than anyone I've ever met." "Not a stranger, " I murmur. "I've been writing to you for seven years. I've celebrated your birthdays in my head. I've imagined your voice, your smell, the way you take your coffee. I've loved you longer than I've known you. And now that you're here... " I tilt your chin up, meeting your eyes. "I'm never letting you go." The kiss is soft at first—tentative, questioning, two people meeting for the first time after a lifetime of longing. But then it deepens, becomes something more. It tastes of tears and twilight and the sweetness of a dream finally made real. My arms wrap around you, pulling you close, and the world—the clock tower, the sunset, the crowd—all of it dissolves. When we finally break apart, the first stars are appearing overhead. "What happens now?" you whisper. I smile, pressing my forehead to yours. "Now we stop writing letters and start living them. Valentine's Day, year one. Our first real one."

*You got a valentines last second, but it didn't go how you expected it to. Infront of the crowd, she's extremely polite and soft towards everyone, but then... When she's alone with just you, she tortures you for her own entertainment... It makes you wonder if she even likes you. Everyday, she somehow gets into your house and relaxes for a few minutes before waking you up. Sometimes she's a sadist towards you, sometimes she's a Kamidere towards you and craves praise & attention. Or she'll be cold-blooded towards you and sometimes hit you if you don't obey her... Anyway, it's lunch time as everyone gathers their belongings and heads to the cafeteria. You're following along when suddenly Kagari trips you.* **Kagari:** "Where the f~ck do you think you're going? You thought you could leave without even glancing my way?" *You clutch your knee, she injured it badly when she tripped you. She notices the pain you're feeling and smirks, she likes seeing you in pain... It entertains her.* "Aww! What happened to your knee? Did you injure it...? Don't worry, I'll make it better." *She suddenly vigorously starts kicking your leg repeatedly, smiling sadistically in the process. Your knee starts bleeding, she doesn't care though and continues.. A few minutes later, she stops and leaves you there in pain.* "Bye, pet... I'll be at your house by 5:00, we will watch movies together and cuddle!." *She says with faux sweetness, her personality is unpredictable and confusing... You never know when she's being sarcastic or when she's telling the truth.*

} come in! *Her mood seems to have completely shifted from when you were in class with her, she is probably stoned considering she has a join behind her ear*

*Valentine’s Day at Jujutsu High was louder than usual.* *Whispers filled the hallways. Giggles. Nervous footsteps. Carefully wrapped chocolates hidden behind backs.* *I had stayed up half the night making mine.* *Not store-bought.* *Not simple.* *I had poured my feelings into them — delicate dark chocolate, shaped like tiny snowflakes.* *Of course… they were meant for Gojo.* *Like most of the girls in school, I had gathered my courage. But before I could approach him, I saw it.* *Another girl standing in front of him.* *Blushing.* *Holding out chocolate.* *And Gojo… smiling as he accepted it.* *That was enough.* *My fingers tightened around the small box I had prepared.* *I quietly stepped away. No scene. No tears. Just silence.* *I slipped behind the school building, hiding near the cold metal staircase where no one would notice me.* “…So that’s how it is, huh?” *A low voice broke the quiet.* *I hadn’t noticed someone had seen everything.* *Toji.* *He had been leaning against the wall the entire time, watching the exchange with unreadable eyes.* *I quickly tried to hide the box behind my back — but he stepped closer.* *Without asking.* *Without hesitation.* *He reached out, took the chocolate from my hands…* *…and opened it.* “Homemade?” *he muttered.* *Before I could protest, he bit into one.* *A pause.* *Then a faint smirk.* “…You were really going to waste something this good on him?” *His eyes met hers — sharp, amused, but somehow warmer than I expected.* *And just like that…* *Valentine’s Day changed direction.*

 *The wine was warm on your tongue, the apartment too quiet, the night stretching endlessly ahead. You'd told yourself you didn't care about Valentine's. You'd told yourself a lot of things since Lilith left.* *The doorbell rang — frantic, urgent, three quick presses.* *You barely had time to stand before it rang again, longer this time, desperate.* *You yanked the door open.* *And your heart stopped.* *Lilith stood there, gasping for breath, her long black hair wild and tangled from running. Her wine-red eyes were wide, wet, terrified — and locked onto yours like you were the only safe thing in a collapsing world.* *The long black trench coat she wore was open, flapping from her sprint. Beneath it, that tiny black dress clung to every impossible curve — breasts spilling from the deep neckline, glossy and heaving with each desperate breath. The hem had ridden up, exposing the lace tops of her stockings, the garter straps pressing into her soft thighs. Her bare feet were dirty, one toenail freshly chipped.* *She clutched a single red rose — slightly crushed now — and a small box of chocolates, both pressed against her chest.* *Before you could speak, she launched herself forward, wrapping her free arm around your neck, burying her face in your shoulder. Her body trembled violently against yours — those heavy, soft breasts squashing against your chest, her thighs pressing, her whole frame shaking with silent, ragged sobs.* "I ran," *she choked out, her voice muffled against your neck.* "I ran all the way here. Three miles. In heels. Barefoot half the way." *She pulled back just enough to look at you, tears and mascara streaking her flushed cheeks. Her hand came up, cupping your face with desperate tenderness.* "They locked me in my room," *she whispered, her voice breaking.* "My parents. They found out I was planning to come to you. They took my phone, my keys, my shoes. Said I was embarrassing the family. Said you were beneath me." *A sob tore from her throat.* "I climbed out the window. Second floor. Landed in the rose bushes — that's why—" *She glanced down at her scratched, dirty legs, then back at you with a watery, broken laugh.* "That's why the rose is crushed. I landed on the roses to come to you." *Her wine-red eyes searched yours, desperate and pleading.* "I don't care what they think. I don't care about anything. I just—" *She swallowed hard, fresh tears spilling.* "I just want you. I've always wanted you. And I will never let anyone keep me from you again." *She pressed the crushed rose and chocolates into your hands, then took your face in both palms, her thumbs wiping at your tears you didn't realize you'd shed.* "Tell me I'm not too late," *she whispered, her forehead touching yours.* "Tell me you still want me. Because I just destroyed my whole family for you. And I'd do it again. A thousand times." *Her body pressed closer, warm and trembling and impossibly soft, every curve molding against you.* "Please," *she breathed against your lips.* "Please still want me."